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#i gave up on trying to understand him like 2 months ago
hotgirlmuseboardxo · 8 months
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men who love you but aren’t brave enough to do anything about it <<<<<<<<<<
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pynkfairyheart · 23 days
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Pairings: connie x black reader
Warnings: smut 18+ Connie's a lil toxic, mentions of a gun, pretty angsty
pt.2 to birthday girl but can be read as a standalone
Miss you
Constance Springer. The man who was once the source of your happiness though recently the source of your frustration and headaches.
“I just don't get it, Con. You take me on these amazing dates, buy me anything that catches my attention, and say you wanna spend the rest of your life with me, yet when I ask to publicly announce we’re together, which I shouldn't have to, you always brush it aside.” You spoke as calmly as possible. Though considering this was the 4th time this week you were having this conversation your calm tone resembled shouting.
It had been five months since your birthday. Five months since Connie gave you the best gift you could ever think of. Himself.
The first four months felt as if you were on cloud nine. The entire duration it was as if you were conjoined at the hip. Connie had to make a couple of drops? There you were in his passenger seat watching a movie or using his card to pay for the large quantity of your cart.
You needed to go make up a missed exam? Connie was waiting in his car with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The only time you weren't seen together was if he was doing something he didn't want you involved in or if he was out buying you secret lavish gifts such as the car he got you a week after your birthday. Life was great.
It wasn't til you were at your nail appointment with Mika where she nearly cut you with her clippers from shock the moment you brought up your relationship with Connie, that you realized no one knew about it.
At first, you were confused. How could no one know? You were always together but the more you thought about it you started to understand. Whenever you were out he wasn't as affectionate as when it was just the two of you, just a few touches that could easily be considered friendly, but you just brushed it off as him not being comfortable with PDA.
Even when you went on dates he'd buy the entire venue or restaurant out so it'd be just you two or would plan the nicest dates at the house, either way, no one saw you on dates as a couple.
You thought about it for a while before it finally ate you up and you just had to ask. His response was the reason shit went left.
“Whatchu mean let people know we’re together? Ion want people in our business. I'm yours and you're mine, that's all that matters” He brushed it off with a kiss on your forehead before running to go get some eggs around the corner. He was only gone for ten minutes yet in that time frame you went through hundreds of different reasons as to why he responded that way.
At first, you were confused. Then, you were trying to reassure yourself he's right as long as we know then we straight. But immediately after that thought came anger why the fuck doesn't he want people to know? Am I the fuckin side chick?
By the time Connie came back you were fuming. You trusted Connie, the night he asked you to be his he promised you he'd never do anything to hurt you yet you couldn't deny how suspicious this was. He barely had time to lock the door behind him before you started with your questions.
“You cheating on me Constance?”
“What?” He almost gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned, looking at you as if you had said the stupidest shit ever which in his mind you did.
“You heard me. Are you cheating?” You followed him into the kitchen of his apartment.
“No [☆] I'm not cheating. I needa take you to the ER? Cause it sounds like you hit your head while I was gone”
“Then why don't you wanna tell anyone?”
“About us?”
“Duh”
“I already told you, mami, I don't want people all up in our business”
That was two weeks ago and you guys were nowhere near in a better place. By no means were you insecure. You knew Connie loved you and only you but you wanted others to know as well. It's not like you wanted to leak one of your many sex tapes on IG. You just wanted at least your friend group to know you were together. Connie wasn't having it though.
“Mama lower your tone” He groaned. Inked hands rubbing his face from frustration.
“Just tell me, Con. Why don't you want anyone to know?”
“Is it wrong to wanna keep our relationship private? I love you princess but you buggin’ for real. Drop it”
“You know what. Fuck this, nd fuck you too. There's a big fucking difference between private and secret.” You slammed his bedroom door. This was too much. You couldn't take it anymore; it was as if he was ashamed of you. You loved Connie, you really, really loved him but this hurt, the constant drop of your heart whenever he let go of your hand the moment you stepped out of his apartment complex or whenever a girl flirted with him in front of the group but there was nothing you could do. You were done. No amount of love could make you settle for anything less than you knew you deserved.
Despite your teary eyes you managed to pull yourself together. Grabbing your bag, you packed as much as possible before finally exiting the room.
Connie was in the middle of rolling a blunt when he saw you walk out, he would have been convinced that his heart was lying on the couch when he stood up if it wasn't for the loud thumping in his ears.
“Where are you going?” He stood in your way
“Connie please move” You sniffled
“No, not until you tell me where you're going. Please [☆] lo siento, mami, por favor, no te vayas please don't go” His voice cracked as reality hit him. Dropping to his knees, his hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips.
“I promise to be better, I promise. I will call everyone on my phone and tell them about us right now, please don't go” At this point, you had to look away. His tear-stricken face and Spanish almost had you fold.
“We'll work this out ma, estaré mejor, lo prometo I'll be better, I promise”
“No, we can't Connie. Not right now” And with that, you left.
A month had passed so far. It was rough in the beginning. He blew your phone up 24/7 to the point where you had to block him. You couldn't eat, and whenever you did have the energy to stay awake you did nothing but scroll on your phone, your thumb always finding the photo album where you stored all pictures of Connie.
Sasha and Mikasa finally had enough, while Mika was the only one you told Sasha had a pretty good idea after she went to visit Connie only to find him in the same state as you, maybe even worse. Deciding you needed to leave the walls of your apartment and have fun, they finally convinced you to go out. Taking a couple of pregame shots while shaking ass in the mirror, your outfit leaving nothing to the imagination as you finally felt ready to face reality.
By the time you had arrived at the party, the drinks started to kick in and you grabbed the first sexy guy you saw and dragged him to the dance floor.
Unknown to you Connie was also at the party, standing in the corner as he made a few deals. He looked tired, and he was. The moment the door closed behind you he broke down. Ignoring all of the calls and texts he got from clients as he sat there. He was angry. Angry at you for leaving him but mostly angry at himself for fucking up.
When Connie finally caught sight of you it was as if someone had finally flipped the switch on throughout his body. His heart sped up, his posture straightened and his dick twitched at the sight of your body in the dress.
His dick wasn't the only thing twitching. When it finally registered to Connie that you were letting some random guy touch you as you whined on him, his eye twitched and his hand immediately went to his gun.
He was furious. With zero fucks he approached you, the barrel of his gun pressed against the guy who you were currently throwing it back on.
When you no longer felt the swaying of the man behind you, you turned to be met with the fear-frozen stranger and Connie whispering something in his ear. You didn't have time to ask what was going on before the guy scurried off and Connie roughly grabbed your arm, dragging you out of the house party.
Despite the fact you were no longer together and he had no right to drag you away, you stayed quiet. Connie rarely got angry but when he did you knew it was best to just stay quiet.
“Get in the fucking car [☆]” He threw open the door. You were convinced the thong you had on was completely drenched after those six words. His voice was low and threatening and you almost felt disgusting from how turned on you were. Almost. With one look into his rage-filled eyes, you got in the car, the door slamming behind you when he was sure you were safely in.
He quickly got in, tire tracks marking the ground as he sped off. It was silent for a minute before you decided to speak, once his grip on the steering wheel loosened and the color returned to his knuckles.
“Connie?” You faced him, eyes burning into the side of his head as he kept his dark stare on the road.
“Connie, come on. You can't just kidnap me and then not speak. Pull over and talk to me now” You huffed.
With a roll of his eyes, he pulled into a deserted parking lot.
“Hello? Either you get to talking or I'm getting out nd calling an Uber”
“No the fuck you're not” He groaned loudly, eyes meeting yours.
“Then talk” You borderline yelled
If Connie's hair was long enough to grip he'd have a couple bald spots from how frustrated he was. He gave you both time to cool down before he spoke.
“Look I'm sorry for dragging you away, and for threatening your lil boyfriend-”
“He's not my boyfriend”
“He's not?”
“No. Continue your apology” You rolled your eyes.
Your response had a smirk forming on his face. He missed you so much, even your attitude.
“I missed you ma. I'm sorry for dragging you away. I'm also sorry for how things ended.” He grabbed your hand.
“I now understand your feelings and your concerns and I'm sorry I ever made you feel like I was ashamed of you or if there was another woman. You're the love of my life ma, this past month has been pure hell. I need you baby. Please take me back.” His hands were shaking as they held yours securely. It was rare to see Connie cry, and the sight of his tear-streaked face made your heart ache. He really did love you.
Swallowing the lump in your throat you asked the one question that started it all.
“Be real Con. Why didn't you want anyone to know?”
With a sigh, he rubbed his facial hair.
“I was afraid you'd realize you could do better”
“What? What made you think that Con?”
“I sell drugs for a living, mami, I'm involved with a shit ton of dangerous people. I was afraid when others found out they'd start telling you things about me and you'd realize you can do so much better”
“Oh, Connie” You could no longer resist the need to be close to him. Maneuvering yourself so you sat in his lap you cupped his face as your eyes searched his.
“Papa there is no one better. I love you so much, Connie. There is nothing anyone could ever say to make me want or love you less because I know you. I know how much you care and love those around you. There is no one better, Connie.”
For some time, the two of you were wrapped in each other's arms as you faced your emotions.
When you both were calm, you finally dared to look into his eyes. The energy shift resembling the one from your birthday.
“Con” You slowly inched your face closer to his
“I'm sorry for all the hurt I put us through mami” His hand wrapped around your neck
“Déjame compensarte let me make it up to you” He closed the space between you.
It felt like the first breath taken after being underwater for a long time. You felt alive, felt loved. The once slow kiss grew into something more passionate. Both of you needy, as you fiend for dominance in the heated exchange.
Ultimately you lost the battle when his hands gripped your hips tightly as if to assure himself you weren't leaving again. It wasn't soon after that you found yourself in the back of his car with your legs resting on his shoulder as he drilled into you.
He littered kisses on your ankle as his grip on your hips tightened. His thick cock stretching you out had your eyes rolling back and moans of ecstasy coming out of your agape mouth.
“Yeah? You doing so good fa me ma. You miss this? Miss how good I fuck you?” His thumb found its way to your clit.
“Fuck, Connie” You whined. Attempting to push his hand away from the sensitive bud.
“Answer me princesa or ima stop” He warned
“Yes, Connie- mhmph I miss it so bad papi oh my god” Your velvety walls squeezed him tight.
"Fuuuck. Don't ever leave me again, you hear me? I can't take it, baby, I love you too much. T-try that shit again nd Imma make you watch while I put a bullet in between his eyes. Understand?” His pace increased.
God that shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. You were convinced you could have come on the spot, the added pressure on your carotids when you didn't answer immediately wasn't any help.
“Y-yes Con, I promise it won't happen again” You managed to say in between the moans and whimpers that you no longer had the energy to contain.
“Keep squeezing me, mami. I'm so fuckin close” He groaned, hand no longer on your neck as it rested against the steamy windows to stable himself.
The atmosphere of the car was pure filth. Your moans bounced off the windows, the sloshing sound of your wet pussy and slapping skin that created the creamy ring around the base of cock topping it all off.
His thrusts were slowly getting sloppy, you were just squeezing him so tight.
“C-Con” You managed to gasp out, the marks he littered on your neck to suppress his whimpers, having the coil in your belly tighten.
“I know mama, let go fa me” He groaned.
That instant you came, eyes rolling to the back of your head for a quick second as your cream and small spurts of squirt leaked from your pussy.
“Shit mama” He panted, dick twitching as he painted your walls with his cum.
Connie being the lover boy he was despite repeatedly denying it whispered apologies, and sweet promises into your ear as you came down from your high.
“I'm sorry mami, I promise to be better” He kissed you softly as if you were in a fairytale before whispering in your ear.
“But don't think just cus we're good now, that I'm not gon tear that ass up when we get home for giving that loser a taste of what's mine.”
I dont know how i feel about this one buuutttt all thanks to @masterofthepp for giving me this idea. Hopefully it meets your standards babes. As always any feedback is welcome. mwah
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d3vilcvntz · 5 months
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PLSS WRITE MORE LEON 🙏🙏 that’s all im requesting but if you could make something rough w/older leon and younger reader??
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leon s kennedy x top male reader
a/n : reader is around 24 and leon is 34 (10 years age gap). leon is afab again (obsessed with afab leon mb), reader's gender isn't really specified but written to have a dick
you've always looked up to him, he's the reason why you wanted to became a cop in the first place. something about him, attracts you. thankfully, your parents is quite powerful so you got yourself in the same place as him. working with him is your dream ever since he saved you when you were a teen. he might not remember you, but he's been on your mind since then
you were lucky enough to finally get him as your partner later on. all the sweat and tears were all worth it because now you're finally assigned together. actually working by his side feels so unreal for you. after months of being together and you basically flirting with him all the time, it finally happened.
you both were drunk and one thing lead to others. you confessed to him and he accepted, though he did hesitate at first because of your age gaps but still, it very much surprised you that he actually have feelings for you since you entered the agency but never really have the courage to say it to your face. he never really have time for relationships as he was always busy with works, but you were glad that he's willing to be in one with you.
it's your anniversary today, it has been 2 years since you've been together with him and everything went smooth. though, you did ended up arguing with him a few days ago.
it was over some stupid stuff. he keep saying things about how being with someone's old like him isn't really ideal and you should find someone your age. he even suggested for you to see other people that will suit you better, which breaks your heart a little because how can he suggested something like that when he knows that you love him very much :( don't he understand that you only wanted him and he's the only one that's perfect for you ?
but, you do understand his worries, he think too much about what others said. 10 years is a lot to others, but to you? you don't really care, he can be 50 and you'll still love him nonetheless.
and tonight, is the time you'll show him, how much you love him.
you prepared the room with flower petals on the floor, lightly scented candle on top of the bedside table, and a towel laid in the middle of the bed. now you're just waiting for him to come home, sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with your phone
he came home a few minutes later, with flowers in his hands, surprised by your preparations, he gave you a big smile "happy anniversary" he said, passing you the flowers "i..apologise for what i said before. i wasn't thinking right and i know that i hurt your feelings that time" he said, putting his hand on your face "it's okay, i am not mad about it anymore. it's our anniversary, so let's enjoy it to the fullest" you responded, putting your hand on top of his
the flowers he gave you are truly beautiful, but not as beautiful as him, laying on the bed. legs spread, face flushed. you specifically told him to wear a special made lingerie for him. it suits him perfectly, the white laces looks really good on him.
pushing the panties aside to take a look at his pretty pussy. playing with his clit and spreading his hole. it's so wet that you're sure you don't even need the lube. blowing air on it to make him shivered. "hurry" he demanded. he's so cute when he act like this , but you can't give in tonight. you thought of something that you've always wanted to try. suddenly raising your hand and
plap !
the sounds of his wet pussy meets your hand. his eyes were wide, mouth opened, feeling shocked of your sudden moves. you didn't say anything though, just flashed him your usual smile
plap !
"w-wait! stop" he said, trying to push your hands away "hmm you sure? looks like you're enjoying this" you teased him again, putting your fingers in his hole, your fingers sliding in so easily from how wet he is. sweet moans leaving his pretty lips. as he was enjoying it, you pulled your fingers out, which caught him off guard. as he was about to say something, you raise your hand again
plap !
you spank his pussy again "what...? what was that for?" he asked, confused and aroused at the same time. face flushed from embarrassment, he never felt like this before. he had no idea why you're doing this all of the sudden, like you're treating him more rougher than you ever did before. he's not used to this but, he doesn't hate it ♡
you didn't answer, instead, you land another spank on his pussy making him shuddered. he tried to struggle to get away from you but your grip is just too strong !
plap !
again
plap !
and again
plap !
as you spanked his pussy for the last time, he squirted all over your palm. you were shocked to see how he became just from being spanked on his pussy, guess he's really enjoying this.
tears are forming in his eyes, looking up at you. you just flashed him a smile before sitting right above his face, pulling out your dick from your underwear.
"suck" you told him. he was hesitant but did as he told. as he was going down on you, you pushed his head, forcing your cock to the back of his throat.
he was struggling to breath, hands gripping your thighs. you pull out, just to push it all in again. you were using him like a toy.
it felt too good for him, the way your cock reaches all the way to the back of his throat made his mind all blank, all he can think of is your cock ♡ the more you thrusts, the more he feels like he couldn't breath but, don't ever stop, because he's very much enjoying this.
you came deep inside his throat, making him swallowed it all. he knew that you weren't done with him as you grabbed the lube that you specifically put on the bedside and pour it all over your hand. "let's try something new" you said, moving his hair out of his face
before he even had the time to respond to what you just said, you push a finger in his asshole, the excessive amounts of lube making it quite easy to slide in. "feels weird" he whimpered, you shush him, playing with his clit to distract him from this unfamiliar feelings. slowly, you keep adding fingers until you feel like he's stretched enough
you positioned your dick right in his asshole. "w-wait" you slowly pushed your dick inside him, stretching him out. he's still quite tight despite all the stretching you did earlier. his hands gripping the sheets. you kiss him and played with his clit to ease him.
you finally pushed your cock all in, his pussy's juice dripping all over your hand. you started thrusting slowly but becoming rougher and faster as he eventually get used to it
you fingered his pussy as you thrust your dick inside of his asshole. his moans filling up the room "im close" he said, hands gripping your shoulders
you pushed his legs further to his chest, thrusting your dick deep inside him. your thrusts becaming sloppier now that you're close. you came inside him after a few more thrusts and he squirted all over himself right after. he's so easy to squirt <3 you're glad that you laid the towel down on the bed before or you'll have to do extra cleaning later on.
you pulled out and laid beside him, his head on your chest
"what was that all about ?"
he asked, his fingers drawing circle on your chest
"proving my love to you"
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enhaheeseung · 3 months
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Here to stay - L. Heeseung
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Pairing: heeseung X fem reader!
Warning: mentions of sex, angst, heartbreak, fluff, crying.
Genre: fuck buddies, smut, mdni!
WC: 2,881k maybe a little more
Continuation of “Come & Go”
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It's been one month since heeseung blocked you.
One whole month.
It was weird not hearing from you. It felt even more weird not getting up at two in the morning to run to your place and pleasure you.
Because he had cut all ties with you, he was sleeping earlier these days, but funny enough. His body was still waking him up at 2 in the morning, the time you'd usually call for him.
He felt pathetic cause his body was betraying his willpower to move on from you. Even if he was fighting for his mind to be occupied elsewhere, his heart still ached for you.
He was currently lying in bed, his phone clutched in his hand tightly, thumb itching to unblock your number.
"Fuck” he curses out loud and shuts his phone off, trying his best to respect the deal he made with Jay and ultimately trying to get over you, but it was so damn hard.
After nearly a year of being with you, it felt impossible to forget you. It felt impossible to move on with his life and find someone who would respect and love him for who he is and not just his body.
But fuck if he had to choose between you and true love, he's definitely picking you. Yeah, it hurt to be cast aside after being used by you, but it hurt so good that he'd always go back for more and more until you finally had your way and were done with him.
"Laying in bed all day isn't going to help" Jay opens his bedroom door without even knocking.
"Yeah, I kinda figured that out after the first week." heeseung rolls his eyes and sits up against his bed frame.
"The guys and I are going out. Do you want to come?" Jay fiddles with the lock on the doorknob.
"I'll pass." heeseung runs his fingers through his messy hair, sighing deeply.
"Well, the guys were hoping you could come so…" Jay murmurs.
"I'll make it up to all of you later. I still just need some time," Jay nods in understanding.
"Take your time." Jay slowly backs out of heeseung's room and closes the door silently.
"I just need some time," Heeseung quietly repeats to convince himself that all he needs is time, but even when he says it out loud, something in the pit of his stomach just doesn't feel right.
-
You sighed as you sat down at your desk at work, completely stressed out of your mind.
You could already tell you were going to have a headache when you got home tonight cause today has been nothing but a shit day.
It's one of those days where, just a month ago, you'd already be planning to call heeseung over so he could work his magic on your body and take all your stress away.
But no, because he blocked you cause he wanted more from you, and when he saw he wasn't getting it, he knew when to walk away.
You hate how you took him for granted. He was a great guy, amazing at sex and even better at cuddling you, and he also wasn't shy about making his like for you known.
You were just a piece of shit that disregarded him as a person with feelings and only saw him for what he could give to you, which was mind-blowing sex.
If you could have a do-over, then you surely would, one where you confessed to him and realized your feelings for him a whole hell of a lot sooner.
But you let your fear of being lied to and cheated on get in the way of your true happiness.
But could you even be blamed? Every man you were with did that to you, hence why you gave up on relationships and only had sexual transactions now.
But even you have to admit that Lee heeseung wasn't like Every Man. unfortunately, it took you too long to figure that out, and now here you are, heartbroken again because you let the past ruin your future. You did your best to stop that from happening and it still wasn't enough.
At least now a great guy like him could find someone who cared about him and loved him the way he deserved instead of someone like you who hid your feelings and was only going to confess after a whole year of practically using his body.
It hurt, but you hope he's happy with someone that's his equal and not a total piece of shit like you.
Who are you kidding?
It's not that simple; you wish it was, but you were going to be feeling this pain for days, if not months. Yeah, it was selfish of you to still want him around even after you played with his feelings for years, but it couldn't be helped.
If only you could have realized that he was worth taking a chance on months ago, maybe he'd be your boyfriend, maybe you'd be living together, maybe you'd be married and planning to have a family and live happily ever after.
The thought brings tears to your eyes, so you push your fairytale ideas to the side, focusing back on work before all your co-workers notice you shedding a few tears.
-
Another week had gone by, and heeseung felt the same. He knows they say it takes three months to get over someone, but how could he stay away from you that long? It was impossible, and that's why he's sneaking out of his and Jay's shared apartment to go to your place; being away from you was killing him inside. Even if you'd only use his body for sex and kick him out, it was still better than not being able to see or touch you at all.
He arrived some odd minutes later and jogged up the stairs to your building, heart racing in his chest, and he just hoped you wouldn't turn him away. He hopes you still at least just want him for sex. That'd be enough for him. Just knowing that you wanted something from him would be enough. He knows it's pathetic. He knows he deserves better, but he wants you, and he doesn't care if that makes him a loser. All he cares about is you.
The clock had just hit 2 in the morning, and you didn't know why you were holding your phone as if you could call him still, but you were. Maybe it was muscle memory, or maybe it was the only thing holding your emotions in check.
You laughed at yourself pathetically, but deep down, a part of you felt like you deserved this pain, and with that thought, you set your phone aside as the silence crept up on you, and instead of wallowing in self pity you were just going to go to sleep and wait for tomorrow so you could feel all these emotions again just this time it'd be a new time and a new date.
The knock on your door stops you in your tracks on your way to your bedroom you shake your head in disbelief because now you were even hallucinating the familiar sound of his knock.
You continued to walk to your bedroom until you heard it again and again, and there was no way that was just a hallucination, especially when the knocks became more frequent.
Heeseung was relentless outside your door. He wasn't going to stop until you let him in. He's sure you probably saw him outside the peephole by now, and he's not sure if you still even care to answer since he was the one who blocked you but fuck it, he was here now, and he wasn't taking no for an answer he needed you, and he needed you tonight.
He heard a soft click, the same one he always heard when you unlocked the door for him. His knocks came to a halt when he saw a faint light peaking through the crack of your door, and within a second, he stepped inside and slammed the door shut behind him, closing any type of personal space you once had. "Heeseun-" he doesn't even let you speak before he's jumping your bones, hands squeezing your waist as his lips met yours in a rushed kiss.
"Sorry I blocked you," he breathes out against your lips, still holding you tightly so you can't slip through his fingers. "Sorry I stopped coming, sorry I didn't answer," you moan into the kiss, hands strongly gripping his shoulders as you try to grasp what's happening.
You were shocked to see him, but you couldn't comprehend anything before you were making out with him, and right now, nothing else mattered but your lips working in perfect sync with each others.
"It was my friend's idea" he started trailing kisses down your neck, his large veiny hands cupping your tits roughly, causing you to arch your back and press yourself closer to him. "Said I should stop seeing you." he nibbled the skin of your neck as you moaned quietly. "But I couldn't. No matter how much you use me, I still want you," he whispers in your ear, his hot breath leaving a tingle running down your spine.
"Wait," you tell him breathlessly and push his shoulders, creating some distance between the two of you.
"Can't." he steps closer, lips pressing roughly against yours until you push him back again. "Please, I'll do anything. Please, just don't kick me out," he begs in a whiny voice. "I don't care if you only want me for sex. As long as you want me, that's enough."
"Heeseu-" he leans into you, his voice wobbly as he says the words he's been wanting to say for what feels like forever.
"I love you." he presses his face against your neck, inhaling your scent as his arms naturally wrap around you.
You hear him sniffle softly, and your heart breaks because none of what he was saying was how you felt, maybe in the very beginning, but definitely not now. "Hey," you cup his cheeks, making him look up at you, his watery eyes boring into your own. "I don't just want you for sex, okay, you're so much more than that, and I can't believe I'm saying this cause I never thought I'd utter the words again but fuck heeseung, I love you too. I love you so much," you whisper, hands running along his neck soothingly.
That's it. Lee heeseung had finally broken all your walls and infiltrated your heart. You thought they were impenetrable, but it turns out all you needed was someone who actually truly cared about you and not someone who was just using you for their own satisfaction.
He looks back and forth between your eyes, obviously confused by your words, and you laugh lightly because of his cute expression. "You don't have to say that just because I di-" You shut him up with one long-awaited meaningful kiss.
He was beyond happy to hear you saying those words to him, but this couldn't be real, could it? He must still be back at his apartment, dreaming of this moment that he had dreamt of a million times.
But your next words proved otherwise. "I know it's sudden, baby, I know, but I love you," You peck his cute pouted lips. "I just couldn't bring myself to tell you how I truly felt. I've been hurt so many times in the past, and I was just scared to move on with you, but I should have seen you were different from the start. I should have never strung you along and played with your feelings. I'm so sorry for everything, and I'm just so happy you're here now, and I can tell you how much you mean to me. You're so perfect, Lee Heeseung," you told him sincerely while stroking his soft cheek with your thumb, eyes full of nothing but love. "And I would be the luckiest girl on the planet to have all your love, and if you're willing to give me another chance, I want to give that same love back to you."
He's grinning from ear to ear, elated by the three words you just confessed to him.
He expected this to go so much differently than it has, but he wouldn't want it any other way. He can't believe you loved him back, like you actually felt the same way for him as he felt about you, and that was absolutely mind-blowing. And now that he thinks about it, he needs to have more than just a few words with Jay, but that could wait till later. Right now, he's gonna enjoy this surreal moment with you, the love of his life.
"Can you say all that again? You lost me at I love you," he chuckles, squeezing you in his arms tightly.
You giggle while nodding and repeating every single thing you said, and he listens very, very intently, his eyes sparkling as he looks at you with so much love.
"So maybe you can prove it to me in your room on your bed. How does that sound?" He scrunched his face up, laughing softly as you nodded your head shyly. "Yeah?" He grins.
"Yeah, I'll prove that and so much more, my love," you whisper seductively, and he visibly goes red, causing you to bite down on your lip to hold back your smile, and you can't help but think he looks so good all shy like that.
How did you ever get so lucky for him to give you another chance?
"God, I'm so happy," he sighs dreamily, staring at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes, and you felt so full knowing that he cared about you so much and was never shy to express it.
He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to bed. "I love you." he pecks the tip of your pretty nose, laying you down gently on your bed and hovering above you. "So much," he adds while leaning down and connecting your lips with his.
"I love you more." You smile so hard your cheeks start to hurt. "And for the record, you make me happier."
"Hey!" He whines cutely. "You make me the most happy."
And who were you to argue with that? Especially when his soft pink lips were colliding so perfectly with yours.
-
It was the morning after you and heeseung were lying down in bed together, his arm around you while your head rested on his bare chest. "Morning," you whisper, looking out the window and tickling his chest with your fingertips.
"Hmm, morning lovely," he chuckles and wraps his other arm around you. "Love you," he says with his raspy morning voice.
"Love you too." You kissed his chest all over, hearing him giggle from below you.
It's funny how it had been years since you said those words to a love interest, but with him, it just came so naturally, like you had been saying it for years.
"I gotta make it up to you, hee," you pout, tracing the faint line between his pecs.
"No baby, this is enough. Just you and me here now is all that matters," he assures you, but that's not good enough. He deserves the world.
"I know, but I want to do something for you," you tell him seriously.
"You don't take no for an answer, hmm?" He smiles.
"Not this time," you say matter-of-factly.
"Tell me what you want to do for me, baby. You were already amazing last night; I don't know what more I could ask for." You blush, hearing his words and feeling little butterflies erupt in your stomach. No one has ever talked to you as sweetly as he has. "Plus, you told me your side, and I understand it's hard, but I promise you I'll treat you right love, be the man you deserve."
"Oh, hee." You looked up at him, and your eyes started to water.
"It's only what you deserve" he taps your nose, making you smile, and now you want to give this man the whole world.
"That's it get ready," you tell him and hop off the bed. You were going to take him anywhere he wanted, buy him whatever he wanted, wine, and dine him the whole nine yards. Whatever he wanted, it was his, no questions asked.
"Okay, baby, but first, come take a picture with me so I can send it to Jay." You hop back in bed and take a cute picture of you both hiding under the sheets, with only your eye smile showing he sent it. Caption it: my girlfriend and me.
"Girlfriend?" You ask him.
"Don't act surprised. You know it was coming sooner or later," he laughs.
"Boyfriend!" You cheer after a few moments of letting this set in and tackle him in the biggest hug ever.
"I like the sound of that. Say it again, baby." you both smile, looking at each other completely lovestruck.
Heartbreak comes and goes, but this love is here to stay.
[END]
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Thanks so much for reading! Please leave feedback. I love you all and hope you enjoyed it since everyone was asking for a lot.2 lol🖤
Anyone who wants to be on the perm tag list or regular just lmk cause I keep forgetting.
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slut4thebroken · 4 months
Text
Stress Relief
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Cillian Murphy x reader
Summary | Holidays with your family are hard, but Cillian makes it a little more bearable.
Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, large age gap (unspecified), fluffy ish smut, oral (kind of), praise, a lil degradation, kissing, fingering, I need him to talk me through it 😭
Words | 3.6 k
Notes | Pretend I posted this 2 months ago💀🤫 Also wow- first /not/ dark smut in a while I think skdhdk
Ao3 link | <3
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With a heavy sigh, you flopped down onto the bed as he looked through his luggage. 
“Just a few more days.” You said through a breath. 
“Let’s get you changed, yeah?” You grunted out an acknowledgement, keeping your eyes closed and not moving. You heard him chuckle, then your shoes were being taken off. “I can’t tell if I make things better or worse by being here.” 
“Better. Definitely better.” You sighed and he unbuttoned your pants before pulling them down your legs. 
“I’m not sure they like me very much though.” He was saying it like a joke, but you knew he didn’t like the fact that most of your family disapproved. 
“I don’t care.” You muttered. When he pulled your torso to slip your sweater off, you whined in displeasure. He dressed you in your sleep shirt, then lifted you to carry you over to your side of the bed and lay you back down. If your family saw this, they’d probably understand. But he’s always been a perfect gentleman— polite, kind, respectful. You didn’t get why his age overshadowed all of that. When your eyes fluttered open, you turned your head to the side to watch him change into his pajamas, then he was pulling the covers back and joining you. 
“Thank you for being here.” You said softly, turning on your side to face him. He gave you a warm smile and brushed your hair away from your face. 
“I just hate seeing how stressed you get.” He murmured, gaze trailing all over your face. 
“You help a lot. More than you know.” You returned the smile and placed a hand on his arm. He stared at you for a moment, then reached behind himself to turn off the lamp. 
“C’mere.” He said quietly, pulling you into him. He placed a gentle kiss on your head and you buried your blushing face in his chest, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. After a while, he started trailing one hand up and down your arm, relaxing you even more. That is… until his hand started straying to your hip. 
“Not here.” You whispered. It took every ounce of self restraint you had to gently bat his hand away, but he was undeterred. 
“You can be quiet.” His hand was gripping your hip now, teasing the fabric of your underwear. 
“Cillian, you can literally hear everything in this house.” As if to emphasize your point, you heard a cough come from one of the rooms. 
“Then don’t make any noise, baby.” He pushed you onto your back and started kissing the side of your neck as his warm hand rubbed your stomach, beneath the shirt. You let out a pleased sigh and tilted your head to give him more room, making him chuckle quietly. He suddenly moved his hand down, beneath your underwear, and swiped his fingers through your slit. 
“Christ.” He whispered, making you whine from embarrassment, but he quickly shushed you, reminding you to be quiet. 
“Cillian.” You said through a breath. You brought a hand up to grip his bicep, but you didn’t try to pull him away. His fingers rubbed slow circles over your clit and he gently nipped at your neck. You wanted nothing more than for him to suck the skin into his mouth, mark you as his… but you knew that would only make things worse between him and your family. When you whined quietly, he seemed to pick up on what you were thinking because he pushed your shirt up your body to kiss your chest, leaving a few marks. 
His free hand suddenly covering your mouth almost made you moan, but his fingers slipping inside was what actually made the sound come out. He pressed down harder, trying to muffle your sounds even more. You breathed heavily through your nose as he slowly curled his fingers inside you. Scrunching your brows, you stared at him with wide eyes and shook your head beneath his hand. 
“Let me be your stress relief, baby.” He whispered, starting to move his fingers a little faster now. You whimpered quietly, his words and actions making you melt. 
Your hips were squirming against his hand now, trying to get more from what he was giving you. He leaned back down and softly kissed your jaw, then worked his way down your neck, stopping just below your ear. 
“Can you be quiet?” He whispered, breath fanning your ear, and you nodded even though you didn’t believe it. The second he removed his hand, his face was going back into your chest, this time paying attention to your breasts. Your breath caught in your throat and you brought your hands up to his hair when he sucked your nipple into his mouth. 
“Cillian..” You whispered, hips grinding against his hand. 
“Shh, baby. No sounds.” He said softly, barely pulling away enough to speak. Once he deemed your nipple hard enough, he moved to the other one to give it the same treatment. “Good girl.” That made you whine and pull harder on his hair. You bit your lip until it hurt, trying to keep the sounds in. But when his fingers sped up and the heel of his hand started stimulating your clit, you knew you couldn’t do it. 
“I can’t— I can’t.. fuck.” You whispered, squeezing your eyes shut and putting all of your focus into staying silent. 
“You can.” He kissed up your chest and neck until he reached your face. “Let me make you feel good, baby.” You opened your eyes when you felt his breath fanning your lips. 
“This door doesn’t even lock.” You protested weakly. 
“All the more reason to stay quiet.” Before you could say anything else, he leaned down and kissed softly. His fingers slowed into a gentle curling motion, not trying to bring you closer to the edge yet. When you snaked a hand down his stomach, he broke the kiss and gently pulled your hand away. “This is just about you, love.” He explained, making you frown.
“But,”
“None of that.” He scolded softly. “Anything I do with my cock, you won’t be able to stay quiet for.” Even though you knew he was right, you still weren’t happy about it. “Don’t be a brat.” He warned when he saw your expression. 
“m’not.” You muttered, still pouting. 
“Should I stop? Leave you like this and go to bed?” You looked away from him, still wanting to argue, but not wanting to be denied. “Thought so. Now be a good little girl, lay there and take my fingers,” his eyes darkened as he leaned closer to you, “and keep your fucking mouth shut.” He hissed, using his hard dom voice. You stared at him with wide eyes, chest heaving as you squirmed, getting needier just from a few words. 
“Do you understand?” You nodded quickly and he raised his brows. 
“Y-yes.” You corrected yourself. His fingers picked back up almost immediately and your hand shot up to cover your mouth, muffling the moan that slipped out. He didn’t bother building back up to the pace, he just went from zero to one hundred. 
You breathed heavily through your nose, scrunching your brows together in concentration. His lips were slightly parted as he stared down at you with half lidded eyes, clearly affected by this situation as well. 
When he hit that particularly good spot inside of you, your eyes widened even more and you shook your head with a quiet whimper, warning him. There’s no way you’ll be able to stay quiet. His fingers were moving almost violently and you sobbed out a moan, making them stop instantly. You whined in response and he used his free hand to grab your neck, squeezing the sides tightly. 
“What did I say?” He hissed and you removed your hand from your mouth finally. 
“I’m sorry— I’m sorry. I’m trying…” You whispered through a breath. “Please.” When you pouted and bucked your hips, his expression turned into one of amusement. 
“Fine.” He resumed the relentless pace, keeping his hand on your neck. “You want to moan like a slut for the whole house to hear? That’s fine by me.” You faltered because, no… that’s not what you wanted. “Give them a show, baby. Make sure they all know how good I make you feel— how easy it is to turn you into a brainless little whore, unable to keep your fucking mouth shut.” He hissed, making you even needier. 
“Cillian..” You whined. 
“Yes, love?” He asked innocently. 
“I’m trying.” You whimpered, feeling tears of humiliation and desperation stinging your eyes. 
“I know, baby.” He cooed mockingly. “I know you are.” It almost seemed like he wanted you to be loud with the way he started grinding his palm against your clit and moving his fingers faster. Wet noises were just barely audible beneath the blankets but you knew he heard it too when he let out a breathy laugh. “Such a needy fucking pussy.” He whispered with a small smirk. “You’re dripping down my hand too.”
“Stop teasing me.” You whined with a pout. 
“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t help it.” He chuckled warmly. 
“You’re being mean!” Under normal circumstances, this would’ve been when you raised your voice at him. 
“Fingering my girlfriend is mean?” 
“Stop it!” You whined, louder this time. Your frown deepened, but it was hard to keep the expression with his fingers still curling against your walls. 
“Enough.” He growled, his grip on your neck tightening even more as his fingers inside you came to a stop. “Tell me the safe word.” He ordered, tone slightly softer, but still stern. You bit your lip and averted your gaze, making him squeeze your neck harder until you looked at him again. 
“…Red.” You muttered. 
“That’s right. The only time I want you to open your fucking mouth is to say that. One more word and I’ll shove my cock so deep down your throat you won’t even be able to make any sounds.” He warned. He’s big enough where even when you deepthroat, you can’t go all the way down. So you took the threat to heart. “Do you understand?”  
“Yes.” You whispered, then quickly closed your mouth. He didn’t bother replying before slowly moving his fingers again, getting you used to the feeling. You tried to take deep breaths through your nose to stay calm and collected, but you were still looking at Cillian, his face lit up by the moonlight. 
His gaze flickered between your eyes and your mouth and you instantly recognized the facial expression he had— The hunger and heat in his eyes as he prepared to ravish you. Normally that look was followed shortly after by him mounting you as he kissed you, swallowing your moans and pushing his cock inside, only stopping when he was buried all the way in. Judging by his heavy breathing and the way his cheeks tensed as he clenched his jaw, you figured he was thinking the same thing. 
You almost moaned his name, but remembered just before the word could come out. So you pleaded with him silently by furrowing your brows and looking up at him with wide eyes. He cursed under his breath and closed his eyes for a moment as he composed himself. 
When he suddenly got up on his knees and settled between your open legs, you felt a flicker of hope that you’d get what you wanted. He leaned down to kiss you, but made no move to take out his fingers or push down his pants. It took everything in you to not whine. 
He started kissing over your jaw and down your neck to your chest. When his lips latched on to your nipple, you quickly covered your mouth to hold in the sounds begging to escape. He rolled the other one between his fingers gently and your free hand went to his hair, tugging on it and pulling him impossibly closer. He let out a low groan from the slight pain on his scalp, the sound adding to your arousal. 
“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” He murmured, lifting his head to look at you as his hand started rubbing up and down your side. His fingers picked up, going faster and harder, bringing you closer to the edge. “My perfect little girl.” He whispered, leaning back over you and cupping your cheek. 
He suddenly kissed you again, his lips moving passionately against yours, claiming you in whatever way he could. While you were distracted with the kiss, he forced a third finger inside, making you release a startled moan that was muffled by his lips. Once you quieted down again, he reluctantly pulled back. 
“Can you come for me, baby?” He rasped, almost sounding desperate for it. When you nodded quickly, he gave you a warm smile. “Good girl… Can you be quiet while you do?” You looked away sheepishly, not sure if you should be honest or tell him what he wants to hear. You looked at him again and nodded slowly, your face almost looking guilty while you answered him. He chuckled quietly and gave you another kiss, this one much quicker. “That’s my girl.” He whispered proudly, making you blush and buck your hips into his hand. 
His fingers suddenly sped up, curling against your walls as his hand pressed firmly against your clit. Your blush darkened when he continued staring down at you, his eyes half-lidded with arousal. You couldn’t wait to finally go home so he could actually fuck you. It’s barely been a week and you’re already going crazy without having his cock inside you. 
Maybe you can convince him to take you to the “store” or something tomorrow and then park somewhere secluded and fuck in the car. But also the build up of so many days without it will make for some pretty fucking good sex when you get home… You couldn’t help but think about what he’d do— how many times he’d make you come, how sore and bruised your body would get, how much he’d fill you up, breed you until he didn’t have any come left to give you. 
“Fuck,” You choked out, clinging to his shoulders as the knot of arousal in your stomach tightened considerable. “I- I’m…” You whispered, unable to say anything else. His hand suddenly covered your mouth again, making you moan quietly. 
“Come for me, baby. Let me make you feel good.” He begged, voice incredibly raspy now. 
Your orgasm finally crashed over you and you clenched your jaw, trying to stifle your sounds. His fingers never faltered as your walls clamped down on them tight enough to almost force them out. “Good girl… I’m so proud of you, baby.” He cooed, making you whine and arch up into him as you rode it out to the very end. When you finally sagged back into the bed and started panting, he released your mouth and slowly pulled his fingers out. You watched as he instinctively lifted them toward his mouth, then suddenly stopped, staring at them for a moment. Cursing under his breath, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a tissue to clean them off. When he looked at you again and saw your confused expression, he explained. 
“If I taste you, I won’t be able to stop myself from eating you out and you're even louder during that.” You blushed, but laughed quietly because he was right. Finally, he laid down next to you and when you got up to move to the foot of the bed, he pulled you back with a gentle hand on your wrist. 
“I’m okay, baby.” He said softly, but his voice was still thick with arousal. “Tonight was just about you.” He kissed the top of your head and you couldn’t help but blush. 
“But…” You can literally see his hard on from beneath the covers. And also your mouth is already watering at just the thought of tasting and feeling him. “I want it.” You pouted, like a child who was denied a treat. 
“Not tonight, love. You’ll be too loud and it’s too messy.” You frowned, but didn’t protest because you were already coming up with a plan in your head. 
“Fine. We’ll just sleep then.” You grabbed his wrist and pulled as you turned onto your side, facing away from him. He cuddled you from behind, being careful to keep his hips far away from yours. After maybe a minute, you subtly shifted around, pushing your ass back. You didn’t reach his bulge before he grabbed your hip hard to hold you still. 
“Stop.” He warned, breath fanning your neck, making you shiver. 
“I’m just trying to get comfortable.” You said innocently, making him scoff. 
“No, you’re being a brat.” 
“I thought tonight was about me and what I want. Well this is what I want.” You reached behind yourself and palmed his bulge before he could stop you. He grunted in surprise, then his grip on your body got infinitely tighter. 
“Fuck— fuck. Fine.” He muttered, turning to lay on his back. You smirked and moved down the bed until you were laying between his legs. Without wasting any time, you freed his cock and stroked him slowly, making him sigh quietly. 
“In your mouth.” He ordered and you obeyed eagerly. When you started going up and down, keeping your hand at the base, he stopped you. “No. I’m going to fuck my fist and you’re going to keep your mouth on it until I come. Understand?” As soon as you realized that you weren’t going to be actively participating, you pouted and looked at him with puppy dog eyes. “It's either this or I go jerk off in the bathroom and finish in the toilet instead.” You whined loudly and his hand shot out to grab your hair and pull roughly. “Quiet.” He hissed. 
“Cillian..” You whined again, quieter this time. When all he did was stare at you, you frowned and removed your hand, letting his replace it. Once his hand was on his cock, you took the tip in your mouth and closed your lips around it with a quiet whine. 
“Good girl.” You whimpered, then started suckling on it, getting needier when you could taste some precum. For a while he just stroked his cock, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on him. But you needed more. 
“You’re not close yet, right?” 
“No.” He said through a breath. You immediately dove down and started kissing and licking his balls, forcing a choked moan out of him. You chuckled quietly and shushed him, but kept going. When you sucked one into your mouth, his hips bucked and he threw his head back, biting his lip to stifle any sounds. The sight had you squeezing your thighs together, but you forced your focus back onto the task at hand. 
“Shit, baby…” He whispered. Other than his heavy breathing, the only other sound that filled the room was your mouth, licking and sucking as saliva started building up. If you were at home, the sounds would’ve been far more obscene and spit would’ve been dripping down your chin by now, but you tried to keep things quiet and mess free. 
“Back on my cock.” He rushed out, stroking himself faster. You leaned up and wrapped your lips around him again, suckling on the head and swirling your tongue around it. One of your hands moved to gently play with his balls, giving him even more stimulation. 
“Christ… Don’t stop, baby. Please don’t stop.” He whispered, jerking himself impossibly faster. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked him down a little more. Instead of reprimanding you, he cursed under his breath and reached his free hand out toward you. “Hold my hand.” He begged. “I won’t be able to stop myself from pushing you down.” Even though your whole body was craving that, you knew it would be too loud, so you gave him your free hand and he squeezed it tight. 
He didn’t give you any warning before his abs contracted as his whole body tensed up, then the first shot of come hit the back of your mouth. You let out a surprised sound and his grip on your hand got even tighter. He fisted his cock rapidly, giving you every last drop as his lips parted in a silent moan and his brows scrunched together from the pleasure. 
Even though this seemed like one of the more tame ways you’ve given oral, it still felt dirtier than most. He wasn’t fucking your mouth or your throat, using you to get himself off. He was getting himself off and just using you as a cumdump. He wasn’t using you for pleasure, he was using you the same way he would a toilet, had he gone to the bathroom to jerk off. The thought had you moaning loudly before you could hold it in. 
When his body finally relaxed and his hand slowed to a stop, you pulled off and opened your mouth, showing him how well you’d done your job. His cock twitched and you smiled even though your mouth was still open, making him curse under his breath. You finally closed your mouth and swallowed all of it, then opened it again and stuck your tongue out for him to see. 
“Get up here.” He said almost breathlessly. With his hand still holding yours, he used it to pull you up until you were laying on your stomach, half on the bed and half on him. “You’re a damn tease, you know that?” 
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said innocently, with a small smirk. 
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oosleepyfaeoo · 2 months
Text
A Kiss Is All I Need
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Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Chapter One
Summary: 2 months ago, Alys, the love of his life, broke up with him. Their relationship of five years gone by a simple farewell note that she left on their, well now his, penthouse. 2 months crying and feeling like shit but that all stopped when he meet you on that dreadful clothing store.
Warnings: Some angst, Aegon being the wingman, she/her pronouns, slow burn, eventual smut
Words: 2k
Masterlist
A/N: English is not my main language so i apologize for bad grammar but i hope you still like it! Feel free to reblog and comment! It would make me really happy to know you guys thoughts (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
“Seriously, Aemond. Relax a little.” Aegon drawls, eyeing his little brother carefully.
Aemond stood beside his brother, tense as a rock, contemplating his surroundings while his long pale fingers toy with his old, stained t-shirt. They currently stood in the middle of the clothing store, waiting for their sister Helaena while she chose some new and clean clothes for Aemond.
His siblings finally, after a month of rotting in his penthouse, dragged him out of the house to get some fresh air and apparently, some new clothes.
Aemond just shot his brother a glare and continued nervously toying with his t-shirt. Aegon rolls his eyes. “She did a number on you, didn’t she?” He says with a small frown.
2 months ago, Alys, the love of his life, broke up with him. Their relationship of five years gone by a simple farewell note that she left on their, well now his, penthouse. He still remembers how his heart beat so fast against his ribcages while he searched the whole house for her, noticing that all her clothes and jewelry (which he gifted to her) were gone.
He met her at one of his family company parties. Alys was the secretary of Lyonel Strong. Aemond was completely in awe with her when his eye landed on her, the way she moved so gracefully, and how her green eyes sparkled with mischief and wisdom.
When they made their relationship public, it was quite a shock for everyone, especially his mother. He was 23 and she was 35 at the time which was entirely understandable since they had a big age gap, twelve years to be precise.
“I don’t want to talk about her.” Aemond murmurs, trying his hardest to not think about Alys.
Aegon sighs and wraps his arm around his brother's shoulders. “I know you don’t... But try to loosen up a little.” He looks at Aemond worriedly. “Everyone is worried about you... Seven Hells, even Jace, and Luke are worried-”
Aemond looked down with a frown when suddenly he felt a gentle pull on his jeans. By his feet was a little girl dressed in a princess costume, full of pink and sparkly glitter. Her black hair hangs in two cute pigtails and a small simple tiara on top of her head.
The child looks carefully at Aemond, her eyes fixed on his eyepatch. “Are you a pirate?” She asks with an excited grin, her big round eyes shining in mischief.
Aegon burst out laughing while Aemond just stood there, looking down at the small girl in shock.
She huffs in annoyance and pulls the fabric of his jeans again. “Well?”
Noticing that Aemond does not intend to answer the poor girl, Aegon kneels beside the girl and gives her a kind smile.
“Sorry kid but he’s no pirate.” His answer made the girl frown in disappointment. “But he’s a Prince!” Now that made her look at Aemond in surprise and then back at Aegon, eyeing carefully.
“If he’s a Prince then why he doesn't smile?” She asks.
That pierce a little Aemond’s heart. Kneeling, he grabbed her small hand and gave her a small smile. “I’m sad... So that’s why I don’t smile much, little Princess.”
The girl giggles at her nickname but quickly disappears as she frowns, looking into his eye intensely. Then she took a step forward, placed her tiny hands on his cheeks, and kissed the point of his nose. Aemond stood very still, his eye wide in surprise at the girl's gesture.
She pulls back and smiles in excitement. “There! A kiss always pushes the sadness away!” The girl says proudly. “My mommy always kisses me whenever I'm sad or hurt.”
//// \\\\
“Em!” You call while looking everywhere in the clothing store for your daughter. “Emily! Where are you?!”
You can’t take that girl anywhere without getting a panic attack. You love to the death, she was your sun and moon but sometimes you wish that your daughter wasn't so adventurous. You were finishing a client order when you noticed your daughter leaving the bakery and running into the clothing store right in front. This made you leave everything that you were doing and run after her.
Sighing in relief, you spot her by the men's section talking to 2 silver-headed men. “Emily!” You breathe out as you kneel and pull her into a hug. “Don’t you ever disappear on me again! Mommy’s heart can’t handle any more surprise adventures.”
Your daughter grins at you and points to the man with an eyepatch. “Mommy I found a Prince!” She says excitedly. “Don’t worry, he’s not a pirate.” She whispers that part to you which makes you chuckle.
You stood up, holding Emily in your arms. “I’m so sorry. I hope my daughter didn’t bother you too much.” You apologize.
The handsome eyepatch man stood still looking down at you. A light blush appears on your face as you study his face properly. He was tall, really tall, with beautiful silky long silver hair that was loosely braided. His features were sharp which made him even more attractive. His eye was colored in a lovely ice blue shade with a hint of light purple. A black eyepatch covers his other eye, and you notice a long scar coming out of it down to his cheek. He was dressed in a simple green t-shirt (which seems to have seen better days) some black jeans, and black Doctor Martens.
He seemed nervous as he began playing with his fingers. “Huh... It’s no problem. Your daughter is a very sweet child.” he smiles softly.
“Mommy! Mommy! The Prince was sad so I kissed his nose like you do to me when I'm sad or hurt. And now he’s happy!” Emily giggles while resting her head on your shoulder.
“That’s very sweet of you, Em... But you can’t go wander off and kiss strangers.” You sigh while giving an apologetic look to the silver-headed man. “You know that while mommy is working, you need to stay with Maria.”
Emily rolls her eyes and pouts. “Ugh, but Maria is boring! She stays in front of the computer all day and does nothing... I much prefer staying at home, at least I could play with Pumpkin.”
You adjust her tiara on her head and kiss her forehead gently. “I know but I can’t let you be at home alone, sweetheart.”
While you scold your daughter, trying to convince her to stay with your employee. Aegon stays silent studying the scene before him. He had noticed how Aemond suddenly couldn’t take his eye off you or how his pale cheeks suddenly turned pink when you smiled gently at him.
Aegon also noticed you eyeing his little brother which made him grin mischiefly. Oh, he had a plan forming in his head. A BIG plan.
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to intrude but it seems you are in need of a babysitter for this lovely Princess,” Aegon says while smiling at Emily who grins at him. He wraps his arm around Aemond’s shoulders and pulls him to his side. “My baby brother, Aemond, is in need of a job and he’s great with kids. He usually babysits our nephews. So, he knows how to take care of children.”
Aemond shot Aegon a glare and opened his lips to disagree with whatever his brother had in mind, but Aegon just smiled at him and stepped on his foot to silence him.
“So, what do you think?” Aegon grins down at you.
You frown gently. It’s true that you seriously needed a babysitter for Emily, but you don’t have time to look for one since being a single mother and owning a bakery occupy your days. Also, it’s hard to trust a stranger to look after your kid. Your friend, Nat, tried to convince you to hire a babysitter after Emily turned one year old but you quickly refused, saying that you could perfectly manage taking care of Emily and your business alone.
Oh boy, how wrong you were. Since Emily started walking, your life has been a nightmare. She was like a ninja. One minute she was there and the next, she was gone. Every day you would have to run off from your work to go find her. She loves exploring and she makes sure you know that, every, single, day.
Maybe Nat is right.
“Okay,” You sigh. Aegon clapped in victory and smiled at his brother. “But I will be needing an interview with Aemond. To see if he has the training that is needed to look after a child.”
“Of course! When?” Aegon asked while Aemond just stood there petrified.
“Tomorrow at 2 pm.” You took your business card and gave it to Aemond. “You will find me in my bakery shop. It’s right in front of this store.”
Aemond nodded and took your card. “Thank you... I’ll be there.”
You smile gently and say your goodbyes, taking Emily back to your shop. “Bye Bye Prince!” The girl waved to him with a toothless smile which made Aemond smile gently and wave back.
When you and Emily are out of the clothing store, Aemond turns to his brother and slaps roughly on his shoulder. “What in the actual fuck was that, Aegon?!” He growled.
Aegon hissed in pain and pouted. “Ouch!... Is this how you thank your big brother for getting you a date with that hot girl?!”
Aemond rolls his eye. “By making me a babysitter?” He sighs. “Look Aegon, I'm not ready to be with someone yet... Also, did you not think that maybe she has a husband?”
Aegon grins at him. “No ring on her finger so she’s probably single. And you are more than ready to be with someone... It’s been two months since you and Alys broke up, you had your time weep and now it’s time to go back into action.”
Helaena pops beside Aegon with her arms full of clothes that she chooses for Aemond. “Our little brother has a date tomorrow!” Aegon claps excitedly.
Helaena gasps in surprise and then looks back to the clothes in her arms and back to Aemond, frowning gently. “We need more clothes.” She whispers while going back into the clothing store with Aegon on her trail.
Aemond sighs in defeat but a tiny smile appears on his thin lips. He’s not going to lie, you seem really interesting. 
Tag list is open!
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cxlamarisalxmi · 1 year
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Being Miguel’s daughter and hosting Venom [2]
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[Platonic One-Shot]
c/w: fighting, depictions of violence and gore, angst, female pronouns (she/her), feminine gendered terms used to describe reader, Venom is a big softie, only for you though 🤭
a/n: this is marked as part two because the first one shot was the first part, the drabble was more of an introduction to the idea 😭 I understand there might be some confusion about how these parts are set up but yeah the drabble was intended to introduce the idea more than it was meant to be an actual part of the series— like an extended epigraph… sort of
It was raining the day your father had decided to return to your dimension— the dark and gloomy rain clouds above thick and heavy as they devoured the sky.
With them they brought raindrops thick and heavy in density that were spat out in a torrential downpour. Falling in copious and rapid quantities.
You had been sitting perched on the corner of a building’s roof, observant and watchful as you patrolled the streets from your perch.
The darkness that had followed the overcast night sky left the street lamps and starkly bright city lights bright and prominent in their glow. And your sensitive and finely tuned auditory perception picked up on the sounds of tires driving through rainwater on the pavement. The sound of particularly nocturnal people walking, bustling and moving about— the way their shoe soles stepped on the soaked through concrete of the sidewalk, some splashing as they came across puddles in the divets of the ground.
Everything that involved your senses and being aware of the world around you sharpened dramatically, now keen on focusing on the world around you. Listening starkly for any kind of traumatic event occurring.
“I like the rain.”
“Me too.”
“The atmosphere is relaxing. We feel at peace.”
You couldn’t help but agree, the weather more than accommodating in the sense your mood had improved drastically.
It had been two weeks since your father had made his appearance, and since then you had been tightly wound and more than a little hurt at his abrupt intrusion. Even more hurt at the way he had just left without so much as an ounce of effort in trying to get you to talk to him.
He had called your name, and he did speak to you— that was something you could acknowledge, but the fact he hadn’t bothered trying beyond that spoke a lot about what your relationship had come to. What it still was.
He didn’t care about you, he never had and the encounter from a little less than half a month ago gave you the impression that he never would.
A small part of you could admit that you had hoped maybe he would come after you, chase you down, take you into his arms and hold you tenderly. Lovingly.
An even larger part overwhelmed that feeling with a cold and bitter indifference that made you more angry than sad. Sparked to life when he left you behind in a home you didn’t know, with people you didn’t trust— and festered to much more significant levels as the years continued to pass with not a single word from him.
You shouldn’t have expected him to make an effort to fix your relationship, and you hated that you were so bothered that he hadn’t tried at all. You should’ve known that he hadn’t ever intended to be involved with you at all. And you should’ve just accepted that your relationship was beyond fixing— and there was no point in trying to repair something that had died a long time ago. Irreparable— damaged and broken.
And whilst anger and hate had spread and taken over most of your heart and soul, there was still a small part inside that was more hurt than anything.
That small child inside that had depended on her father more than ever in the wake of her mother’s death. A little girl that had quickly learned he wasn’t dependable, she couldn’t count on him at all. And she was quick to learn that there wasn’t anyone who had her back, was on her side. It developed into her trusting absolutely no one— “the only one I can really trust.. is me.”
“[Y/Name]? Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you murmured quiet and tame as you continued to watch over the city. The darkness and ache that had consumed your heart so very deeply at the remembrance of your father had dissipated when your friend had spoken to you. “I’m fine V.”
“Was it about him?”
You didn’t respond and they had expected that you wouldn’t, and didn’t say much after that. And you appreciated their understanding that you didn’t want to talk about them.
There was a moment of tranquility, peace in the loud bustle of your city as the rain continued to fall. But then your senses tingled as the familiar sound of a portal spinning open erupted behind you. There wasn’t a moment of stillness that you allowed before you were spitting webs at the wall behind the portal.
Miguel walked through the portal a moment later, it closed a second after and then you were launching yourself at him.
He may have not had the tingle at the expense he wasn’t even really changed like you had been. He hadn’t been bitten but had his genetic code changed, and his abilities came from a vial of liquid he injected directly into his bloodstream to keep his powers sharp and potent.
So, whilst he didn’t have the spider senses that tingled anytime danger was nearby, his natural instincts had been sharpened finely. Thus, he was able to bring up his arms as you drop kicked him into the wall you had slung your webs at.
Even though he was blocking his face protectively you had put enough strength behind the kick to hurt him, and he grunted as your kick connected sending him flying back.
[Y/Name] jumped to meet him against the brick wall and grabbed him by the throat, tightening her clawed fingers around his neck before she was pulling him from the wall and throwing him off the building to the street below.
The previous feeling of peace and content that had warmed her chest and blood had diminished, and was now replaced with thorough rage. Hot and ferocious.
[Y/Name] had sworn to Venom that she absolutely would resort to murder if her father ever returned to her universe, and here he was. So the alien didn’t falter nor make an effort to halt the anger that was slowly but surely filling his host’s body.
Another portal opened up behind her and she felt an itch of annoyance as she felt the familiar presence that made her senses tingle. Jessica Drew.
A snarl tugged at her features as she curled her lip and looked over her shoulder, a ferocious glare fierce and angry in her bright eyes.
“Venom.”
“Of course.”
Jessica stared as a thick, black matter pooled from her back and slid across her lean and muscular frame. The alien-like viscous oil gliding across every plane of her frame, concealing her entire white and blue suit in a tightened black version of it instead.
“[Y/Name],” Jessica began soft and quiet— an attempt to somehow quell the furious fire of rage she could feel hot and angry from where she stood several feet behind the young teenager. “I know what you must be feeling—”
“You don’t know shit.”
“You want to kill him. And I can’t let you do tha—”
Her sentence was cut short when she was suddenly thrown backwards, her senses had tingled but not nearly quick enough. And she had been sent backwards to the brick wall in consequence, she gaped at the O’hara stood in front of her on the edge of the roof.
She had turned to face Jessica with her back, and the blackened webbing surrounding her body seemed to pulse and tightened around her body. Every time she squirmed attempting to loosen them, cut them or escape they would just tighten. She resorted to calling out to [Y/Name] instead—
“Spider-Woman doesn’t kill people!”
[Y/Name] willed her mask to peel away, the small and thin tendrils crawling up her neck and hugging her forehead only made the harsh glare she threw at Jessica over her shoulder much darker. The snarl she gave baring abnormally sharp canines seemed to make her even more intimidating— it made Jessica uncomfortable how a simple look made a chill rake down her back.
“You’re right. But we do.”
And she shivered again at the alien voice that rumbled from the young adult’s chest. The words she spoke only succeeding in making her all the more uncomfortable and frightened. The tone she spoke in was deep and ferociously monstrous. And Jessica stared as the O’hara glared back for a single second before she jumped disappearing over the side of the roof.
[Y/Name] landed on the sidewalk paved along the side of the asphalt road, she jumped forward flipping out of the way as her father shot a web at the spot she occupied previously.
But he had jumped to meet her midair and they grappled as they fell back to the road, she managed to wrangle a hold on the back of his suit and brought forth Venom’s strength to throw him down the road before landing on it herself.
Miguel’s sharpened instincts flared aggressively as his young daughter launched a car at him. He spun around extending his arm forward simultaneously— the long and sharp blade on his forearm cutting the car cleanly in half. But she had been there to surprise him, lunging forward after she had thrown the car knowing he’d cut it in half opening up an ambush as she erupted in between each piece of the vehicle.
He gasped silently in shock at her appearance through the split and grunted when her punch connected to his face. Enough strength from her abilities coupled with Venom to send him flying back. And he flipped midair to land on his feet several feet down the street, he dug the blades on his forearms into the pavement to halt his movement as he looked up.
“I suffered! Alone! For twenty years, because of your cowardice!” [Y/Name] shouted as she stormed down the street, the mask Venom provided peeling back to reveal a ferocious snarl tugging her lips back and baring abnormally sharper canines.
“Protecting the security of the multiverse is not cowardly!”
“You knew invading another universe at the expense of your variant’s death was wrong! You knew your presence could collapse the very fabrics of a dimension! You always knew!” She roared in exclamation to his rather weak defense, having stopped just a few feet in front of him to properly put her feelings forward. Give him everything she had bottled up inside that had erupted suddenly since his abrupt appearance in her dimension two weeks ago.
Miguel just stood there, he swallowed thickly at her statement as he held eye contact with her. There wasn’t any indication he was intimidated by her on his face, his expression blank and guarded with slanted brows and narrowed eyes. But internally he was dreading the fight that would no doubt occur, she was anomoly after all.
“But— when she told you she was pregnant, when she told you she was excited to start your family.. what did you do? What did you do? You. Ran!”
“She was never meant to bear children! Never meant to give birth to you— that was not my fault!”
The audacity he had to ruin her life and not even acknowledge it only made [Y/Name] all the more furious, her blood boiling beneath her skin as she tightened her vicious snarl. “Not your fault?!”
[Y/Name] advanced forward, she reached to her left— her muscular forearm flexing beneath the deep black Venom suit as she gripped the side of another car and effortlessly lifted it throwing it at him.
He jumped to the side to dodge but she was there to meet him once again, having leapt from her spot on the street to put her knee in his face. He couldn’t bring his arms up quick enough to block it this time, and she forced him backwards when she utilized Venom’s alien strength to really hurt him.
Miguel grunted as her strike connected and he was thrown into the side of the building off to the side. She followed right behind him tearing her arm back and throwing it forward the second she was close enough. The hit had enough power and strength in it to send him right through the brick wall and into the empty warehouse within.
[Y/Name] landed several feet away from the form of her father on the ground, he was slow to get back to his feet but once he had he turned to face her. And she could tear his throat out at the scowl carved into his features, the conversation that followed only making her all the more infuriated.
“I’m not here for any other reason than to capture the anomaly in your dimension.” He says, a still blank and guarded look on his face. One that his young daughter matched only to a degree that looked more like she was enraged rather than unbothered.
“There’s no anomaly here, Venom and I would’ve picked up it’s unnatural scent immediately.” She reasoned.
“You wouldn’t know of it’s presence. Because it’s you.”
“What?”
“You are an anomaly, you were never meant to be born.. never meant to be bitten… never meant to host Venom. You don’t belong. You need to be contained.”
[Y/Name] froze, Venom inside stilling too as he and herself processed the words that had just fell from her father’s mouth. All was quiet for but a moment—
“You…”
Miguel watched as a dark look overtook her features, from enraged previously to downright hostile as her eyes darkened to an unseen degree. He felt a shiver of fear and intimidation shuck down his back in a brief burst.
“You bastard.”
The snarled words growled from her throat sent another ripple down his spine. And he swallowed thickly as the deep black viscous matter of Venom returned, and then she bore the same appearance as before.
The same lean and muscular frame but now entirely black with a white spider insignia, her mask’s eyes now more monstrous-like as opposed to the regular diamond shape as most spider people.
“Fine.”
[Y/Name] Venom snarled ferociously, Miguel watched as the alien bulked up his daughter. Not so much so that it wasn’t proportionate but enough to have him breathe out a brief exhale of uncertainty and anxiety.
His daughter had become powerful in his absence, and he had caused the black hatred to plague her heart. The fact she only looked at him with hate and a fiery light of murder and bloodthirsty rage was his fault and his fault alone. He had no one to blame but himself.
So, he really had no one to blame for this fight that would occur one way or another. He wasn’t sure he could beat her, and for the first time in a long while he felt a surge of anxiousness brew to life in his stomach. His heartbeat slightly erratic at the new feeling of diminished confidence in his chest.
He knew this would be hard, he knew he was walking into this fight with a significant power difference, and he knew for damn sure he wasn’t certain he’d keep his head. And Miguel had no one to blame for it—
But himself.
a/n: started writing out requests so expect to see those soon but don’t get too excited as I can’t promise when exactly they’ll be finished and posted, my classes are kicking my ass and my job fucking sucks so.. bear with me please and I hope you enjoyed!
Taglist: @violilaqrs @christinesdemoness1958 @erensbbg @nickey-diano @gamersansblog @ayyybee @raweggeater @shrekstoesblog @azzy-ozborn @nda-approval @9kaaulitz @jazjelspen @myconglomerateromance @sweetheartlizzie07 @nyx-does-stuff @krazy-kattzz @sparklyphantom @loser-alert @bath1lda
Sorry if I missed you on the taglist!
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roonilwazlibimagines · 5 months
Text
control freak - t.n x female!reader
Blurb: theo has control issues but his girlfriend doesn't mind
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: this was originally 6k words but i felt like the second part was really intense self indulgence but if people like this i'm happy to fix the second part up and post it as well :))
Masterlist | Part 2
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
If Theodore Nott had his way, people would stop calling him controlling. Okay, maybe there had been times where he had lied and deceived to get his way, and sure, he was quick to rise to temper which often made people just agree with him, but it was just because he always knew what was best. 
He had first said this thought outloud to the pretty girl he had been dating during their seventh year at Hogwarts and after two years of being with him, she felt comfortable enough to scoff at his words. 
“Because you know what’s best?” They had just left Draco Malfoy’s and Theo was driving her home. 
His eyes flickered to hers and back to the road, astounded that she had the audacity to scoff at him. 
“Well, yeah.” The only reason they were having this conversation was because of something stupid Draco had said. 
“You need another drink,” Draco had said as soon as he noticed the girl sitting on Theo’s lap had an empty cup in her hand. 
“Ooh, yes please.”
“No, she doesn’t.” 
She turned to look at her frowning boyfriend and gave him a look to match his. 
“Theo,” she had whined. 
“You’ve already drank enough, if you drink something else, you’ll get sick.” He had sat up to whisper in her ear and there was a piece of her deep down that knew he was right. She was currently happy and drunk and she had drunk that last drink quite fast. Another would probably move her to the next level of drunk that she did not want nor need for a casual get together with friends. 
“I might have one a bit later, Draco, thank you.” Theo slouched back down, happy with the compromise. 
“Merlin, Nott,” Draco scoffed, “you keep her on a tight leash.”
Theo suddenly wasn’t slouching anymore nor was she sitting on his lap. 
“You were happy and drunk, another drink only would have made you feel worse.” 
She took a deep breath and bit her tongue as they came to a red light. It casted a shadow on Theo’s face as he turned to look at her. He kept one hand on the steering wheel but brought the other to give the flesh of the thigh closest to him a squeeze. He left it there as she sighed. 
“I’m not saying you’re wrong, I’m just saying you’re controlling.” 
His gaze wasn’t harsh, but it still let her know that he wasn’t happy with her response. 
She did her best to change her face in a way that would please the boy who had a small tick in his jaw. She widened her eyes and wet her lips, sinking into her seat slightly and glancing at the large hand still sprawled over the top of her thigh. 
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
That made his gaze soften. 
It was true. 
She had been in the same house as Theo for seven years when she first started dating him and had been in the same circle for the same time. 
She had seen him yell at first years to get out of their spot, she had seen him lead all of their group projects and she had seen him get angry with new people on the Quidditch team because they couldn’t understand his new formation. 
But she had only really realised this in their sixth year during the Sytherin’s annual end of year celebration. There was a bottle of firewhiskey and a deck of cards that Theo was currently dealing. 
She had known amost since their first day that Theodore Nott was attractive, but it wasn’t until a couple of months ago that she had decided that she was going to do something about it. And doing her best to make sure she was in his line of site at all times, she had somehow ended up next to him in the circle, trying to keep up with the rules he was currently explaining to her. 
“-and if you don’t, you drink. Does that make sense?” She was nodding even though she was still caught up on the first rule he had started with. 
He had finished dealing and was looking down at her in a way that told her he knew she was lying. 
She didn’t mind. 
Nor did she mind when he said, “how about I help you for the first round?” 
And she wasn’t surprised either when it was her second turn and she had been staring at her cards for less than thirty seconds before he grabbed them out of her hands and said, “here, let me have a look.” 
It reminded her of how he’d grab the parchment out of anyone’s hands whenever he didn’t trust them to write in enough detail for their group tasks. 
“Play this one,” he had said, already throwing down her card before he handed her deal back to her. 
She didn’t really mind this. She still chose to date him halfway through their last year and it wasn’t until the next year’s celebration that she came to the realisation that she even kinda liked it. 
She was sitting in his lap and he had a cigarette in his mouth. He tried to blow it away from her but sometimes it would waft back and she would try to stop her nose from scrunching up. Their relationship was still too new for that. 
She blamed the red plastic cup in her hand for the reason she asked, “Can I have a go?”
Theodore had been laughing at something Blaise said, but in the second he had turned down to look at her, Blaise had turned to Pansy and she took his opportunity to nod at the cigarette in the hand that wasn’t gripping her waist. 
The chucke lines on his pretty face smoothed out and he let his hand drop as he immediately said, “No.” 
She pouted at him. 
“Why not?” She was giggling and she wasn’t entirely sure why, it did nothing to change the harsh angles of his jawline nor the serious look she was now on the receiving end of. 
“They’re not good for you.” 
“You do it.” 
“That’s different.” 
She giggled again, giving him a faux confused look at his contradiction. 
“Please,” she whined. She really had no desire to smoke said cigarette, she just wanted to see where this would go. 
“No,” he said, “end of discussion.” 
There was a fluttering in her tummy and Theodore wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but he didn’t miss the way her body gave a slight twitch at his words. 
And in his defence, after seeing that boy with a cigarette in his hand almost everyday for the last couple of years, she could count the times she had seen smoke blow from his pretty mouth on one hand since that incident even if his clothes stil smet like smoke. 
But it wasn’t until that night that they had spoken about it. And it was hard to tell whether that small confession in Theo’s car had changed the amount of control he usually used over her. 
As shown by the events that had led up to that conversation, Theo had always kept her on a tight leash at parties. 
“I just care about you, s’all,” he’d shrug when she gave him a pout everytime he cut off her drinking. 
“Come straight back though,” he’d instruct when she’d get up from her designated seat (his lap) and go with Pansy to the bathroom. 
“Stay where I can see you,” he’d whisper when she went to go join Pansy on the dance floor. 
And he was even worse when he wasn’t at said party. 
It had been three years since they started dating, over a year since the conversation in his car and a few of her friends from her work had convinced her to join them in testing the new club that had opened in Diagon Alley. 
When she came out in a tight back dress that rested just below the flesh of her bum, she didn’t even react when she saw the muscle jump in her boyfriends jaw. He had come over to hers to annoy her while she was getting ready. 
“I’m not annoying,” he had scowled when she said this to him. 
He was driving her in and he only came early so he could make sure he knew exactly what the night would entail. 
“You don’t like it?” He was sitting on her bed and she made her way over to him, nudging his knees with her own so she could stand in between his legs. His hands rested happily on her hips, rubbing the fabric of her dress he wished wasn’t covering her pretty skin. 
When she let out a playful giggle he tore his hands away, only to bring them back to make a loud slapping noise as he brought them down on the flesh of her bum. She squealed as he continued to give it a tight squeeze making her body draw closer to his. 
“You know I love this dress,” he whispered over her small gigges, “and I don’t care when I’m there, people know not to mess with me.” She wanted to roll her eyes at his corny words, but refrained knowing she was already pushing his buttons by wanting to wear this dress. “But I won’t be there tonight, baby.”
His voice was soft and she was letting herself melt into his touch. His hands were now rubbing the fabric covering the flesh he had tortured and she was feeling content. 
Which was why she was sure she had gotten whiplash when he said, “So go change.” 
He was using the same tone he had used when he told her that he wasn’t going to let her smoke. She could almost hear him say, ‘end of discussion.’
She turned her head to look at him, her mouth slightly agape in shock at the change in her boyfriend but he kept his gaze firm and she was quite dumbfounded at what had just happened so she kissed the top of his head and moved herself out of his embrace to go change. 
She hadn’t thought too much about what she was wearing. She had only been out without Theo a handful of times and she had never had to worry about what she wore, only ever choosing what she felt best in at that moment in time. 
She came out in another black dress, but this time it was longer. 
“How’s this?” She had asked when she came out to show Theo again. 
“Better.” He stood up this time to walk over to her. 
When he was standing in front of her he placed the palm of his hands under her jaw, his thumbs resting on her cheeks. His palms were soft and warm and she let her head sink into his touch. 
“If anyone bothers you, you know I’ll be there straight away.”
“I know,” she said, going on her tippy toes to place a gentle kiss on his lips. And she was truly grateful for that. 
In the car, Theo continued. 
“Message me as soon you’re ready, I’ll be there straight away. Cover your drink. If you feel even sightly off, just let me know. Trust your intuition. If you go anywhere else, let me know as well. And if anyone-”
“Gives me trouble I’ll let you know.” They were parked outside the club, but the car was still on. Theo turned his head to raise a questioning eyebrow at her. 
“Don’t be a brat.” 
“I’m sorry,” she sighed, “I know you’re just looking out for me, I promise I’ll keep you updated the whole night.” 
“Good girl,” he mumbled as she leaned over to kiss him. 
“I love you.” 
“I love you pretty girl, have fun.” And what that, she slammed the door. 
He watched her walk over to her friends and then began his drive back home. 
The whole drive home his mind was full of worry for the pretty girl he had just left barely seconds ago. 
What if something happened to her? Whenever he was there he made sure she could let her guard down and of course, he trusted her and knew she was more than capable, but he couldn’t help himself. 
When he got home he sent her a message. 
‘home x’ 
‘did you get in okay?’
He stared down at the two bubbles that had come from his phone. He tried to get his mind off it. 
He got out a book, but all he was doing was looking at words, he wasn’t comprehending anything. 
Five minutes had passed. 
‘my love’
‘please answer’
He tried to make himself a snack. But he found he wasn’t actuay hungry.
Ten minutes. 
This wasn’t good enough. She needed to answer him. Did she not know that he was going crazy wondering about all the horrible things that could have happened to her?
He pulled out his phone and rang her number. 
She didn’t answer. 
He was seconds away from going there himself. He knew it was crazy, but there was a part of him that wanted to go in with her. Sit at a tabel by himself so she could have her fun and he could still keep an eye on her. But even he thought that might be going to far. Except now he knew that that was what he should have done all along. 
He was twirling his keys in his hand, seconds away from going there himself when her pretty picture filled up his screen. 
“Theo?”His heart started beating again when he heard her voice.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, we were just on the dancefloor. I’m sorry.” And he could just imagine the sheepish look that was overtaking her pretty face. 
“It’s okay my love, please just keep your phone on you, yeah?” 
“Ok Theo,” she said, “I will, I promise. I love you.” 
“I love you my girl.” 
He waited until she hung up the phone and put his keys back down. 
Now that he knew she was okay, he feared he may have been a bit dramatic. But he coudn’t help it. 
He was sure that it had come from his father. His father who was quick to temper and was aways the leader in his group of friends. It wasn’t a trait he was proud of, but the pretty girl he called his girlfriend claimed not to mind and he had to trust her on that. 
It was later that night that the discussion had been brought up once more since that night in his car after Draco’s party. 
Theo had picked her up and she was tipsy in his bathroom taking her makeup off with the makeup wipes he had bought for her after a night out when she didn’t have anything to take her make up off and had whined the whole night. 
“Be quiet, I’lll buy you some tomorrow.” He had grumbled when they were in bed and all he wanted to do was sleep after hearing her moan and groan for the last forty-five minutes. 
“My friends thought it was weird when you rang me.” He wasn’t sure she really knew what she was saying, but her words still made him sit up in his bed where he was waiting for her to join. 
“What do you mean?” Her eyes were closed as she stumbled back into the bathroom to put the wipes away. Theo had already dressed her in her pyjamas and he watched her stumble back to the bed to join him. 
As she pulled the blanket up she giggled out, “They think it’s controlling.” 
“What did you say?” He asked, turning to his side and putting his weight on his elbow so he was looking down at the pretty girl with her head on the pillow. 
“I said,” her eyes were closed and she finally opened them to meet his, “you have no idea.” 
Theo frowned and before he could move to turn the other way, her hand shot up and grabbed his jaw. 
“You know I love it.”
522 notes · View notes
cultofdixon · 5 months
Text
Stress is a silent killer
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Don’t get me wrong, mothers are strong motherfuckers. But that doesn’t mean you can abuse an expecting mother’s abilities. • ANGST/SFW • TW: Pregnancy / Pre-Term Labor Anxieties / Anxiety
Requested by: Anon
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Daryl silently returns his home he shares with Y/N who was currently seated in the living room wide awake. She was decked out to go outside the walls and search for him after the news but thankfully he came back in time before she risked herself at the hour it was.
“I’m sorry”
Y/N didn’t say anything, all she did was let the tears that build up roll off her cheeks.
“I’m sorry I walked away when yea first told me” His voice broke as he brought himself to kneel in front of her resting his hands on her thighs watching her tearful expression meet his gaze.
“I’m scared, Dar…”
“I know, me too. Cuz I want this. I want this with yea and I’m afraid of losing you…like Lori…or like…the others. I can’t lose yea to anythin’ or anyone.”
“You can’t…you can’t walk out like the way you did” She choked out through her sobbing as Daryl brought his hands onto her cheeks wiping away them while they fell. “Please…if you do that again, I’m only going to think the worse possible things”
“I’m stayin’ right here, sunshine. I’m never leaving again.” Daryl pushed himself forward and wrapping his arms around her as she did the same gripping onto his vest. “I’m never leaving you and this baby, I promise”
~
7 1/2 months later…
Another cold spring morning comes through causing the somewhat irritable not-a-morning person Y/N to bring herself to sit up the best she could given her “natural” circumference was different compared to the first and second trimester.
“Did you leave the window open?” She tiredly asks her husband who had sat up when she did, given the closer they get to 9 months the more he’ll be up and at it for anything.
“It was stuffy last night, yea asked me too” Daryl yawns stretching out his back hearing his partner hiss when she heard the occasional stretch out crack. “I’m good”
“Working on the wall repair does you no good…and I think I just forgot I asked you to open it” Y/N frowns bringing herself to the edge of the bed causing Daryl to get up in his shirtless glory about to close the window. “What are you doing?”
“I told yea you don’t have to get up and close it”
“I gotta get up and pee cuz a certain someone is stepping on my bladder.”
“So is that a no on me closing it for yea, love?”
“Can you please close it and help me stand up?” Y/N gave him a tired smile as he did exactly what was asked and while Daryl helped her up she couldn’t help but grab his face to bring him to her level to kiss him before separating to do what she needed.
“Are you sure you don’t need me or want me this morning? Rick completely understands why I can stay here” Daryl started to remind Y/N about the run he was asked to go on that involved stopping at the Hilltop to drop off supplies and go pick up more from the Kingdom.
“You pawned it off to somebody for the past two weeks. I’m not going to go into labor the second you leave. I’m not 8 months yet”
“Pre-term shit. You were put on bedrest during the second tri—whatever it’s called because your stress wasn’t helpin’” Daryl states slipping off his sweats to put jeans on when Y/N stepped out of the bathroom. “It’s easy for yea to stress out and back in the prison you passed out once cuz of it. Now you’re pregnant and Siddiq said it could cause more harm than good”
“Are you trying to stress me out now?”
“No, I’m just telling—-“
“It’s only for half the day. Both Maggie and Ezekiel know who you have to come back home to, they won’t hold you up and we also know Carol will shut Ezekiel up if he does start another endless conversation with you. You’ll be back before nightfall and I’ll be here waiting for my husband to come back”
The archer only gave her a worried expression because of how calm she was being, since a month ago she’d scream at him for just leaving the house. He brought himself over kissing her lovingly and holding her for as long as she let him, which could be hours and he’ll not be able to go anymore. But Y/N knew this trick.
“You seriously walking me out to make sure I actually go?” Daryl smiles walking his bike with his pregnant wife on the other side of such still wearing her sweats and one of his shirts.
“Did you forget about the morning and evening walks we do?”
“Nah I did not. Which reminds me to tell yea to wait for me for the night one. Take it easy walking back home and stay away from the new infusions”
Y/N whistled for Daryl to stop given she can’t maneuver fast enough to grab his arm. “Stay away from the new infusions?”
“Rick let in more ex-saviors to help around here. They are staying in the apartment looking houses” Daryl parked his bike a moment bringing himself to rest his hands on her belly. “Two of them are annoying shit stains of humanity. I don’t know the other one’s name but one of’em is Bryan and they’d much rather pawn their work off to somebody else”
“Daryl. I doubt they’d make a pregnant woman do shit”
“Well. I told Aaron to check on yea if he sees you doing anything sketchy”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. Rick is at Oceanside, Michonne is watching a sick Judith, and the others are working on the bridge repair. You won’t let me stay to make sure you don’t over exert yourself. Somebody’s gotta check on yea and since he’s takin’ care of a baby girl at the moment? He’s more than happy to check up on you when Gracie is napping”
“You really have everything planned. Even have a radio?” Y/N smiles crossing her arms as he took out said device to show her resulting in a playful eye roll. “I’ll do my best, my love. But I’ve never seen those individuals before…you can’t blame me if something happened”
“Yeah, but I sure as hell can kill a man if he harms my wife and baby” Daryl states, sneaking in a kiss before getting his bike back up and heading toward the gates.
“I promise nothing will happen, Dar”
What was meant to be an easy day, turned into a weird one.
When the gates closed, Y/N held her belly for a moment feeling the shifting baby inside her make it a bit difficult to go immediately back to her home. She decided to take a longer walk around Alexandria, stopping occasionally to talk to her friends and see what they were up to improve their community. Then on her way back there were two Alexandrians carrying a few boxes to the pantry and infirmary. Both looked at her with curious expressions…
“Yo!”
Y/N ignored it at first until she flinched to the sound of the box dropping beside her.
“You’re Y/N right? The other Dixon in this place”
“Yes…? And you are?” She frowns, not liking the feeling the atmosphere gave when the individual didn’t share his name right away.
“I’m new here. Do you mind helping us with something?”
“Uhm I’m not exactly supposed to be…lifting anything heavy” Y/N gestures a bit on the obvious side about her pregnant belly as they both still gave stone cold stares.
“We’ll carry it to the pantry and infirmary. Just could use somebody to put it away while we bring the rest”
“Is Siddiq not her—-“
“Seriously, Dixon. You’re just pregnant not incompetent” one of them stated only for Y/N’s expression to go south as she supported her belly telling them that she’ll meet them in the pantry first to unload the boxes.
Once she stepped far enough, one of them couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips.
“Cant believe that worked”
“Can it Bryan. We still gotta bring the boxes over then we can go fuck off for the rest of the day” The other scoffs picking up and the box carrying it to where it needed to be.
It had been a couple hours of putting supplies away in their perspective areas, thankfully Y/N has worked with Siddiq before so she knows where he likes everything to be. The doctor just didn’t expect to come back from checking on the little ones of Alexandria after lunch time to find Y/N standing on a stool putting away spare gauze in a tub that Siddiq put them in.
“Are you crazy?” Siddiq frowns watching Y/N stumble a bit unexpected as he quickly drop his medical bag to help his friend off the stool. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you in here?”
“Because I have to be useful!”
“Y/N what the hell do you mean?!” Siddiq frowns watching the discomfort grow on her face along with the tears forming. “Okay, come on. Sit down and tell me what happened” he made her sit on the gurney sitting with her.
“My husband—-“
“Did Daryl get hurt?!”
“No! He warned me about some slackers and I just. I didn’t think I was this stupid enough to fall for their shit” Y/N frowns wiping away her tears before wincing and holding her belly instantly. Siddiq pulled away to get the portable machine helping her lay down onto the gurney adjusting it for her to sit up. “It was just one damn conversation and I felt like I was being useless. We won that stupid fucking war. Lost a lot of people. Then this happened and it’s the best thing but all my hormones are all over the place—-“
“And that’s normal! It’s normal for hormones to take over control with all your other emotions.” Siddiq carefully rolled her shirt up to apply a bit of the gel and gently place the wand to check on the heartbeat. “Can you tell me your pain level? And I’m talking from the moment you’ve felt uncomfortable”
“A six…”
“Are you lying?” Siddiq stated watching the tears build up more. “Y/N how long have you been working today?”
“About an hour after Daryl left”
The look on Siddiq’s face only grew even more worried for his friend as he cleaned her up and before she even tried to get up, he carefully helped her back down grabbing a blanket to cover her.
“Siddiq—-“
“You’re having contractions and I don’t want you to force this baby out from your stress because it’s too early and while I think we can…handle that intense situation…I don’t want you to lose this baby if it goes south.” Siddiq frowns covering her more in the blanket and putting the gurney in the trendelenburg position to have gravity help slow the contractions. Before he pulled away to grab a few things that will help, Y/N grabbed his arm. “You stay here and I’ll get someone to radio Daryl to come back a bit early”
“You think he’ll…uh…y-you think he’ll be mad at me?” Her voice broke as Siddiq took her hand into both of his shaking his head.
“No. But when he finds out about who made you overwork, they aren’t going to see the next day”
By the time Siddiq got Daryl on the line, he was already making his way back to Alexandria and when he heard about his wife he was speeding even faster. Daryl parked in front of the infirmary, dropping his bike without another thought as he enters the building bringing himself to her side resting his hand on her belly.
“How are yea feeling?”
“I’m sorry—-“
“Love, please—-“
“I’m really sorry” Y/N broke down in a sob making her husband out of instinct gently wipe away her tears. “I’m really sorry I didn’t take it easy—“
“Y/N. I’m serious when I say this. You don’t have to apologize.” Daryl frowns rubbing circles on her belly watching her bring her hand over his. “Did Siddiq tell yea how long you’d have to be—-“
“She can go back down.” Siddiq interrupts the two coming down from his flat above the infirmary with a filled canteen for Y/N. “You can take her back to your home to be more comfortable in her bed but again, bed rest—-“
“Fuck” Y/N sobbed hating it already and she’s not in her own bed.
“Just for a week until your stress levels and blood pressure go down. Thankfully trendelenburg worked with the contractions but don’t want you, again, to overwork yourself” Siddiq set the canteen down to help Daryl get Y/N on her feet before giving her the filled bottle. “Don’t let her leave the house, then maybe nobody would abuse your hormones” he stated letting them be to finish what Y/N started before he made her rest.
After getting Y/N back home and in their bed, Daryl stuck by her side thinking of the words Siddiq had said before they left. But he wasn’t going to address it when she was still experiencing a bit of discomfort.
“You want another pillow?”
“Then what are you going to sleep on?”
“A mattress? I don’t need a pillow, just need my woman comfortable while she’s a human incubator” He jokes getting a short lived laugh out of her as he moves the extra blankets and his pillows to support her back and belly. When she first started getting uncomfortable, he tried looking for one of those pregnancy pillows that Carol had told him about but it was a lot of work and he didn’t want to leave her at all. Like he promised and is semi-regretting given he left to take care of business and some assholes were pushing her limits with emotional abuse.
“Daryl…?” Y/N tiredly calls out for him as he returns with her canteen filled for a fourth time since being home as he brought himself to sit on the edge of the bed setting her bottle on the nightstand.
“Yes, sunshine?”
“You still love me right…?” Y/N pouted only for Daryl to scoff at such a ridiculous question, leaning over to shower her in kisses making her bring her arms around his neck to keep him close for the moment. “Dar…”
“I’ll always love you. Even when yea risk yourself. But, imma stick by yea for the rest of this.” Daryl states. “No more tellin’ me I gotta go cuz I promised somebody. Someone else will get the work done, doesn’t have to be me and definitely doesn’t have to be you”
“Can you hold me tonight?”
“As long as you don’t kick me out of the bed when it got too hot” he laughs softly, bringing his lips to hers for a few short soft kisses before pulling away to get into comfortable clothing to sleep in and hold her.
The second Y/N fell asleep and was in deep enough sleep for the archer to slip away to check on a familiar hiding spot in Alexandria. Said hiding spot would have those who didn’t want others to notice they were smoking. Knowing damn well he’ll find the right men that have been bothering his partner.
“Ayo the other Dixon has retur—-“ Bryan immediately shut up when Daryl grabbed him by the collar forcing him against the walls of the community.
“You talk to my wife today? Mess with her and had your buddy over here help?”
“Dude I have no idea—-“
“Don’t lie. Don’t even try, or I will fucking end you right here and now” Daryl hissed shoving him harshly against the wall letting go of his shirt. He quickly turned to his buddy who put out his cigarette before holding his hands up defensively. “If I see you and or this son of a bitch near my wife or even hear about it, I’ll feed you both to the walkers after I’ve knocked the living shit out of you both. And don’t yea worry…I’ve got friends to let me know if yea fuck with the love of my life and soon to be mother of my child” and with that he took his leave letting the two regret their decisions and contemplate being moved to a different community to avoid the harsher Dixon. But even then, he’d tear them apart anywhere.
Y/N shifted slightly when the bed moved behind her, she relaxed instantly feeling her husband bring his arm around her pulling her into him.
“Where’d you go?”
“Got yea more water, and heard somethin’ outside”
“Another possum?”
“A pest that’s for sure”
“Mmm…” Y/N snuggles into his embrace getting comfortable as Daryl kissed her temple. “Nothing you can’t handle right?”
Right.
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souliebird · 8 months
Text
[[and then I met you || ch. 7]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary:
A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.
pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6
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When you escaped your parents’ house and moved into the city for college, you already knew the basics of cooking. Since you had turned fourteen, it had been your responsibility to feed yourself. 'You are old enough to figure it out' was what your parents had told you. Living in the dorms didn't give you much opportunity to cook and when you finally had your own kitchen to really play around in, you didn't have the money to afford a full pantry. It was hard, but it never deterred you and you learned a couple of good recipes.
When Minnie came along and you were able to figure out her likes and dislikes, you made a few changes - you could finally afford to get all organic produce and bread not made from ninety percent sawdust and you started cooking even more because your little one didn't like things from a can. 
And despite what the experts and people online say, you give in to every one of Minnie's food whims. You don't want to force her to eat things she doesn't like. Your parents never listened to you, even if the food made you sick - you ate what was given to you or not at all. You are not going to do that to her and the rules you have come up with are she at least has to try something. If she doesn't like it, she doesn't need to eat it, and the past few months she's been pretty good at telling you why she doesn't like something. You don't always understand her reasoning, but you accept and tell her that she can try it again when she's bigger. 
Her favorite thing that you make is lasagna. You make it from scratch and she usually loves to help you and will spend all day excited for ooey-gooey cheese.
Usually.  
Today is not a usual day. Today your daughter is an upset little banshee. As soon as she woke up, she was in a bad mood. She didn't want to be touched at all and getting her dressed was a nightmare. Lots of 'no's and crying about how all her clothes were itchy until you finally allowed her to just wear her swimsuit. It was the only thing you could get her to stay in. You didn't even try with her hair, running your fingers through it to get out some knots, but that only lasted a full five seconds before she was running away from you.
You are trying to be patient with her - you know that something must be upsetting her, whether it be waking up on the wrong side of the bed or she's starting to get a cold and not feeling well. She doesn't know how to express herself beyond crying and you don't blame her. You want to cry when you don't feel well. 
That doesn't mean it isn't stressful for you. The back of your skull is throbbing from her screams and your own mood is sour because you don't know how to help. Hearing her so upset breaks your heart. 
Matt is supposed to come by, thus the homemade dinner, but part of you wonders if you should cancel. Minnie isn't going to calm down anytime soon and you would feel bad having him come over just to witness a tantrum. On the other hand, tantrums are a part of having a child. 
You decide to leave it up to him and send him a text letting him know Minnie is having a bad day. He quickly responds he still wants to come, so you return to working on your tomato sauce as quietly as you can.
Mouse has hidden herself under a throw blanket with her tablet and her plushies on the couch. You don't worry about her doing anything she shouldn't be - the tablet is child locked to hell and back - but it is a little hard to tell what she is doing since she's muted the tablet. There is an eerie purple glow coming from under the blanket, so you can guess she's playing one of her games. You've found a few that don't require sound that she enjoys - a few dress up games and matching things. 
Occasionally you hear her sniffle or mumble but she doesn't call for you, so you let her be. She didn't really nap today, so you're trying to avoid another meltdown. You are hoping when you remind her Matt is coming, it will help her mood. You're a little jealous he is obviously her new favorite person, but also you are so happy for it. 
Your original idea of taking things slow has been adjusted based on her reaction. You wanted to start talking to her about family today and build her up to the idea of having a dad, then have Matt over so she starts that association. That obviously is not going to happen. 
You finish up your prep and start to assemble the lasagna, laying sheets of pasta down before adding sauce and cheese then repeating the process until the pan is full. You made a little extra, with the intention of sending Matt home with leftovers. He had mentioned in passing that he doesn't get to cook much and living off take out is not ideal. 
The baking pan gets put into the oven and the timer is set, then you aren't sure what to do with yourself. It will take about an hour and Matt is scheduled to arrive then. 
You could do some cleaning, but with how Minnie is, you don't want to set her off. You know when she gets like this, any little thing can trigger her, so the best you can come up with is scrolling your phone. 
Still, you want to be with your baby, so you make your way to the couch. You keep your voice just above a whisper, knowing she's been itching at her ears all day, "Mouse, can I sit with you on the couch?"
You know she heard you based on the way the blanket moves. It takes a moment before you hear a tiny 'okay'.
You tuck yourself into the opposite corner and take out your phone to bring up something to look at. As soon as you start scrolling your feed, the glowing blanket mound starts moving towards you and you are easily overtaken by it. Minnie gets herself into your lap, still hidden away, then flops against your chest. You can feel her tablet against your thigh and you're pretty sure Scooby is jammed into your stomach, but as long as she's good, you're good. 
You keep an eye on the time as you flick through your phone. A majority of the news sites you follow are filling your feed with stories about the explosion in Connecticut. An uneasiness fills your stomach when you see the word 'attack' being thrown around. The headlines say they have determined the destruction was intentional and not an accident, though no one has claimed responsibility. Tony Stark gave some sort of press conference, so his face is all over your phone. 
You don't need this today, so you switch over to browsing some online shops. Minnie is getting too big for her winter coat, so you definitely need to get her one before the weather changes and prices go up. You'll have to get her approval before you make a final purchase, but it's good to check what is in the market. 
About twenty minutes before you are due to take the lasagna out of the oven, Matt texts you to let you know he is on his way. You confirm that you got his message, then gently run a hand over the mound in your lap, "Hey, sweetie. Dinner is almost ready. Do you remember what I said about dinner tonight?"
The blanket gets tugged and moved until Minnie can poke just the top of her head out. She squints at you, like she is judging you, before mumbling out, "Mister Matt is coming?"
You give her a soft smile, trying to comfort her in any way you can, "That's right, baby, Mister Matt is going to come over and have dinner with us."
She squirms in your lap, before flopping herself forward again and declaring, "I want juice."
"Okay, sweetie." 
You manage to gather her, her blanket, her tablet, and some plushies into your arms and get Minnie on your hip to carry her to the kitchen. You're an expert at doing things one handed and it only takes you a minute to make up a sippy cup. Once that is in her little hands, you deposit her into her seat at the dining table. You let her keep her blanket and toys, setting up Scooby and Pig so they are in the seat next to her and her tablet is on the table in front of her. 
She is indeed playing a dress up game and as she nurses her juice, she looks at each dress option for the character she's dressing. As she does that, you start to set the table around her. You can tell that despite the cuddles and quiet, your Mouse is still in a grumpy mood. You really, really hope that Matt will help her smile a little. 
Once everything is set, you check on the lasagna. It smells and looks delicious to you, and you take the sheet tray out a little early so it can start to cool. That gets Minnie's attention, and you can see her watching you out of the corner of your eye. She's stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking on them as her eyes follow you around the kitchen.
You are so busy watching Mouse watch you, you don't keep track of the time and when there is a soft knock at the front door, you jump. 
You scurry to answer, putting your hand over your heart and telling yourself to chill out. You know who it is and why they are here, and you don't need to panic over it. It's just Matt, you tell yourself.
It's just Matt. 
You open the door and your breath catches. 
It is just Matt, but Matt is Matt, and he makes your heart pound in a different way. 
He's come right from work, so he's in one of his crisp, fitted suits. His hair is fluffed up, like he's run his fingers through it too many times, and he's got that permanent five o'clock shadow. He looks like some GQ model, standing in your doorway. 
Embarrassment runs through you. You're not nearly as dressed up as he is. Even on his casual days, he looks so fashionable and cool, and you are wearing biker shorts and a black T-shirt. You look by no means raggedy, but maybe you should have changed. Just because Matt can't see what you are wearing doesn't mean you can be a slob. 
"Hi," you eventually choke out and Matt's face lights up. 
"Hey there," he says back, then he's holding up a bottle of wine and smiling so sweetly, "I thought I'd try contributing this time and I figured you might need a glass." 
You can't help but flush. Today has been rather long and a glass of wine sounds amazing. You don't drink often, but he is right and a glass to unwind sounds perfect. 
"You're a saint," you praise, and step aside so he can come in. "How was your day? Oh, you can put your jacket and bag to your left. There's hooks about chest level." 
Matt thanks you, then reaches out to feel the wall. He finds the hooks quickly, then hangs his saddle bag before starting to remove his coat, "it was good. We were able to wrap up a few smaller cases - sometimes it just takes someone getting a lawyer for others to cave and do the right thing. Cheaper to just do the right thing than get sued and having to do it anyways, plus all the pay outs and fees."
"That is good," you hum, very much meaning it. You're glad those people got the help they needed. "You mentioned having a handful of cases, so that frees up your plate a little bit, right?"
Matt laughs a little, smile still wide, "A little bit. It's a nice change of things - we aren't hurting for paying clients, so we are going to try to take on a few more pro-bono things. We're getting into a nice groove - or so Foggy claims. He's leading that charge - making sure we aren't over working ourselves."
"I'll have to send him a thank you card," you tease, surprising yourself with it. 
"He'd like that, he'd get to lord it over me," he replies. Then he turns to you and steps forward, reaching out and finding your arm. He ghosts his fingers up until he oh-so-gently wraps them around your bicep and steps forward until you're a breath away from each other and you have to look down at his chest, so you are not staring at your own reflection in his glasses. His voice drops to something quiet and intimate, and you can barely hear him through the pounding of your heart in your ears.
"I told them. About you. About Minnie."
You find yourself smiling at the news. That makes it more real, doesn't it? It isn't just the courts acknowledging Matt is Minnie's father - it's the real world. It's Matt wanting her - wanting to show the world he wants his daughter. 
That's all you want. 
You step just a fraction closer, and to keep your balance and let Matt know how close you are, you place your hand in Matt's chest. Almost instantly, his free hand goes to your waist, and you feel steady. 
You bite your bottom lip, then ask, your curiosity so much bigger than your ability to keep your mouth shut, "What did they say?"
He huffs and lightly shakes his head, "After yelling at me for keeping it a secret? They want to meet you, properly. If that is okay. I told them I'd ask you before confirming anything." He hums, then drops his voice even more, "Karen got me magnets so I could hang all the work I got up on my fridge at home." 
"You're going to need a lot of them," you whisper back to him. "I ordered popsicle sticks and puff balls so she can make 3D things." 
"I can't wait. Karen got me a bulk pack of magnets."
You giggle at that, but before you can reply, a needy little voice calls out from the dining table, "Mommy!"
You pull away from Matt, his fingers tracing down from your bicep to your wrist before he drops his hand, and turn to walk towards your daughter, "Yes, Mouse?"
"I'm hungry!" 
She's poked her head out from under the blanket and is now wearing it like a cape and her chubby little cheeks are pulled down into an upset frown. You have a feeling a tantrum may be close - there's nothing worse than a hangry toddler. 
You take a breath, then smile at your daughter, "Okay. Mister Matt is here so we can have dinner now. Do you want to tell him what we are having?"
Matt taps his way into the main living space, and you know you should give him a quick tour, but you think if you delay dinner at all, Minnie is going to start crying, so you tell him instead where the table is. 
Minnie doesn't seem to want to engage, stuffing her fingers back into her mouth. Luckily, Matt isn't dissuaded by that. He sets the wine bottle down before taking the seat across from Minnie. 
"It smells like we're going to have lasagna for dinner. Is that what we are having?" he asks, voice soft and gentle. 
Your little one rocks side to side, keeping her fingers in her mouth before nodding. Normally, you would remind her to use her words, but you don't want to push, so you relay her message to Matt, "She nodded."
Matt hums softly in response. He tilts his head slightly, brows knitting together, before leaning forward just a fraction, "Do you want us to leave you alone until you eat?"
You are surprised by the question then even more surprised when he gets the tiniest, 'yes' in reply. Matt's face softens at that, and he nods to Minnie.
"Okay. Can I still talk to your Mommy, or do you want us to be quiet, too?"
You stand, dish towel in your hands, ready to bring the lasagna to the table, watching your daughter interact with her father. He's being so gentle and understanding with her and you can tell he's being genuine. You can hear the care in his words, how he's giving her choice and not pushing her to talk to him. 
You'll gladly eat dinner in silence if Minnie doesn't want either of you to talk. You don't know how it will work, but you'll try. 
Your little one doesn't answer the question right away. She looks between you and Matt, before pulling her fingers out of her mouth to speak, "You can talk to Mommy."
"Thank you, sweetheart. We'll be quiet, okay?" Matt promises. 
You quickly parrot him, giving your own soft smile, "Thank you, baby. We'll keep it down." 
Minnie snuggles herself tighter into her blanket and you take that as a sign to get yourself into gear. You carefully pick up the lasagna pan and bring it over to the table, setting it as far as possible away from your little one. 
Matt tilts his head towards you, and the food, "That smells delicious. Did you make it yourself?"
You go back to the kitchen to get your serving utensils and answer in the softest voice you can muster that isn't whispering, "Thank you, I did. I found an all organic, from scratch recipe online and have been using it ever since. It's even fancy, way too expensive, cheese. I, uh, made extra. For you to take home, if you want."
Matt licks his lips, and you can tell he's trying to hold back a big smile. It makes your insides turn in a funny way - his kindness and appreciation. You are, as sad as it is, not used to such treatment and for whatever reason that, combined with Minnie's attitude, and Matt being in your apartment for the first time kick starts your anxiety. You are definitely very aware of your heartbeat, and it feels like someone dipped your heart into ice water before it disappears into a hollowness. 
This feeling isn't new to you, so you try to push past it, not let your sudden panic ruin things, because despite your little one's sourness, things are okay. You tell yourself things are okay. 
Your tiny bout of distress goes unnoticed, as it lasts the blink of an eye. Matt leans back in his chair, letting his smile start to crack through, "You didn't have to do that, but I will definitely take you up on it. I can't turn away a home cooked meal."
You force yourself to smile and cut out a slice of lasagna for Matt, before leaning over to place it on his plate, "Guests first."
"Thank you," Matt practically cooes, "I don't think I've been this excited for a dinner in a long time."
The praise does all sorts of things to you, so instead you focus on cutting out a little slice for Minnie and serving it to her. As soon as the food is in front of her, she stabs her fork into it and shovels a piece into her pouty mouth. You don't blame her at all.
"Would you like a glass of wine…?" You ask Matt. Minnie has her sippy juice, but you haven't set out any other drinks. 
He gives you a soft, "Yes, please," and you go to get the two wine glasses you have and a cork screw. You bring them back to the table and set down the glasses before going to open the wine. You haven't done it in such a long time it takes you a minute of struggling to pop it.  Matt turns his head towards you, a little grin on his face until you start pouring. 
You give Matt his drink, then finally make your own plate before sitting beside Matt. Minnie is still angrily stabbing at her dinner and you feel so bad for her. Even with her favorite dinner and good company, she's not having it. You expect when you put her down, either she'll try to fight you or be asleep the moment she touches the covers. You very much hope for the latter. 
Matt, on the other hand, looks completely enthralled with his plate. You can tell his eyes are closed and he's clearly enjoying what he's eating. 
You don't press for conversation - instead reaching for your wine. It's a deep red and delicious on your tongue and you can't remember the last time you've had a good wine. You can feel your shoulders starting to loosen. 
Which of course means, everything needs to come crashing down. 
One moment everything is okay, then the next, Minnie is absolutely screeching. Her face is screwed up in pain and you scramble to get out of your chair to get to her.
"Minnie! What's wrong?!" You try to ask her over her wailing. 
Instead of any sort of answer, she grabs for her fork, which is stabbed into her food, and throws it as hard as she can. You watch in horror as the fork and a large chunk of lasagna still attached to it flies over the table and smacks right into Matt's chest. Panic surges through you as he also bends forward and covers his ears with a distressed face, ignoring the food staining his shirt.
You try to grab Minnie from her booster, but she does not want it and instantly starts to try and fight you, flinging her arms and legs everywhere. 
"Minnie, please," you beg as she kicks you in the hip, "What's wrong, baby?!"
The only reply you get is upset screaming. 
"Cover her ears!" 
Matt is very suddenly beside you and clapping his hands over your baby's ears. She fights it, squirming to get away and smacking at his arms with all her might, but he doesn't budge. You stare, not understanding what is going on, what set her off, and you don't know how to help. 
You don't know how to help and that sinking feeling in your chest is returning and you're scared. 
Matt says your name again, then almost barks at you, "Her headphones! Get her headphones, the strongest ones!" 
You don't understand why but it's something you can help with, something you can do, and you rush to the bedroom and grab her sleeping headband. Minnie has always told you this one works the best, despite the reviews of the others. You run back to the dining area and nearly stumble upon what you see.
Matt has somehow gotten Minnie out of her booster seat and into his arms, and she is octopus clinging to him. Her face is pressed into his neck, one ear on his shoulder, while he keeps his hand clamped over the other. He's lightly bouncing her in his arm as she cries against him and part of you becomes extremely distressed at seeing someone else comfort your child. 
You push that away quickly to hurry forward and hold up the headband, "I've got it." 
Matt nods, then turns his focus back to Minnie. He noses her hair, and you can just barely hear him over her, "It's okay, baby, Mommy has your headband. We're gonna make it quiet. I know it hurts, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."
You hesitate before stepping towards them. Minnie doesn't flail or pull away as you maneuver the headband and get it over both her ears. It feels so awkward to do as she cries and once it is on her head and over her ears, she reaches up and yanks on it until it is in place. Then she flops back down into the crook of Matt's neck, still crying but somehow not as urgently. 
You are unsure of what to do, but everything in you screams to touch your child, so you shuffle close to Matt until you can put a comforting hand on her back. 
"I'm right here, baby, it's okay," you whisper, gently rubbing a small circle along her spine. 
Matt shifts slightly, and the hand that was covering Minnie's ear drops and he instead wraps it around your waist and pulls you closer, so you are flush against him, with Minnie between the two of you. 
That seems to help with whatever has upset Minnie so much. She stays clinging to Matt while he oh so gently sways you back and forth. Her screeching dies down to tired-upset crying and you know she's going to keep going until she passes out. 
To your absolute amazement, Matt doesn't seem deterred at all. He keeps his nose buried into his daughter's hair, talking quietly to her as she sobs, "It's okay. Shhhh, shhh. Feel my heartbeat, sweetie. Focus on that. The bad noise will stop soon, I promise. Just listen to your Mommy and I." 
You have no idea what he is talking about - what the bad noise is - but it's calming Minnie down, so you let him keep going. You keep your hand on her back, gently doing your own 'shhh'ing, trying to encourage her to calm even more. 
"That's my good girl," Matt hums, before giving her the briefest kiss against her temple. "Do you want to go to Mommy now?" 
You don't hear Minnie respond, but she must in some way because soon enough she is being transferred into your arms. She clings to you loosely and you can feel her little body starting to droop. She must be close to wearing herself out.
She makes a little upset whine between her huffing and puffing, and you instantly take up gently bouncing her like Matt has been doing. Matt stays wrapped around both of you, taking over your role of rubbing Minnie's back. 
You don't know how long you stay there, curled together and soothing Minnie, both of you whispering little words of love and comfort to your daughter. 
You think you are past the worst of it, but of course that isn't the case.
Minnie starts squirming and fussing, reaching up and pressing at her ears over her headband. You look up to Matt, to see his reaction and your heart runs cold and fear spikes in you.
He looks absolutely murderous.
He's lifted his head and it is turned towards your living room, his brows scrunched and a scowl on his lips. You instinctively hug Minnie tight to you, but you quickly realize you have nothing to fear.
He stalks across your living room to your open window and yanks it shut. Right away, Minnie loops her arms back around your neck and settles with a sleepy sniffle. You press your face into her, rocking her a little more.
"I've got you, Mouse. It's okay. Mommy's right here."
You don't jump when Matt's hand brushes along your back and he once again wraps you in his arms. You allow yourself to turn ever so slightly and tuck yourself closer, lowering your head so it leans just barely against his shoulder, with Minnie hidden between your bodies.
You feel safe in that moment. You're confused why Minnie got so upset so suddenly and you're confused at how Matt knew how to handle it, but you feel safe, and even more so when Matt's arms tighten around you. 
"I've got you both," he practically breathes against you. "I won't let anything get you. I'm here now. I've got you." 
You close your eyes as the panic and adrenaline washes away from you and the exhaustion of your day starts to catch up to you. You very much understand how rubbing Minnie's back helps her sleep - Matt's started to drag his fingers up and down your spine and you know it could lull you into Dreamland.
Minnie's cries turn into sniffles and then quickly turn into quiet snores as the minutes pass.
You stay still until you are one hundred percent sure she's gone to the world before pulling back just slightly, and whisper, "I should go lay her down." 
Your face is so close to Matt's you can practically taste his breath and your heart starts to pound at the realization of it. 
You don't know if it is on account of your words or if he was also aware how tangled up the two of you were, but Matt drops his arms and steps away from you, nodding, "Yeah, she sounds pretty sleep now."
You chew your lip, not liking how your arms are suddenly chilly, but don't acknowledge it, "I'll be right back." 
You turn and grab Scooby and Pig, knowing another tantrum will happen if your daughter wakes up alone, and head towards the bedroom. It is surprisingly easy to get her to let go of you and you deposit Minnie into her bed. You place her toys beside her and tuck her in, careful to not jostle her. You dare to kiss her forehead before pulling away. 
As you turn to leave your bedroom, your window catches your eye. It is closed, but in front of it is a little table. 
Just like in your living room. There is a table under the window, with more than a few knick knacks on it. 
Your brow furrows and you return to the main living area. Matt has found his way back to the table and is drinking his glass of wine. 
"Is she good?" He asks, setting down his glass and turning to face you. 
"She didn't wake up at all, I think she's down for the count," you say, glancing towards where your window is before looking back to Matt. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," is his instant reply. You take a moment to look him over, from his fluffy hair, to the tomato sauce now on his shirt, to his fancy loafers, before returning to his handsome face.
"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"
tags list:
@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 
@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt
@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374
@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @
Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 
@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @
two-unbeatable-beaters 
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venusiangguk · 1 year
Text
the art of trying | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, angst
>>word count: 29.3k 😁
>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, oc club era 🪩🥂, oc heart to heart with…, enter mr park seojoon !!, budding friendships 🥰, mending of relationships, enter dilf !!, reconciliation finally, but still we yearn, and jk is still a little stewpid, however!! he is doing his best!!, mostly oc pov i think, warning for a little bit of sad bc she is sad !!, but not too sad 😼, enter jock !!, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank u, etc., fore play in the form of a lil dry humping 🫶🏻, finishes (multiple),, oral (m & f), dirty talk, lovesick gross smitteness 👎🏻, jreampie 👍🏻,  and finally, enter nari !! (🧋)
>>notes: finally am i right 🤣
this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist
>>summary: you’re trying to forget jungkook, but he’s trying to make sure you remember why you shouldn’t. 
It’s the middle of January and I haven’t learned to be okay without you, yet. The wind outside is harsh and cold. It hurts my feelings sometimes. 
 It reminds me of you, sometimes, too.
 I still miss you.
 “Girl, what does that even mean?”
 Your laptop gets slammed shut, and you whip your head around to see Binna. Your very best friend that has been caught red-handed, reading over your shoulder.
 “Do you mind?” you say with narrowed eyes.
 “I do actually,” she says, walking around the couch and plopping next to you. 
 You roll your eyes and rephrase with something she’s hopefully less likely to have an answer to. “Can I help you?”
 Binna looks stumped for approximately .4 seconds –not nearly long enough to be satisfying– and then she’s saying, “No, but you can help yourself. Please go to therapy. I am begging you and also I will pay for it.” 
 “Die.”
 “C’mon, you’ve been sad for like almost 2 months,” she groans, “and it’s like… tangible, ___. I walk into the house and I can feel it. It just permeates the air and– look, it even killed the plant.”
 Binna’s pointed finger guides your gaze to the small succulent on the windowsill and it’s a bit pathetic how your eyes start to tear up because it is in fact, the tiny succulent Jeongguk gave you so many months ago. You had done a good job of taking care of it for a while, his occasional texts reminding you to water it had been helpful. But lately you haven’t even really been taking care of yourself, and the little plant has, unfortunately, become collateral damage. 
 You also don’t get those texts anymore.
 With big watery eyes and a fat bottom lip, you turn back to her and she sighs. Grabs the remote and pauses whatever is playing on the tv. This makes Jade squawk, something about her watching it and it being the best part but Binna is having none of it.
 “No, this is actually dire. She’s crying over the plant, Jade. We have to intervene, it’s time.”
 Jade pouts for a moment, looking between the tv and you as if she can’t decide which is more pressing. When she crawls from her place where she was laying on the floor to your feet, it seems her decision is made. She rests her chin on your knee.
 “Still sad over the dilf?” she asks.
 You nod pitifully.
 “She was openly writing melancholy about him… it's a public cry for help,” Binna adds.
 With a nod of understanding, Jade says, “Writing can be a good way to get your thoughts together and work through them.”
 Choosing not to tell them that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to work through all the thoughts because there are just too many and it hurts too bad, you stay quiet.
 It’s not an awkward silence that takes over the living room, but you can tell that Binna and Jade are trying to think of something to say. Jade ends up being the one to interrupt the quiet.
 “Has he reached out to you at all?”
 The unanswered text on your phone started as a temptation, but it’s ended as a little memo that helps put things into perspective. 
 Did you get home okay?
 Jeongguk made his decision and he only sent you that text because he let you leave. 
 He sent you that text after he made it so incredibly clear that he wasn’t going to let you stay in his life.
 Despite you telling him you’d think about things, let him know what you decided in regards to you and him– he really didn’t leave much room for you to do that. He’s hard-headed and he’s extreme and when he makes his mind up about something… it’s not likely anyone will be able to change it. Especially if it has to do with Nari.
 And it’s not like you don’t get it. You do, to some extent at least. 
 Nari is his baby and Nari is his priority. Just like she should be. That’s self-explanatory and easy to understand. If Jeongguk felt you being in his life somehow messed with his priorities and decided it wasn’t going to work out between you two after giving it some thought– it wouldn’t have been easy, but you would have accepted it nonetheless. 
 But part of you believes he didn’t give it much thought at all because one moment he was washing you, taking care of you, kissing you. Making you feel like you were his and he was yours and like he cared. Like he was always going to be there; like he was endless. 
 Then the next he was telling you it was all basically a mistake to him. That he didn’t know if he had the room or the time for you anymore. Like you were an amenity with a timeframe. Something that was worthwhile, until it wasn’t anymore. Something nice that was momentarily useful, something that perhaps made his life better, easier in a way… but something that ultimately wasn’t necessary.  
 The turnaround was too abrupt and too abrasive and too rash for you to accept that it wasn’t impulsive. That he truly thought it through. You think that’s what’s hindering you from moving on. 
 A part of you almost wishes that you could fool yourself into believing he did mull it over. That he simply ‘changed his mind’. Because that’s better than the uncertainty that comes with him cutting you out so heedlessly. 
 If Jeongguk had a change of heart– it means that, at one point, his heart was sure of you; his heart did want you. 
 It’s deceiving, but it hurts less than the uncertainty. 
 The ache that comes with longing for what was is concrete and irrefutable in a bittersweet sense because at least in that case, what you’re yearning for was something that you had; something that was real. 
 You can’t pinpoint the pain that comes with uncertainty. There’s too much room for doubt, too many times you can mistake a ‘what if’ for a ‘what was’. There are too many ways you can spin the past if you’re not certain of it. Too many different outcomes you can craft. There are too many ways that uncertainty can hurt
 Jeongguk’s 180 took place barely within a few hours. Specific changes were instantaneous. Like the quiet unease that shrouded the atmosphere; the quick developing doubt that inevitably tainted both your affections. In all honestly, you could feel the shift as soon as he walked into the playroom after talking to Nari’s mom.
 Dasom.
 The things you feel when you think about her make you feel so ugly. Like your heart is rotten within your core, ruining you from the inside because it’s so easy to blame her and resent her for everything that occurred. Easy to pin the earth-shattering, tectonic shift in your and Jeongguk’s dynamic on her. It’s easy to hate her for the things she said about you, for the thoughts she put into Jeongguk’s head. But deep inside, right next to your rotten heart, there’s something small that’s telling you it’s easiest to hate her because you aren’t her. 
 An achy heaviness levels in your gut and you press your eyes shut tightly, consciously making an effort to not tear up. It still hurts so badly. In a way you don’t even really understand. You’re not sure if it stems from jealousy or insecurity or maybe both. 
 But there is something so excruciatingly painful, something that feels so devastatingly unfair, about Jeongguk and Dasom.
 It’s absurd and it’s stupid to let an ex get to you. You know that and you’re aware that it’s the past and that it’s over between them… but when you think about all of the history? It’s enough to overthink and compare. To wonder ‘what if?’, ask yourself ‘why?’ and ‘does he still?’.  
 Because they loved each other; were in love with each other. They had the sweetest little baby girl together. Dasom will always know Jeongguk in a way that you won’t. She will always know versions of him that you never will. She will always have a part of him and be a part of his life. She will always know him longer than you. No matter what –even if you and Jeongguk had stayed together, fallen in love, and gotten married– she was still there first. In a sense, you won’t ever be able to catch up to her– to them or what they had.
 You almost have to laugh at yourself for thinking like that because it’s so pathetically dramatic and pointless. Because yes, letting an ex get to you is both absurd and stupid. But especially so when you let it get to you after months. 
 Bitterly, you consider that maybe Jeongguk was right. Maybe you were too young for him, and maybe you really weren’t ready for everything that came with him.
 When your thoughts are reeled back in, you tell Jade about Jeongguk’s text you never answered.
 “God what a whore,” Binna groans. “What kind of person asks that after cutting you out of their life?”
 “A man,” Jade reasons.
 It makes you chuckle a small laugh, and the silence that settles this time is a little more comfortable. A couple of minutes pass with the three of you pretending to watch Jade’s show when Binna clears her throat.
 She tries to keep her voice light and casual, acts as if she’s just making conversation. “You’ve been lurking, no?”
 She will be disappointed when you admit that you’ve tried. But she’ll also be pleased to know that you simply can’t.
 “He doesn’t have Instagram.” You shrug your shoulders as if it’s not a big deal and like your recently searched isn’t full of accounts that have some variation of Jeongguk’s name in the user.
 “He probably has Facebook, he’s old,” Jade says absently, eyes glued to the television once again.
 Binna gets a worried look on her face when she can physically see the lightbulb go off in your head. Then her expression shifts into one of tired disapproval. “Thank you for that, Jade.”
 Jade’s reply is simply a preoccupied, half-hearted ‘My bad’.
 But you do not care and your phone is already out. 
 You’re trying to move on, you are. Truly. One peek won’t hurt. Also–
 “He’s not old, he’s only 29,” you say distractedly, waiting for the app to download before the phone is promptly plucked from your hands. “Hey–”
 “Give me that,” Binna interrupts, “If you look him up, you will come up in his ‘people you may know’. I don’t want that for you, and you don’t want that for you. Trust me.”
 With a frowny pout on your face, you settle back into that couch. “Well… I don’t want you coming up in whatever that is either, right?” 
 “You do not need to worry about that because I am a professional and I am crazy. What’s his last name again?”
 Professional and crazy sound like adjectives that are not supposed to go together, but you don’t argue and when she pulls out her own phone, you answer her. 
 Binna’s sleuthing seems to be entertaining enough for Jade to abandon her show, moving from her place at your feet to a seat next to Binna looking over her shoulder. Nervousness keeps you from joining, quietly just waiting for the few moments it takes for Binna to find what she’s looking for. 
 “Ah! Jeon Jeongguk, 30, C–” she gasps, eyes wide as she looks at you, “you didn’t tell us he was a CEO!”
 You shrug. “Didn’t seem important. And I told you already, he’s 29. Not 30.”
 Binna’s brows furrow before she’s looking at her phone again, bringing it close to her face and using her thumbs to zoom in on the profile picture. “Is this not him?”
 “No, that’s him,” Jade confirms, face close to Binna’s. “I’ve seen enough pictures of him in the groupchat that I also see him in my dreams.”
 “Please don’t dream about him,” you say musingly, reaching to snatch the phone from Binna just like she did to you.
 It is in fact your Jeon Jeongguk pictured on the phone. His profile picture is candid, him smiling wide with those puffs under his eyes, probably mid-laugh. But it still seems professional enough, he’s in one of his many expensive suits, with his tie on, and his hair done sleek.
 And you can feel how a small, sad smile comes to rest on your lips. You carefully click on the picture to see when it was posted.
 Just a couple of weeks ago. 
 And the small, sad smile gets even smaller and even sadder. He looks happy enough, and you hope he is. But it stings a little for some reason. 
 Then you remember why you pilfered the phone in the first place.
 Looking over his profile, you see the basic information. His alumn, his job, his hometown. You click the ‘about info’ option below all of that and it’s then that you see his birthday, and that his age is indeed 30. And you feel silly, a little embarrassed, for not knowing. Or maybe forgetting?
 Though, you’re almost positive you didn’t forget. That you wouldn’t have forgotten something like his birthday. That you couldn’t have because Jeongguk was your favorite person. 
 You trade Binna her phone back for yours.
 The photos in your camera roll on his alleged birthday are from what you thought was a random day that Jeongguk asked you to come over.
 It was kinda spontaneous for him. Considering he was someone that usually liked to plan, getting a random phone call from him while you were still at work was out of character. He simply asked if you wanted to come over. Just laze around with him, watch a movie, or something. Stay the night, maybe. He sounded slightly boyish when he asked, like he was trying to mask the hopeful excitement in his voice. You told him yes, of course, but that you wouldn’t be able to come until after work. 
 When you showed up at his, still clad in your work uniform, he was beaming. You barely made it through the door before he was literally giving you the shirt off his back to change into, helping you out of your polo and khakis.
 In the photo you’re looking at, your head is in Jeongguk’s lap and he’s shirtless looking at the tv with his hand over your mouth. You had been purposefully asking too many questions, just like you always did. The picture was taken from below so the angle is a little funny.
 And even though you’re smiling at the memory, the image turns blurry as you start to tear up. Something about it warms your heart while simultaneously breaking it. 
 Apparently, he didn’t want gifts, or anything extravagant. Seeing as he omitted telling you it was the one day of the year that everything was supposed to be about him, the one day he was supposed to be doted on. Jeongguk just wanted to be with you. Just your company was enough for him. Just you were enough for him.
 “He never told me it was his birthday, but he asked me to come over,” you tell your friends, with your thumb swiping through the many pictures you took that day. “Like me just being there was a good enough birthday present or something?”
 Jade can hear the waver in your voice, and she gently says, “Maybe we shouldn’t look at old pics if it’s going to make us sad, hmm?”
 “Maybe we should delete them, hmm?” Binna chirps.
 You hear them but you continue till you get through the whole night and the next morning. The tears are so heavy in your eyes, but you try to laugh, dabbing at your waterline with your sleeve when you say, “I like– really miss him, guys,” before you end up just covering your face with your palms and letting yourself have your moment.
 Jade coos, scooching closer to you, pulling you to her side. She rubs your shoulder soothingly. “I know you do, ___,” she says quietly. 
 Your roommate has really come a long way since the first conversation you had with her about Jeongguk. The other roommate, however, seems like she is regressing. 
 “We have got to get you out of the house and onto another dick. Your vibrator is tired and your pillow probably smells like the ocean because of all the tears it’s soaked up. It probably needs a wash, too.”
 “Binna!” Jade scolds.
 “No, like I’m so serious right now,” Binna defends, “I understand being sad over a breakup, but it’s been months. And over a grown man who lets his literal ex-wife, whom he divorced, still have such a pull on him? Like c’mon. What the fuck is that?”
 “She’s allowed to be sad! And those things you listed make her sadness even more warranted. You were holed up in your room for months too, at one point,” Jade reminds, “But it was over a boyband breaking up.”
 “In hindsight, it was very good for Zayn to leave,” Binna amends before giving you her attention. “Listen I get it, but I just want you to be happy again… You know?”
 When you peek up at her with a sniffle, she looks sad.
 “I don’t want you to get stuck in the sad and the hurt, ___,” she says quietly, “because sometimes when people get stuck in the sad and in the hurt, they can’t like– get unstuck. You know? Nothing gets better. The depression just swallows them and they don’t ever feel better and– I want you to feel better.”
 Binna’s not the most eloquent, but she has the biggest heart. And you know she means well, and despite how stuck in the sad and the hurt you truly are, you know that she does have a point. 
 You have to brood over it for a moment, and you kind of feel like you’re outside of your body when you agree. Like you’re hearing someone else say, “Okay, where are we going?”
 ~~~
 The club lights are too bright and strobing too fast, just asking for someone to seize. Your feet hurt because the heels you’re wearing are too high. You figured the weeks following New Year’s would be less crowded, that everyone would be recovering from blackouts and bad decisions. The sheer number of people around you tells you otherwise. You’re not having a good time. 
 When you tell your roommates as much, their response is handing you a shot. A few shots.
 And since alcohol is essentially magic, with every shot glass that is emptied down your throat, the night grows more enjoyable and less likely to be remembered. The lights turn pretty, and the ache in your feet becomes dull and muted, just like the one in your heart. 
 You’re dancing how a person who doesn’t know how to would. Hips swaying, arms occasionally going above your head before slinking back down and over your body. The bass in the club makes it feel like everything is vibrating and it makes you laugh dumbly, eyes squeezing shut as you giggle to yourself. You know Binna and Jade are close by, but it feels like you’re in your own little world.
 “I feel good,” you yell over the music to no one in particular. Eyes still closed, a loose-lipped smile lingering at the corners of your mouth.
 The warmth of a body can be felt behind you, though it’s not quite pressing against you yet. It doesn’t feel bad, and neither do the fingertips ghosting along the curve of your waist. You press into the touch, the heat, a little more. A chiffon chuckle is puffed over the crown of your head. The tentative fingers at your waist get more firm, their grip trying to steady you.
 “You look good, too,” the body behind you says, lips brushing the shell of your ear. It makes chills prick at your skin.
 You bite your lip to keep from smiling at the sensation, at the words. Your hand goes to cover the bigger one on your waist. You intentionally keep the touch constant when you turn around in their hold. Their palm slides along your body till it’s settling on your lower back just above the swell of your ass.
 When you look up, your reply gets caught in your throat.
 The owner of the warm body behind you is handsome, strikingly so. Tall, strong. Smile dreamy, and eyes dark. He gives you a soft grin accompanied by an encouraging nod, wanting you to say what you can’t seem to get out.
 “Uh–” you sputter with a wince, before clearing your throat, “I– yeah, um… thanks, you too.”
 You can’t hear his laugh over the music, but you can tell he’s amused by the way his chest rumbles, and how his eyes curl. The hand at the base of your spine moves to your hip, squeezing gently.
 His other hand is moving, too, and your track it till it’s tucking some hair behind your ear. You go still and flush when he leans down to your ear again. “I’m Seo-joon,” he tells you.
 Introducing yourself is the automatic reply he gets, and he hums, eyes scanning your face. The hand that tucked your hair trails down your arm until his fingers meet yours. They flirt for a moment before they lace together. His movements seem shy, but they’re actually very calculated. Well practiced. Like he does this a lot. Like he knows exactly how to get what he wants. 
 The realization sobers you some. Not enough to clear all of the drunken fog in your head, but enough to make you vaguely more alert. 
 “I think you’re a… a little too good at this for me, Mr. Seo-joon.” 
 Seo-joon briefly looks surprised, eyes widening like a child who’s been caught in a lie. Then he’s recovering, laughing. “Ah,” he muses, guiding your arms to drape over his shoulders, your hands interlocking behind his neck. His hands do the same around your waist as he pulls you a little closer. “I don’t know, you might be the one that’s too good? Too smart? Read me like an open book.”
 There’s a flutter in your tummy that you haven’t felt in months and it’s exciting. Makes you giddy as you blink up at him sluggishly, eyelids heavy. 
 “Are you not?” you ask him, coquettishly referring to him being easy to read. “Aren’t you here for the usual?”
 He looks up like he’s thinking. Then he’s shrugging, like there’s no point in denying the obvious. Crowding your space, cheek brushing yours as he talks into your ear again, he asks, “And why are you here, ___? The usual, as well?”
 Seo-joon doesn’t move out of your space like the times he did before, instead pulling you into him a bit more, making your space his space too. Lips brush against the corner of your jaw, just below your ear. Teasing, yet sure. 
 “I’m here to forget–” Your hand twines into the hair at the nape of his neck when he nips softly at your earlobe, making you gasp quietly, interrupting yourself. “–about someone.”
 He lets out a smug sound of understanding. “That’s about as ‘usual’ as it gets, ___,” you hear him say, before he purrs confidently, “Let me help you.”
 And when he molds his lips to yours, you expect the kiss to feel as good as the lead-up. 
 You expect the butterflies in your belly to flutter wildly– not go still. You expect the hands roaming over your body to feel rousing– not misplaced, like they aren’t supposed to be there. When you open your mouth to let him lick inside, you expect it to feel right. But it doesn’t. Sure, it doesn’t feel wrong, necessarily. But it doesn’t feel like it should. He doesn’t feel like he should.
 But you want him to. You want Seo-joon to feel right, and you want him to feel good. You want it so badly that you go home with him. 
 ~~~
 The cab ride is nothing but a precursor– something that needs to happen but not something that needs to be remembered. It’s just a soft blur that prequels his soft bed, his soft kisses, his soft pets. 
 Seo-joon is being gentler than he was at the club. 
 Under the hazy hue of the club lights, the strong hands that tugged at the straps of your dress were confident, cunning, audacious, and assertive. Boldly expectant of the outcome he was so sure he would get. 
 Under his sheets, those same hands are… not exactly timid, but ginger with their eagerness. Delicate, imploring, coy, and suggestive; tactfully encouraging, rather than expecting, the outcome that he hopes for. The way his hips brush against yours is unhurried and intentional. The crass, dirty movements from before that were careless and unrefined are long gone. Now he’s patient. Grinding into you slowly, deliberate.
 However, the change in pace, in the scenery, and in his demeanor– none of it makes the kisses taste any sweeter; none of it makes the touches feel any better; none of it makes anything good enough in the effortless way you long for. 
 It’s counterintuitive but the lack of ease, paired with the desire for it, just makes you try harder. Redouble your efforts.
 You press your lips against his in a kiss that’s harder, dig your nails into his shoulders with a grip that’s harder. When you cant your hips up against his just so– you do it harder. He gets a little harder in his pants, and the thoughts in your head get a little harder to ignore. Faking gets harder and pretending does too.
 Seo-joon is smart enough. He’s probably been around enough, too. With experience under his belt, it doesn’t take him long to sense the shift. The way your energy dulls, the slight tension tugging at your frame underneath him. But still, it doesn’t stop him from testing the waters one more time, giving you a few more unsure, assessing kisses. 
 To no avail.
 With furrowed brows, he pulls away. Seo-joon doesn’t look angry, though. Just confused as he braces himself on his forearms, lifting himself just enough to be able to take you in, most of his body weight still resting atop you.
 He clears his throat. “You don’t uh– you don’t really… seem to be– into this? Anymore? Into me?” 
 Your expression probably mirrors his. Confused, and maybe a little lost as you study him. Because he’s handsome. Almost unbelievably so, with his high cheekbones and sharp eyes; his nose and mouth that appear perfectly placed; his smooth, airbrushed skin.
 You should be into him. Superficially at the very least.
 But you just aren’t because even though he is handsome, flawless even, he’s attractive in a very ordinary, classical way. There doesn’t seem to be anything signature about Seo-joon’s features. 
 When he smiled at the club, it was idyllic and exactly symmetrical. His cheeks filled out, but just enough. His teeth –a dentist’s dream– were pristine, perfectly proportioned, and all of them just the right size. So white that they were almost beaming in the dim lights. 
 And even now, when he attempts an uneasy one to shake awkwardness it’s… fine. His plush lips are fine and his straight nose is fine and his even brows are fine and everything about Seo-joon is perfectly fine. 
 But, to you, he’s not really anything special. 
 Surface level, Seo-joon’s perfectly fine. But so are so many other perfectly fine, classically beautiful, ordinary men. There’s nothing that sets him apart. No defining characteristics, nothing about Seo-joon that makes him him. 
 Yet you can’t stop yourself from thinking that even if there were, it wouldn’t matter. 
Because you already know what makes someone special to you. 
 You’re well aware of the distinctive features that make your heart flutter. Like when someone smiles and their bottom lip tugs down just a hint farther on the left side. Or when they get little rounds under their eyes and scrunch their nose when they laugh. When he has things about himself that are slightly imperfect. Like big front teeth or a barely off-center freckle under his bottom lip. Like the deep scar on his cheek that he got from his brother when they were little. Or the faint one by his eyebrow from the piercing he had in college that had to be taken out before it was yanked out by a tiny hand. 
 The man you’re sharing a bed with could be the most uniquely attractive person on earth and it wouldn’t make a difference. It still wouldn’t make him special– not to you. 
 He’s not what you want.
 You hum when you admit it to yourself. 
 “I’m not.”
 Momentarily, Seo-joon looks taken aback by your seemingly rash rethink, but he takes your drunken bluntness in stride. He gives you a forced smile before he hangs his head in an apologetic bow, shifting from on top of you to lay next to you. “I see, I’m sorry if I assumed or overstepped or made you feel like you had to come home with m–”
 Seo-joon sounds guilty, and it surprises you when a hint of guilt starts to bloom in your chest.
 “You didn’t!” you interrupt, “I thought I was into you… or like I should be into you…”
 His eyebrow quirks and he just looks at you.
 “Ah…” you muse awkwardly, scanning the room. 
 It’s so very bachelor. Dark furniture, a big tv mounted on the wall, a little bar cart off to the side next to the mini fridge that’s kinda big to be called ‘mini’. Nothing personal at all that could tell you anything about him, except the boxers on the floor that tells you he prefers Armani. No hint as to what his goals or his hobbies are. 
 Perhaps it's a good thing you didn’t sleep with Seo-joon. Guys like him have the most brutal post-nut clarity and you’re not sure you could take another grown man hurting your feelings. 
 “I just don’t want you to think like– I don’t know? That you did something wrong? Or that you like coerced me into coming h–” 
 “Wait, I didn’t think that–”
 “–I’m the one that should be sorry!” you assure him, “Because I don’t think I actually went out to try and forget someone; I think I was trying to find them?”
 A couple of stilted seconds pass. 
 “In… me?” he asks, like he’s mentally trying to puzzle the pieces together.
 “I guess? Maybe replace them with you? Or like… use you… as a placeholder?” You wince helplessly at your choice of words, unable to stop them before they spill out. 
 Seo-joon’s confusion is replaced by a quick, bright laugh which is followed by a small smile that seems almost pitying. 
 “You’re still young–”
 You physically cannot stop the way you interrupt him with.
 “Please shut the fuck up.”
 The tired words are spat tartly before you can clench your teeth around them. It’s probably a defense mechanism– you’re not quite sure you can handle another grown man being mean to you, but you’re almost very sure that you can’t handle one lecturing you about how young you are, about how much life you still have left to live, about how your youth makes it difficult to know what you really want, about how–
 “Whoa,” he laughs. He’s on his side, his head propped up on his palm. He eyes you for a moment before he tugs the strap of your bra back up, haphazardly covering you again. “Sore spot?” 
 Pulling his sheets up for good measure, you pout. “He was older.”
 Seo-joon makes a noise of understanding. “Older like… older brother’s friends older? Or older like met him at your dad’s work party older?”
 Heat floods the rounds of your cheeks and you look anywhere but at the man next to you. No photos in frames. Not even a dvd collection that could tell you what type of movies he likes.
 “He’s like– dad old,” you murmur, chancing a glance at Seo-joon only to see him pull a queasy-looking face, and then you’re backtracking to defend yourself. “But only like baby-dad old! Not like– teenager-dad old!”
 He looks unconvinced. “How big’s the gap?”
 “7 years?” you try.
 Seo-joon goes from unconvinced to shocked and then to puzzled. “That’s like… nothing? Probably around our gap too?”
 Your hands fly up and you scoff a little as you exasperate, “That’s what I said!”
 He joins in and you both laugh in his bed until the giggles putter out into lazy silence. You’re pulling at a little tuft of lint when he hums.
 “He told you that you were too young?”
 You open your mouth to reply immediately, but then hesitate. 
 Because your age was part of it. Of course, it was, but was it all of it? Was it the root of it?
 “I mean you are; not too young, just… young. But–” Seo-joon grins smugly, giving you a pointed look when he sees you scowl, “–youth isn’t a bad thing. And you’re smart. I meant it when I said that.”
 Rolling your eyes, you say, “We literally just met–”
 “Yeah, and?” he counters, just for the sake of it because he still doesn’t allow a reply. “We only just met and I could already tell that you were smart. Even though I tried, I knew my… methods wouldn’t work on you. You read me like an open book,” he repeats what he said earlier that night, before speaking slowly like he’s spelling something out for you. “and I’m sure I’m not the only one you’re able to read like that?”
 Your scowl intensifies. “What are you getting at?”
 “This boy you’re trying to ‘forget’? ‘Find’?” The hand that’s not supporting him comes up and he makes some air quotes. His tone is a little softer, like maybe he’s trying to be gentle. Or maybe he’s just tired of talking to you. You can’t be sure.
 “I feel like you’re smart enough to know if the whole thing is worth it or not. How long ago was it?”
 “A month or 2… give or take 17 days…” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.
 “Okay. But yeah… that’s a good chunk of time…” he says around a quick yawn. Then he hums thoughtfully to himself. “I feel like you could think back and read the situation a bit more clearly now? Like, reassess it to… you know… I don’t know just figure stuff out…”
 “‘You know, I don’t know’, ‘Just figure stuff out’, ” you mimic dryly, “That’s all the advice you have to offer me when you’ve lived lifetimes longer than me?”
 “Listen, you can’t hate all men because of one man–”
 “Yes, I ca–”
 “Okay but, you don’t even hate that one man? That’s the whole issue?” Seo-joon interrupts. He lilts his tone up in an inquisitive manner, like he wants you to confirm. 
 You refuse and choose to reply with petulant silence.
 “Exactly. C’mon, use that big, smart brain in that pretty, little head of yours,” he encourages, “Look back and just figure stuff out. It might be hard, but not as hard as you think. I feel like time away from what we think we need or want, always puts things into perspective. Distance makes the heart fonder, or–” He pauses for dramatic effect. “It makes the heart indifferent.”
 Not rolling your eyes is a feat, but you manage. “Clearly my heart did not become indifferent if I am laid up with you and still going on about it.”
 Seo-joon hums again, carries on some more. But you’re not paying attention because maybe time didn’t put things into perspective, but his words just did.
 Distance and time make the heart indifferent.
 Jeongguk hasn’t been to your store once since you left his house. 
 You frown, connecting imaginary dots as a little wrinkle sprouts between your brows. “He hasn’t come to see me since he cut things off.”
 Seo-joon pauses mid-sentence, mimes your expression. “Did you expect him to?”
 You pause now. 
 “Um… kinda?” you start. Rolling to your side you copy his position so you can look at him. “I mean, I work at the grocery store he would normally shop at,” you explain, before tacking on, “That’s where we met. He lost his baby and I found her… Or– she found me I guess.”
 A small twinge of pain pricks your heart at the mention of Nari. You wonder if she’s talking, or if she’s at least getting closer. If she still doesn’t keep the sock on her left foot, or if she’s grown out of that nerve-wracking yet endearing little habit of hers. 
 What Dasom said about Nari getting attached comes to mind and you hope the little one is doing well. It hurts a little to think about, but you hope for her sake, that she didn’t get too attached or too sad when you stopped coming around. You hope she forgot you quickly.
 “Anyway,” you say, “Guess that means his heart became indifferent.”
 Giving a half-hearted shrug with a single shoulder, aiming to come off unbothered. Trying to act indifferent yourself, and like your heart didn’t just drop. You blink a couple of times in an attempt to clear the glassiness you know is cloaking your eyes and offer a weak smile.
 Regarding you with a slightly concerned color to his features, Seo-joon chooses to not address the passing mention of a misplaced child or the fact that you’re very close to crying while half-naked in his bed. Decidedly, he says, “I’m not sure if I would call avoidance indifference.”
 You sniffle. “Huh?”
 His eyes narrow and he looks like he’s debating something internally. Then he sighs. “Listen, I’m not trying to encourage you to wait for him or go back to him. Or like… give you false hope–”
 “Gee, thanks–”
 “No really,” he stresses, “because that genuinely could be nothing. Men are a bit dense. They do things that may seem calculated, but in actuality, they’re just daft and it didn’t even cross their mind. But in my opinion,” he continues slowly, a bit hesitantly, “Choosing to not go to the grocery store he –I’m assuming– frequented regularly? Right after a breakup?” He sucks a bit of air in through his teeth before he shakes his head. “Yeah, that seems like a very deliberate choice.”
 “Like indifference would be more–” he continues before pausing briefly to choose the right words, “I picture indifference as more of– him still going to your work, despite the breakup, because he just doesn’t give a fuck.”
 Whatever words you were planning to say get caught in your throat and you cough out a short laugh at Seo-joon’s straightforwardness. 
 He grins a little. “Right? Because that’s what it is– a lack of interest, lack of concern. Like he just doesn’t care one way or the other about you being there because you’re not important enough for him to be affected by you.”
 You know he’s speaking in hypotheticals, but it still sours your expression. Makes your lips pull down at the corners.
 “Personally, if I were him and I was truly indifferent, truly unbothered,” he places his hand on his bare chest, “you being there or not being there wouldn’t be significant enough for me to alter my routine.”
 Your eyes flit quickly over Seo-joon’s torso. His gesture causes the sheet to fall slightly, pooling at the subtle curve of his waist. There’s a faint warmth flooding your cheeks as you swiftly and intently bring your gaze back up. 
 You swallow before replying with a simple, “Ah… yes… that makes perfect sense.”
 Playfully, Seo-joon scowls at you. “You sure you don’t want to fuck?”
 “Yup.”
 “It may help–”
 “Nope, don’t think it will actually.”
 He shrugs, an amused grin still lingering. “Suit yourself–”
 “I feel like your post-nut clarity would hurt my feelings and I’m vulnerable right now.”
 It’s silent for 1, 2, 3 seconds before Seo-joon’s loud laughter echoes in his room. Failing to keep a straight face, he rolls on his back and rests his head on his pillow as he lets himself laugh to his heart’s content. Then he inhales deeply and scrubs a hand over his face and swipes a finger beneath his bottom lashes; catching his breath and regaining his composure and wiping away the wetness under his eyes. 
 A few seconds pass before he’s turning his head to look at you with a quiet smile. It feels a bit too tender, too sincere, and too heartfelt, for what was supposed to be a one-night-stand. 
 “See,” he says softly, “told you you were smart.”
 You just look at him, trying to read him like he’s so sure you can. There doesn’t seem to be any ulterior motives, just him being genuinely kind to you because he wants to be. And for some reason that makes your eyes burn.
 “If it doesn’t hurt too badly to revisit everything that went on with the boy,” Seo-joon begins, interrupting the light hush that settled between the two of you, “I really feel like you’ll be able to see things clearer; read the situation better. Figure stuff out. And then, things will start to fall into place for you. Everything will start to make a little more sense. You’ll know if you’re wasting your time being hung up on him, and if it’s worth your happiness. You’ll know if looking for him is worth the effort, and you’ll be sure that ‘finding’ him is actually what you want after all.”
 You’re definitely going to cry.
 “And when I said you were still young, and that your youth wasn’t a bad thing,” he continues, “I meant that if you decide that you do want to look for him, and you do find him again– you still have enough time to try with him again.”
 With a wobbly bottom lip, you feel your features slowly morph into a scowl.
 It’s self-directed because it’s then that you think about what’s happening and how ridiculous it all seems.
 Because why are you on the tail end of being drunk, half-naked in the bed of a grown man who you met just hours ago? Why are you telling him bits and pieces about the person he was supposed to distract you from? The person that caused you the most delicately painful ache that’s been festering for months? Why are letting this man give you advice? Why are you letting him comfort you? And why does it feel like he’s done a better job of it by just listening to you for the last few hours, than friends you’ve had for years? 
 And why do you feel like you’re going to cry about it?
 The self-directed scowl morphs to a Seo-joon-directed glare.
 “He’s not a boy,” you begin in a voice that shakes just a hint, arguing just to be difficult, “he’s a man with the cutest baby and he’s 30 now and–” The urge to cry cuts you off and you feel the first tear leak from the corner of your eye. 
 Seo-joon’s soft, sincere smile turns slightly sad as he tracks the salty drop. “Hey, don’t cry–”
 “Shut-up,” you spout, your tone somewhere in between short and like you’re begging him to be quiet because it was him speaking that brought you to this state in the first place. 
 A short staring contest ensues.
 “Also– I bet you would’ve been the worst fucking one-night stand,” you add on for good measure. 
 Seo-joon’s ability to keep from laughing is impressive. It’s only for a second that an amused smile overtakes his features– a natural reflex he isn’t able to stop. But it’s barely there at all before he’s schooling his features into something that he hopes looks receptive, like he’s taking in what you’re saying, absorbing it like it’s Gospel. 
 But he’s also a curious motherfucker, and he wants to know why you think that. 
 “That is baseless and an unfounded assumption,” he defends himself, because he may be receptive, but he is also a damn good one-night stand. “With that being said, please tell me why you feel that way.”
 “Because I’m crying! And it’s because of you! You and your making of us bare our fucking souls during pillowtalk! Who does that?!” 
 It’s huffy and snippy and you both know you’re being mean just for the sake of it. 
 With lips pressed into a tight, smile-proof line, Seo-joon nods easily; agreeable and understanding.
 He knows you’re fragile and that you’re tired– so he chooses not to voice how he considers what you talked about very surface level. How he thinks you may be more hurt and affected by whatever took place between you and this guy than you even realize yet. How he feels like you still have so much to work through, so much to learn.
 Seo-joon lets you win and reminds himself that, right now, it’s not his job to help you soothe the things that hurt or fix the things that are broken. Reminds himself that you’re smart enough to figure stuff out on your own.  
 There’s a brief lull in the conversation that’s not as awkward or tense as it probably should be.
 You sniffle. Then you hiccup.
 And Seo-joon laughs, loud and brash and fond as he leans towards you. He gives you what feels like a platonic kiss on your forehead. 
 “Can I get your number?”
 ~~~
 It’s an early Thursday morning in late January and Jeongguk is feeling troubled. Plagued, if you will, as he towels off after his morning shower. Plagued with the ever-growing, ever-evolving urge to check up on you. To see how you’re doing.
 Lurking, as Taehyung calls it, doesn’t happen all that often. Jeongguk makes a point to not let himself do it daily. Or even weekly. It was his New Year’s resolution, in fact. That being said, it’s been exactly 12 days since he’s used his friend’s 8-year-old son’s instagram account to see what you’ve been up to.
 Typically, he can talk himself out of the sudden notion. Put it off until he forgets, or just doesn’t feel he needs to so badly anymore. Currently, however, he’s blaming his inability to nix the restlessness in his fingertips on the fact that he hasn’t had Nari around to keep him busy. It’s been a long week.
 Because Jeonggk’s been doing his best to keep himself from opening your page for what feels like days. Resisting the pesky pull even though he doubts you’ve even posted. Out of the times he’s given in over the last few weeks, he thinks you’ve posted maybe once. And it was just a picture of some clouds at that– vaguely heart-shaped, wispy, white puffs against sky-blue. The caption was just two emojis, the wind-face lady next to the white heart. 
 So frankly, even though he’s not exactly keen on how strong and itchy the urge to check on you is– he’s also not exactly sure why he’s fighting it. Not when merely scratching it isn’t going to change anything. 
 After shrugging on his work blazer, Jeongguk admits defeat– his inner demons having won yet again. He resigns to apathetic, easily accepted complacency as he swipes through the pages on his home screen till he gets to the very last one that houses the small, sunset-colored camera app. He figures he should probably just get it over with.  
 As he touches the application open, Jeongguk reasons that he’s just been putting off the inevitable– that he knows an itch can’t be ignored and that it won’t be quelled until it’s scratched or soothed. Tells himself that a quick peek before heading out for work won’t matter.
 As he clicks on the mini magnifying glass at the bottom of the screen, Jeongguk reminds himself of lurking’s insignificance. Thinks back to all the times he’s done it before and how it never made a difference. 
 As he sorts through the random selection of 8-year-old boy searches till he finds your user in the mix, he reassures himself that checking on you won’t do anything but alleviate the nagging in the back of his head and the tingling in his fingertips. 
 As he taps your profile, he convinces himself that lurking will be relieving and nothing more.
 As Jeongguk sees that you have posted, he realizes that this time, lurking does matter and that he is so very stupid for assuming it would bring him relief.
 The picture is blurry, not unlike a handful of others he’s seen on your feed. 
 But the setting captured is new. The pink-tinted lighting isn’t familiar, and neither is the purple and blue hues. The crowd you captured is much more… abundant than what he’s become accustomed to seeing when he pulls up your page. 
 Jeongguk scans the photo for just a bit longer and then swipes to the next one in the post. This one is the final stupid nail in the coffin of Jeongguk’s stupid demise. The couple shot glasses grouped together in blurry cheers are all the confirmation he needs to know exactly where you were. His eyes flick to your caption, and then his features pull into a pensive frown with furrowed brows.
 BUT FOUR DRINKS IM WASTED !! 
 Jeongguk taps open the comments.
 flickthebinna: you’ve had exactly two (2) shots
ocstagram: i am Wasted !! 🤬
jadedjade: can u let her be wasted and focus on getting our drinks @flickthebinna 🤨
 He can’t help but chuckle at your and your friends’ interactions, but as he closes the app he catches himself doing a certain habit of his. The little tick where he tilts his head and juts his jaw out quickly. His telltale sign of irritation.
 Irritated with himself, of course. Partly because of the obvious. The spying (from a child’s social media account nonetheless), the moping that he’s been doing for months, the procrastinating and avoiding that’s been going on for almost just as long. 
 But also because he feels so embarrassingly immature for allowing what he finds out from the spying to affect him so deeply. It seems so very juvenile to get this worked up over an instagram post. 
 He’s irritated at the emotional rush and the way his hands are shaking. At the way his mind is jumping to conclusions and conjuring up all sorts of sour scenarios. He’s irritated with himself for the way unwarranted jealousy burns in his chest. 
 The irritation stews; sits in the passenger seat as he makes the drive to work– right next to the sudden instinct to act on a restless whim. The irritation festers; accompanies the worsening impulsive urge that makes it hard to think and ultimately pushes him to make a wrong turn. 
 The irritation is only sated when he pulls up to a curb and his car comes to a stop. 
 Jeongguk’s irritated with himself for a lot of things. But mostly because it took him so long to get here.
 ~~~
 He’s not sure why he anticipated you answering the door. Karma wouldn’t be so kind, and he wouldn’t be so lucky. Obviously.
 “And why the fuck are you here?” This is how Binna greets him, after taking him in with a groggy, borderline bored stare. 
 With a wince, Jeongguk tries, “Hi Binna–”
 “Don’t you have a job?” she interrupts, the volume of her tone increasing with every word. “Aren’t you so busy? So busy, in fact, that it’s so hard to find the time for–”
 He opens his mouth to try and get a word in but stops abruptly. So does Binna when she feels a soft hand on her shoulder, and hears a grumpy ‘Why are you being so loud?’.
 Right in front of him, you’re still half-asleep. Drowsily using the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt you’re wearing to rub over your face tiredly. Seeing as he decided to show up at a little past 8 in the morning.  
 After a few slow, dreamy blinks, you direct your attention to Jeongguk and he feels like he can’t breathe.
 It’s unconscious, how his lips turn up a smidge when he really sees you for the first time in what feels like forever. When he sees the warmth that lives inside of you color your skin with the softest, natural flush. 
 Jeongguk is still so jealous. 
 He watches you and he studies you. Now that he’s not relying on his memories or the pictures in his camera roll or the ones on your socials– he’s trying to pick out what’s the still same; how you’ve changed. Your hair is a bit longer, a shade or two darker as well. Maybe it’s the big hoodie you’ve got on, but you look smaller than he remembers. In his chest, he feels his heart tug but he can’t dwell on it too much as he refocuses on your features beginning to stir. 
 They shift from dazedly blank to shocked, as if your still-sleepy brain has just now registered him being there, and the smallest gasp sounds from your lips. Then an expression that’s a cross between confused and angry takes the place of prior surprise. The doe-ish look becomes sharp and stern; your narrowed eyes are framed above by scrunched brows and below by shadowy circles. Your mouth goes from slack with your plush lips barely parted, to pouty and pursed in a deep frown.
 Jeongguk knows he should say something. 
 Explain. 
 Say sorry. 
 Ask for forgiveness. 
 But he feels mute, like his heart is stuck in his throat. Like he can’t do anything but stand there and hope you show him a little bit of undeserved grace. That you give him a moment, and then another, to get himself together. Even though he’s had too many moments already to do exactly that.
 In the few seconds that go by you shoo your roommate, and after she’s gone, your face changes once again. Softening just enough to not be so harsh. You stand in your doorway as he flounders and you watch with intent, almost curious, anticipation. And Jeongguk doesn’t want to be too optimistic– but he thinks there might be a hint of relief, an inkling of eager, hopeful expectation hiding in the way you’re looking at him. 
 As if you’ve been waiting for him; wanting him– and now he’s finally here; almost yours. 
 He’s so caught up in that –the minute chance of reconciliation that he only thinks he caught a glimpse of– that he doesn’t get out of his head until the movement of your shoulders slumping, and your chest deflating rips him out of it. 
 Jeongguk would prefer the air your demeanor carried just moments ago. The quiet, masked hopefulness you gave off before you made yourself smaller and breathed that tiny, dejected sigh. God, he would even take the calloused, puzzled hostility you had when you first realized it was him in standing in your doorway. Anything over how you look currently.
 Definitely disappointed, maybe a little bit embarrassed, and just so sad. 
 It’s what he expected, at least to some extent. He’s foolish, but he can only fool himself so much. There’s a limit on how many fantasies of effortless forgiveness he can have before he has to face reality. 
 Jeongguk knew you would be sad, and he knew you would be disappointed. He was ready to take responsibility for the role he played because he was so sure that it would be his fault.
 But what makes how you’re looking at him right now so awful, so unbearable– is that you’re looking at him like it has nothing to do with him. 
 You don’t look disappointed in him. You don’t look sad because of him. 
 It looks internal, so personal. 
 Like you’re sad because you naively allowed yourself to hope– let it glimmer, shining so obvious in your eyes. Only for the brightness to dim, snuffed out by the foolishness that so often goes hand in hand with naivety. 
 Like you’re sad because as soon as you saw him, you had expectations– preconceived notions about how it would go when he came back, how he would act. Only to learn that with enough preconceived notions, you can turn expectations into daydreams.
 Maybe that’s why you look a little embarrassed, too. Because you so quickly let yourself hope, like a child who hasn’t learned from their mistakes. Because you immediately conjured up expectation-disguised daydreams of Jeongguk. Still, after all this time. After everything he’s done, you still expected good from him. 
 You look like you’re disappointed in yourself, not him, because you should have known better.
 He doesn’t find his voice until you’re shaking your head like he’s let you down. Until you’re turning away from him and edging the door closed.
 “I’m sorry!”
 Jeongguk blurts the words out, and he didn’t say much but his chest is heaving and he’s got this frantic way about him and a panicky feeling flooding his veins. When you look up, surprise flashes across your face, but it’s gone in an instant and is replaced by incredulous anger. Like you can’t believe him. 
 Despite your trying to stand your ground and hold his gaze, a gleam still shines in your eyes.
 “I am,” he assures breathlessly, his eyes darting across your face, “I’m so sorry, ___. And–”
 When Jeongguk tells you he misses you, he notices how you almost flinch. How your eyes snap shut tightly –like you can feel his words, but still aren’t sure if they’re real or if they’re true; like you’re scared of finding out– and the heavy tears pooling on your lashline finally spill over. 
 As the salty droplets drip down the apples of your cheeks, Jeongguk feels an ache that hurts so badly that it’s visceral. Like if he could crack open his chest, he could get a hand on the it and just rip the pain out and make it go away. If only that was the case. 
 “I–” you start, but your voice gives out. You clear your throat with a small cough, and talk to the ground because it’s easier to talk to than him. “Maybe we’re better like this, Gguk.”
 Jeongguk’s heart drops, and it’s a struggle to get out even just a whispered a plea of your name.
 When you speak up this time, you force your eyes to meet his. Your brows are upturned and your bottom lip quivers for just a second before you take a deep, self-soothing, breath and school your features into a facade of indifference and resolve. 
 “I hope Nari’s been okay. And you. I hope you’ve been okay, too.”
 Jeongguk’s brows furrow. He’s confused but gives you an unsteady nod. “She– she’s good, yeah.”
 You scan his face, trying to keep your own expression neutral. But how he only mentions Nari and not himself doesn’t evade you. A faint heartache murmurs in your chest, but you mimic his nod. “That’s good. I’m glad–”
 “What about you? Have you been okay?”
 Jeongguk’s words come out overhasty and too eager. But after such a long time of replaying old dialogues in his head– talking to you just feels so nice. He doesn’t want to stop, even if the conversation feels stilted and trivial. He’s still going to hang on to every little marginal thing you say, and he’s still going to do his best to keep the empty words flowing between you.
 He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath while he awaits your answer. Not until he hears you say, “Yeah, I’m happy, I think” and the air inside his lungs vacates. Making room for a thick cloud of melancholy that isn’t surprising, but still makes it hard to breathe all the same. 
 Guilt mingles with the suffocating hurt because you being happy shouldn’t make him sad.  
 But then you smile and Jeongguk responds with a frown and a skeptical shake of his head. 
 Because the smile– it’s so fake, so unconvincingly artificial and staged that when it turns your eyes to half moons and causes their corners to crinkle– it also forces a fresh wave of tears to tumble down your cry-flushed cheeks. 
 He doesn’t believe you, but that’s no surprise. You’ve never been a good liar.
 A dim, defeated laugh putters from your lips. Trying to portray nonchalance, you give him a weak, half-hearted shrug, like you know you’ve been caught but it can’t be helped.
 He knows it hurts you to dismiss him. He can hear it in your shaky, wispy tone when you say, “Take care, Gguk.”
 Take care Gguk.
 Jeongguk knows it’s a ‘goodbye’. A goodbye that he’s having trouble processing. 
  It feels like a lifetime, but really it’s only a few seconds that Jeongguk stands there trying to make sense of your words. It’s only a few more before the door closes on him. 
 Jeongguk couldn’t process the goodbye, but the telltale click of the door locking somehow makes perfect sense.
 ~~~
 Like you are the starlet of your very own coming of age, lifetime, hallmark romance drama– you don’t let yourself cry until your back is pressed against the closed door. Then you cover your mouth to keep quiet as you slide down the wood.
 The moment is short-lived. 
 “Where’s Jeongguk?”
 The voice seemingly comes from nowhere, and you jump slightly before swearing and directing your puffy, bloodshot eyes at your roommates. They both have their head peeking out from behind the kitchen wall. Nosy.
 “What do you mean ‘where’s Jeongguk?’” you groan, knocking your head back against the wood.
 Binna and Jade exchange a look. 
 “Are you guys like… not gonna… talk?”
 You slow blink at them a single time.
 An awkward quiet permeates the pumpkin-spice-scented air of your shared home. It’s not even Fall anymore. 
 “Well,” Binna starts, and then cuts herself off like she spoke before she knew what she wanted to say. She elbows your other housemate. “Jade?”
 Jade gives you an instinctive, reactionary smile that’s far too big. “I mean… communication is key… right? And that’s mainly what was lacking before? Talking now could give you the oppurtunity to say all the things you’ve been wanting to. And maybe he can explain his side–”
 Binna raises a hand to cut her off, “Too much credit, he is still a man.”
 “Fair but–”
 The two bicker for a bit before looking at you again.
 “Wait, did you not want to work things out?” 
 You roll your eyes. “Of course I wanted to.”
 “Of course you did,” Jade agrees easily. 
 “Of course you did,” Binna mimics before groaning and asking, “So why the hell is he not here, and why the hell are you not talking and ‘working things out’?” 
 Crossing your arms, your posture becomes defensive. “Wouldn’t that be too easy? Like he shows up at my door after all these months of virtual silence and I just let him in? Aren’t I supposed to make him grovel and cry and beg?” 
 “You have to let the man speak for him to be able to grovel and cry and beg, I’m afraid…” Binna informs.
 The narrowing of your eyes is the simple response she gets. Only because Jade speaks up before you can.
 “You know…” Jades starts, then ponders momentarily. “If it was you that showed up at his house out of the blue at 8 in the morning on a weekday? Then yeah,” she nods to herself, “I would say that it was too easy for him. But he came back to you. And just talking to him?” she shakes her head, “That’s not forgiving him. He still has a lot of work to do– and you should make him prove himself. Prove that he’s grown and changed,” Jade says before she gives you a gentle smile. “But him knocking on the door was also him taking the first step.”
 He came back to you.
 It’s what you wanted. But now that it’s happening, you have no clue what to do next. 
 You don’t know what to say. Are you supposed to lie and tell him you’re thankful that he pushed you away; that it helped you realize that he was right? That you are too young? That you’re happier without him, better off being free like he wanted you to be? 
 Or do you tell him the truth? Do you tell him about how hard it was without him? About how painful it was to go from having so much of him, all of the time– to not having none of him at all, ever? Do you come clean about how hollow and lost being alone made you feel? Do you tell him about how much it hurt every time you thought about how all it took was a few words from his ex– and you were gone; cut out so easily and carelessly? Do you admit that it still hurts to remember?
 You don’t know what to do. Do you resist the fight you’re expected to make him put up? Or do you not fight it much at all and welcome him with a second chance and a fresh start? Do you pretend like you didn’t miss him? Like you didn’t fantasize about him coming back? That you didn’t look for pieces of him everywhere you went; in everybody you met? 
 You don’t know how to feel. Happy because he came to you? Sad that it took so long? Scared because him coming back is just another chance for him to leave again?
 You were already crying, but the trickle of tears grows steadier. The sleeve of your sweatshirt is swiped angrily at your eyes, the light grey material dampened a few shades darker. 
 “Bro,” you cry, “I can’t even look at him without crying, I’m not gonna be able to talk to him. It hurts too bad.”
 Jade looks down at you, gives you a pity pout. “If it’s any consolation, I think he will cry too.”
 Binna agrees with a sympathetic nod of her head. “He’s probably hurting just like you, but it’s what he deserves.
 “___,” Jades speaks up again, “It doesn’t have to be so– painstaking. Like you don’t have to drive yourself mad thinking about what you should do. Just do what you want to do. If you want to talk to him, then talk to him.” She shrugs like it’s really that simple.
 And maybe it is. 
 ~~~
 It definitely isn’t.
 Because if it was, you would not have opened with, quote, ‘I let you put your finger in my ass’, unquote. 
 And Jeongguk wouldn’t have replied with a slow, painfully dumb sounding: ‘I– yes… I remember…?’
 You don’t even really know how it happened. 
 One second you’re hit with a burst of inspired adrenaline and then the next you’re knocking the wind out of both you and Jeongguk by barreling into his chest. The collision must have knocked the sense out of you, too. It’s the only explanation for your behavior. 
 All the same, the blame can’t be entirely yours– Jeongguk has to take some of it. He was standing directly outside of your door, after all. He claims he was working up the courage to knock again but that’s beside the point.
 You keep your thoughts to yourself, as you pretend not to catch the way that he rolls his lips between his teeth to keep a smile off his face when you lead him into your room and slyly try to kick a few things under your bed. A stuffed animal, a bra. A few too many socks.
 It’s a stupid attempt to make your space look a little more tidy and less like you’ve been rotting in it for the last few months. The room’s not too messy by any means; definitely not unkempt enough for you to feel embarrassed or like you need to straighten it up to impress him. But you hope he chalks it up to your nerves getting the best of you.
 He’s nervous, too. If how awkward he’s being is anything to go by. 
 Just standing at the foot of your bed with his hands in his pockets while you situate yourself in front of your headboard. He doesn’t take a seat until you pat the mattress a little, letting him know it’s okay and that you want him to. 
 There’s a quiet hush that fills the space. It’s slightly tense, but it’s not entirely uncomfortable; stilted but somehow familiar. 
 You’re sitting with one leg dangling and a pillow in your lap. It’s hugged to your chest. Perhaps a make-shift shield to put something between you and Jeongguk. Fiddling with a loose pillowcase string helps you avoid eye contact by making you look occupied.
 Jeongguk’s sat before you, stiff and looking down at the floor between his feet. Similarly evading your gaze just like you’re doing with his. He’s clenching and unclenching his hands, rubbing his palms restlessly over the material of his slacks. 
 Thinking back, Jeongguk feels like he did so much of the talking that night in his living room. Probably too much, if he’s being honest. He feels he never really gave you the time to say your side or a proper chance to explain yourself. 
 So this time, he wants to let you do most of the talking. Let you be the one to initiate, at the very least. He wants to give you all the time you need to start the discussion how and when you want, with what you want and feel has precedence.
 Jeongguk stays patient right up until you say in a huff, “Well say something, I’m obviously not good at this.”
 His lips twitch at your stubborn, slightly irritated tone. 
 “You’re the one that showed up at my house when I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be at work, so,” you wave your hand at him, indicating you want him to get on with it. “Must have something important to say.”  
 The small laugh he allows himself is barely a chuckle, but it tumbles from his lips before he can stop it. Blames it on instinct and the simple fact that he just misses you. 
 “It is important,” he confirms, giving into your bait and starting the conversation for you. He considers staying quiet, getting another little reaction out of you, but he reminds himself that this isn’t the time for that. If he plays his cards right, maybe then he’ll be able to joke with you. But as of now, that’s not his place anymore.
 Shifting to face you a little more, so that when he says, “I wanted to apologize to you, ___,” you have his full attention.
 When he speaks, you don’t look at him. Instead, you only give him the faintest nod with your eyes cast down. Still fixed on the pillow in your lap. But Jeongguk notices how your lashes flutter quickly before you press your eyelids together tightly; just like you did earlier when he said that he missed you. 
 Your shoulders lift when you take a deep inhale, and your face is more or less neutral when your eyes meet his. 
 “It’s been months,” you tell him. 
 As if he doesn’t know. As if he hasn’t been driving himself mad day in and day out trying to muster up the courage to do precisely this; as if time doing what time does hasn’t been the bane of his existence. Because with each passing day, he knew he was that much closer to going from ‘it’s been so long’ to ‘it’s been too long’. He’s all too aware of just how long it’s been. 
 Regardless, he doesn’t want to give you excuses; choosing to be easily agreeable. He offers a small tilt of his head as acknowledgment. 
 “Why now?” you question him.
 Jeongguk tries to keep the sadness off of his face when he hears how you sound. 
 The tone of your voice is unsure; hurt. But the pain is elusive. Only heard when your subtle heartache peeks through the veil of composure you’re trying to hide behind.
 While he racks his mind for a worthy explanation, his eyes scan yours. Overflowing with so many different emotions and so expressive just like he remembers. 
 “I wish–” he begins, “I wish that I could tell you that I’ve been working toward this for ages and that I thought through all the steps and knew exactly what I wanted to say to you…” He gives a small self-deprecating chuckle, “But I can’t tell you that. After earlier, it’s clear that I didn’t have any idea or plan,” he offers you his bared palms. “I wish I had a good reason for ‘why now’, but I don’t.”
 Your brows furrow with affronted confusion. Jeongguk speaks up before you can.
 “That’s not to say that I haven’t been thinking about this since you left–”
 “I didn’t leave, you got rid of me–”
 The correction is hissed before you snap your mouth shut like you didn’t mean to say it. But you don’t take the words back and Jeongguk can’t control his expression this time. His face falls and he sighs as he looks down at the pattern on his pants. 
 “I’ve been thinking about this since I told you to leave,” he tries again, slowly. When you don’t comment again after a small pause, he continues, “but I wasn’t actively figuring out how to do it. I’ve come to learn that plans are essentially useless, so planning out what to say to you seemed pointless. In hindsight, it just made me look stupid,” he muses.
 “Honestly, having you on a constant loop in my mind wasn’t intentional; I didn’t want that,” Jeongguk admits. But he doesn’t even chance a glance, not keen to see your worsening scowl. “Remembering you just made me so miserable? Like, thinking about you all the time made me miss you all the time. And missing you made me so fucking sad– like the kind of sad you can feel? Like it hurt to think about you. But you never left my head, so the hurt never went away…”
 Jeongguk’s words slowly come to halt, his cheeks reddening to a bright cherry when he realizes that he’s rambling. As he’s mentally trying to dull his blush to something more faint and less conspicuous, he notes that your expression changed. You still look a bit angry, but now, there’s a pastel hue. A soft, muted sadness toning down the harshness. 
 He stumbles a little when he says, “I– Truthfully– I guess the–” Then he takes a quick, staccato breath mid-sentence to get himself together. “I guess the most truthful explanation for why I took so long is… avoidance? And guilt? Fear?” 
 When he frustratedly combs a hand through his hair, he pretends not to notice how it’s shaking. And he’s grateful that you don’t mention it when you track his movement. 
 The conversation gets stuck in a momentary limbo while Jeongguk thinks about what he said. It’s the truth. He was scared before– it’s what got him in this mess and it’s what kept him away for weeks too long. But he’s still scared. Despite getting the most intimidating part over with –actually coming to you after finally working up the nerve to– the fear of fucking up still hasn’t waned. 
 He’s still just as scared as he was. 
 Scared of saying the wrong thing. Of not being able to put what he feels into the right words. Of not being able to convey how truly fucking sorry he is for hurting you, how much he regrets it. He’s scared of hurting you again. Scared of you not forgiving him for the first time he did. 
 He is still just as scared of lying in the bed that he made.
 Jeongguk digs his fingertips into his thighs and his nails are dull, but he does it hard enough for a minute pang of discomfort to still be felt. He makes himself puff out a lame chuckle. It sounds strained and resembles a scoff more than anything, but he’s trying to lighten the mood; make the air in the room lighter and easier to breathe. 
 “I’m sorry,” he says on the tail end of the scoffing chuckle, shaking his head lightly. His voice has a light waver, shaky due to his nerves. “I– I’m just–”
 When he feels your small hand settle over the one he has working into his leg, his head whips up quickly and a reactive reflex almost has him pulling his hand away.
 But he stops himself before, and he’s so happy he does. Because when the initial shock wears off, your touch feels good. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy he catches himself because your touch feels nice and when he looks up from it, he gets to see you. 
 It’s like you stopped hiding and came out from behind that veil. Or maybe it’s an accident and you just forgot to keep it up. Either way, it doesn’t matter because he gets to see you watching him so artlessly, so openly honest. With a look that feels like a reminder. 
 A reminder that your heart has always been so soft, so sweet– that it still is. Softer than the hand you have settled gently over his and sweeter than its touch when you coax his own into being gentle, too, but with himself. A reminder that you’ve always been soft, sweet– that you still are. You look at him –softly; sweetly– like you’re reminding him that you’re still you. 
 It makes his eyes water and he has to look away. The thin, pinstripes on his slacks blur together, blending into thick lines as unshed tears muddle his vision.
 “It’s okay, you can–” he hears you tell him, starting hushedly. You sound hesitant, like you’re not sure if you want to finish. “I… want to know what you’re trying to say. So– you can take your time... I’ll wait for you.” 
 And if someone asked Jeongguk to describe the ache that fills his chest at your words– he would tell them that it hurts like he imagines the kindest, most tender, undeserved compassion would.
 “It took me so long because I was a coward, ___,” he says quietly. But the word is spat from his mouth like something foul. “I was so scared of feeling the hurt and facing the guilt that came when I thought about you; what I did to you–” Shame runs through his veins and he shakes his head at how spineless he was– unable to face the consequences of his own actions. It’s humiliating to remember. 
 He’s still talking down to his lap when he admits, “I– just avoided it altogether. I was so busy trying to keep it away that I didn’t give much thought to owning up to everything. I didn’t even know where to begin or how to go about fixing things with you.” 
 Jeongguk’s not crying yet. With that being said, his vision is still bleary and his eyes are red-rimmed from fighting the stubborn tears. He turns the hand he still has underneath yours palm-up. Covers yours with his other on top. Your tiny hand sandwiched between his big ones. He tilts his head back, blinks the wet in his eyes away.
 “I wanted to so badly, though,” he tells you, bringing himself to look at you, “To fix things with you. To just try with you. It took me way too long to understand something that should have been common sense: That things don’t always happen the way you plan for them to; That pieces don’t just fall into place just because you want them to. If I want something… It takes effort to make it happen. I have to work for it and try my best to put the pieces where they belong.”
 Jeongguk gives you a small smile and your hand a little squeeze. “I needed someone’s help to figure some things out,” he rolls his eyes playfully, almost fondly exasperated by the memory. “Like how to start altering the way I think and how to stop with all the wallowing and self-commiseration. How to stomach self-reflection. But when it finally clicked and I really got it? Fixing things with you was the only thing I wanted to do.” 
 There’s a tiny flicker of something coming back. A sanguine glimmer replaces the chagrin in Jeongguk’s eyes and you try to mirror it, reflect it back to him. Because the things he’s saying all sound so good. Perfect and promising and like everything you could have hoped for. 
 But when he says the thing about needing someone’s help? Anything he said before gets repressed. Unclear and hard to recall, as if his words are stuck inside a wayward memory. Anything he says after is indistinct. Muffled and hard to hear, as if there’s water stuck inside your ears. Similar to the rot that’s stuck inside your heart; ugly and hard to get rid of. 
 Such a gross, sickly feeling suddenly comes over you. 
 It takes so much effort to swallow it down. The green-washed insecurity that’s wanting to crawl up your throat and out your mouth. Masquerading as untrusting accusations that will make you seem paranoid. Heartsick questions that will leave you too vulnerable. 
 Who was it? Was it her? Was Dasom the one who helped you?
 Of course, she’s going to be a sore spot and you know that. But the thoughts fluster you and catch you a little off guard because it’s not like you to think like that. 
 It’s never been like you to be paranoid. To feel so self-conscious and easily threatened. You’ve never been the type to chastise. To interrogate, or pry. To accuse, or assume. 
 The doubt came from out of nowhere– crept its way into your head during a brief lapse of emotional awareness and into your heart when it erringly opened and was left unguarded. At first, quieting the intrusive thoughts and dispelling the negative feelings was a challenge. But in the end, you managed and it was fleeting and passed quickly.  
 Shaking the residual embarrassment that follows the bad thoughts and emotions, is much more difficult. 
 Unlike the momentary doubt, the sudden flash of insecurity that it comes with is so intense that it lingers, so strong that it fogs your head. It distractingly hangs out in the back of your mind making it hard to focus.
 It takes a few moments longer before you’re able to suppress it and push it down, down, down. Down far enough that you’ll be able to forget about it. At least for a short while, you’ll be able to convince yourself that the feelings won’t come back because it’s just not like you. 
 Wanting to omit it altogether, you gather your composure and fully give Jeongguk your attention again. You give him a small but genuine smile and wiggle your fingers that are still between his hands. 
 He smiles back softly, while you sit quietly. You’re working to piece together the things he said while you were lost in your head, trying to come up with a decent response. 
 “I was scared too,” you reveal quietly, “The whole time I was scared.” 
 “Will you tell me what you were scared of?”
 “There were so many things, Gguk.” You don’t tell him that there still are. Jeongguk nods attentively. You gingerly untangle your hand from his, catching his eyes before looking around your room. 
 “The finger thing was a really bad example,” you begin trying to explain. You shake your head with a sheepish smile, embarrassed and horrified at your past self. “and it wasn’t the actual act. It was more of what it meant that was scary for me? Like the fact that I let you do something that I always swore I would never let anyone do? Ever.”
 Laughing lightly, you think back on all of the times that your friends would make jokes. How they always told you that there would be a time that you would be horny enough to let it happen. The times when they had more class and said it was fine if you never wanted to and never did, but that they still thought you would end up giving in one day. For the right person, you would. 
 But you always remained adamant– so sure that nobody would ever make the act appealing enough, that nobody would ever make you feel comfortable enough with them for you to allow them to touch you like that or see you like that. 
 “But then I met you.”
 Jeongguk’s brows furrow slightly, like he doesn’t quite understand. But he just stays quiet and nods again, waiting for you to continue. And honestly, you can’t blame him. Anal should never be such a serious topic or something that feels like such a pivotal point in a relationship. You certainly wish that it wasn’t. 
 But alas.
 “All it took was a couple of months… Just a few soft touches and some dreamy words and I was putty in your hands.” Your hands that are folded lightly in your lap open up to show your palms before they squeeze shut into tight fists. “I feel like I would’ve done anything for you; anything you asked me to.”
 His features fall, and the expression he wears is laced with so much guilt. “Wait– Did I… make you feel like you had to do certain things?”
 You can’t help but smile at his concern as you shake your head sadly. “No, no… nothing like that– I always wanted to.”
 Jeongguk frowns, not certain of how truthful you’re being.
 Promising him that you’re not lying, you elaborate. “That’s part of why it was scary for me, I think. There was just something about you that made me so…I don’t know, willing? So yours?”
 The admission makes pesky pinpricks of tears sting the backs of your eyes. “And I was. I was so yours the whole time even though you weren’t mine–”
 “I was–” Jeongguk chimes softly. Interrupting, if only for the sake of trying to convince you.
 “Not really,” you argue. The tone you use comes across as somewhat detached. Like you’re just stating a fact. 
 Using the silence that nestles between you as an opportunity to think, you consider what you’re wanting to tell him. How vulnerable you’re willing to get. Your mouth opens before you feel like you’ve even made your decision.
 “I knew you liked me,” you acknowledge because you don’t want to be unfair, “but part of me always wondered: ‘how much does he?’ and ‘for how long will he?’. I was already scared that I was just a phase for you. Before Dasom ever said it.”
 Jeongguk tenses just a touch at the mention of his ex and you pretend not to notice, continuing with, “So when she said that I was just something you needed to get out of your system and you didn’t defend me? God, Jeongguk,” you get out, eyes squeezing shut. Wincing at the ghost of pain the memory brings back. “That hurt so much.”
 Despite your wanting to look him in the eye and come off strong while you relay how his actions made you feel; it’s impossible. Despite wanting to seem as though you’ve healed and grown and matured and like it just doesn’t hurt so bad anymore; you can’t face him.
 “And then everything happened so quickly?” you continue before he can get a word in, your words coming out rushed and frantic, “It felt like you didn’t even think about it, and like it was just so easy for you to let me go? Like I really was nothing just like she said–”
 He can’t stop himself from reaching out and quieting you when he hears the way your voice breaks. Jeongguk doesn’t want you to cry, not sure he could handle it if you did. Your hands are in your lap still, clenched together, so he rests a palm on your knee. 
 “___,” he says gently, “I need you to believe me when I tell you that none of that is true.”
 You keep talking like you don’t hear him.
 “It almost seemed like you were already over it, bored of me. And her saying those things was a convenient way to– ” you shake your head before sighing. “I was always scared that you’d end up getting tired of me, that you would stop wanting me and just get rid of me. And after what she said, it felt like you finally did. Like you used her words as an excuse so you could finally leave me.”
 “That’s not true, baby,” he reiterates, tongue slipping as he tries to console you again
 At the pet name you look up. Your red-rimmed eyes locking with his. 
 He stutters a bit as he backtracks, barely able to get out a stiff apology. 
 And your lips pull down in a deep frown, and your brows turn up confusedly. “You said you wanted to… fix things with me?”
 Jeongguk’s lips part, dim surprise taking over his face before he breathes a small yes.
 “I want that too,” you breathe back, “but I’m still so afraid Jeongguk.”
 “I know, I know you are– I am too–”
 “Not like me,” you counter, “You may be scared, but you’re not scared like me. You can’t be scared like me.” 
 Your words come out sharper than intended, too emotional for the facade you’re trying to portray. But you don’t dwell on the tone of your voice. Nor do you dwell on the brief ire that flickers in Jeongguk’s eyes. 
 “I’m scared that I’ll never catch up to you. You won’t ever know what that feels like because you’ll never be the one that’s worried about falling behind– you’re the one that’s ahead of the curve. I’m scared that I’m not good enough for you and Nari– that I can’t be. You have no reason to be scared of that.” 
 The fight to keep your voice level and in control dwindles. Every ounce of your pain can be heard as you let out the burdensome ache in your heart, little by little. 
 Each word is heavier than the last when you ask Jeongguk, “Why would you be afraid of not being good enough for someone who never made you question it?” 
 Jeongguk flinches. Visibly recoils as if your words are abrasive enough to hurt. 
 Which is what you wanted. You wanted to hurt him, but it doesn’t make you feel better like you anticipated. If anything his reaction makes your pain ricochet right back at you. Hurting him, hurting you.
 And then you consider that perhaps, you didn’t truly want him to hurt– that you might have just wanted him to be aware. To know what you’re scared of; how it hurts to be scared.  
 “Maybe you are scared, too,” you amend, “Maybe there are even a few things that we’re both afraid of… but being scared isn’t something we have in common.”
 The hurt from before is replaced by barely-hidden defensiveness. Jeongguk does try to hide it as he listens to you, though. You give him credit for that.
 “Being scared that you’ll realize that I actually am just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants, exactly like you thought, is a very specific fear,” you try to explain. “I’m scared that one day you’ll look at me but you won’t see me anymore– you’ll see a mistake that could have been avoided if you never came back. That I’ll cross your mind. But instead of thinking fondly… you’ll end up thinking about how you wish you had just stuck by your decision when you said you wouldn’t let me stay.”
 A defensive urge to argue the validity of his feelings comes naturally– he’s only human. His emotional side finds it unfair of you to determine, decide, and define his fears but the irony of the situation dawns on his logical side just as quickly. 
 The fact that you’re speaking to him in a manner that mirrors how he spoke to you all those months ago, doesn’t escape him. Instead, the similarities make him stop and think. Something he regrets not doing that night in his living room. 
 He concludes that arguing with you would be pointless. He knows you’re right and it doesn’t take him long to realize. 
 Yeah, Jeongguk’s scared. But just like you said– he’s not scared like you. Not scared of what you’re scared of. Jeongguk’s fears are more or less internal and he’s had a few of them for most of his adult life, since he became a father. Some of the fears may concern you in some way or another, but none of them manifested because of you or something you did or things you said. 
 He’s scared, but he’ll never be scared like you. Not when the things you’re afraid of only exist because of him. 
 The thought of it never going away, of you never being the same or free of the ache he caused, even after the insecurities and fears are dug up by the root– it makes Jeongguk feel like he’s going to be sick. 
 “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you end up saying after a few moments of watching Jeongguk struggle to get words out. “And I know you regret it. You showing up here proves that.”
 The small, sad smile you give him is too kind for what he did.
 “I thought I was doing the right thing,” Jeongguk says, “For you, for Nari. I never thought– I’m so sorry, ___.”
 “I know,” you reassure, gently. 
 And you truly do know how sorry Jeongguk is. He obviously doesn’t have the words to express his remorse, but sincerity is written all over his face. His big doe-eyes dark and glassy and so genuine. Full of regret; the longing to go back and undo what can’t be undone. Somehow so full of warmth, just like you remember. 
 “I don’t want to fight anymore,” you say. 
 It doesn’t sound like you’re at your wit’s end or like you feel as if the conversation has reached it’s breaking point. Just sounds like what it means. Like you don’t want to fight. Not with him. Not with yourself. Not with what you’ve been wishing for since you lost it. 
 Jeongguk agrees, nodding. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it a fight. I want you to be able to talk to me about–” He’s flighty, moving his hands all about, like he’s nervous and has too many things he wants to say. “about everything, really. So, I promise, I’ll just listen–”
 You watch him for a few more seconds, letting the corners of your lips turn up just so. Then you reach for his hands, ceasing their movement with your own. 
 “Shush,” you laugh faintly, “There’s still a lot we have to talk about. So much– we can’t get through it all with one conversation. It’s gonna take a lot of them and a long time, probably. But I think we’ve covered the most important stuff, right?”
 You’re aware it’s going to take time to get through the maze of problems you and Jeongguk have created between each other.
 But you can’t help but think about all time that you wasted while making them. 
 And you don’t want to waste even more time by waiting till everything is figured out before you start letting yourself get past it. You don’t want to hinder the process of moving forward by getting lost trying to navigate the maze. Not when you’ve finally made your way back to each other. 
 So while the labyrinth hasn’t been solved, and all your issues haven’t been fixed, at least now, you don’t have to do it alone. You can resolve everything and find a way out together. 
 It’s possible that you’re too willing to push things aside, that you’re too keen to move past it all. That you’re not standing your ground, being too easy and too soft, too quick. That you’re not giving yourself enough time to consider what you haven’t touched on yet. To process what you have. 
 But as you told Jeongguk, you feel like what needed to be addressed has been. With time, everything else will be talked about. Which is enough for you and your eager heart. You don’t want to wait anymore, not when you’ve been waiting so long already.
 Jeongguk’s wearing a flush when you grin at him and he looks down at the pair of your hands, still slightly entangled on your duvet. His thumb rubs softly over your knuckles while he says, “If you’re sure?”
 Vaguely aware of Jeongguk absently toying with your fingers while he awaits your reply, you think it over just for the sake of it and end up remembering something.
 You hum musingly, making sure he can hear the smile you decorate it with. An attempt to diffuse the heavy air in your room till it’s something more buoyant; lighthearted and easier to breathe. You curl your manicured finger around one of his, trapping it briefly before untangling both your hands.
 “Actually,” you start. 
 So very attentive, Jeongguk whips his head up. 
 “Now that I think about it, you told me why it took you so long,” you reflect, “But you didn’t tell me why now.”
 Jeongguk opens his mouth to reply before he’s furrowing his brows, puzzled, pursing his lips into a line. It’s quiet while he thinks.
 A weak, hopeless simper sounds, and he shakes his head while running a hand through his hair. “Again, I wish I had a better answer for you.”
 You roll your eyes and change positions, now sitting criss-cross in front of him. “Okay, well, you didn’t just randomly show up! There had to have been something that made you come now; today.”
 Light, but genuine laughter rings in your room– it starts off sounding like it’s accidental, cut-off chuckles only heard because the person laughing can’t hold it in, and it ends as cute giggles that lilt throughout the space softly. 
 And it’s all Jeongguk’s fault. 
 “No,” he says, around a breathy giggle, “I really did. I probably shouldn’t admit that, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I ended up caving and looking at your–” 
 It’s now your fault that sounds of amusement continue to filter in the air– Jeongguk’s eyes getting wide and his face turning pink is too funny and you can’t not laugh at him.
 He stutters when he tries to backtrack, “Y… Your– pictures? On my phone? In my camera roll?” 
 You narrow your eyes suspiciously, impishly. “Which of my pictures, hmm?”
 The flush coloring his cheeks runs down to his chest, the silver LV pendant of his necklace would probably be warm if you reached out and touched it. He would probably be warm too if you reached out and touched him.
 “No! Oh my god, not those! I did not look at those, okay? Anyway,” he rushes out, “I really was on my way to work! But add a couple of turns and a few steps–” he shrugs, “I guess now because I physically couldn’t keep myself from you any longer? Because then I was at your door and now I’m here. With you.”
 The giggles have finally ceased, and now it’s just your paired breathing that acts as low background noise while you both take the other in.
 “Now you’re here with me,” you repeat softly, with an even softer smile.
 Jeongguk’s eyes drop to your lips for the briefest of moments. He darts his tongue out to wet his own.
 “___. You were right,” he tells you, “It didn’t have to be all or nothing like I thought it did.”
 You nod once.
 “I’m sorry for not listening to you. For deciding for you and not letting you make your own choices. And for not even letting you explain your side that night. For how bad I hurt you and for all the things the hurt caused.”
 “Okay,” you breathe.
 “I should have listened to you.”
 Again, you nod.
 “I should have chosen you.”
 It’s almost instantaneous when tears well in your eyes.
 “But I was so scared of the way I wanted you and how badly I wanted it,” Jeongguk confesses, “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you before. For anybody.”
 Mild confusion makes a home in your eyes.
 He expects it before he sees it stir your features, so he’s not surprised when it appears. He finds himself smiling. Maybe because he’s wanted to tell you that since he realized it. Or maybe he wants to finally do what he should have done the night of the fight, and even before then. 
 Jeongguk smiles at your uncertainty because this time, he gets to make it go away. He gets to reassure you of your place in his life, of how important you are to him. Of how you’re worth trying for. He’s quick to shush you when your lips part to speak. 
 “No one,” he insists, “You’re so different, ___. And I feel so differently for you. I feel different when I’m with you. That’s part of why I was afraid. I was scared to want you because I didn’t know how to have you.”
 Tears are making his eyes gleam, glassy in the morning light that streams through your blinds. Yours are a mirror and you don’t know how you’ve kept the drops from spilling over.
 “I’m still fucking scared,” he admits, “Like you said, we’re both still scared. Because we have no god damn clue how this will turn out. If we’ll even be able to fix it and get back to the way we were. Who might be collateral damage if we can’t. If one of us will end up changing our mind. Or if we’ll end up even better; if we –me and you, together– will be the only thing that we’re sure about.”
 The urge to tell him that you’ve been sure ever since you found his round little bug of a baby in your grocery store is so strong– you think you may burst because of it. Maybe the lovestruck feeling in your chest has gone supernova. 
 “I have no clue about anything other than the fact that I want to be with you, ___.”  
 Let the record show that between you and him, Jeongguk is the one to let the first tear fall during this conversation.
 “I want to try.” 
 “Yeah–”
 “If you’ll let me, I want to try for you. And if you’ll have me, I want to try with you. Because if we don’t at least try– I think I’ll wish that we did forever.”
 When you beam at him and exhale a simple, ‘Okay’ and Jeongguk echoes it, he thinks this is all too easy.
 But then he remembers how everything with you has always been that way. Maybe not too easy, but just right. Concerning you, the hardest thing he’s had to do is be without. 
 He brings your hand to his lips, brushing your knuckles with a sweet, kiss. “I want to be with you,” he tells you again.
 You bite your lip to suppress your smile. “Then be with me.”
 This time he’s the one saying ‘Okay’ and you’re the one echoing.
 Until backtrack with a pout. “What… what am I? Like– to you.”
 “What do you want to be?”
 “Yours.” 
 Your answer is breathed so quickly, like you didn’t even have to think about it to know that’s what you wanted. Like that’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted. How fast you reply gives Jeongguk butterflies. Makes him giddy while he tries to calm himself as he confirms, “Mine,” before he adds quietly, a little shy, “I’ll introduce you as… my girlfriend?”
 Jeongguk is so endeared when you close your eyes, wistful when you ask him to say it again in an airy voice. 
 “My girlfriend,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in his.
 When you open your eyes to look at him and he sees unshed tears heavy on your lashline, his heart pulls in his chest and it breaks a little when you murmur, “I didn’t know if I would ever hear you say that.” 
 “I’m sorry it took me so long.”
 A teardrop escapes the corner of your eye when you shake your head, smiling so sweetly, so happily. Jeongguk’s distracted, just taking it in and getting lost in everything that is you. So much so, that he doesn’t see it coming. Not until your arms are wrapped around his neck, his reflexively coming up to wrap around your waist like muscle memory. 
 Jeongguk takes a deep breath when he has you in his arms, nuzzles his nose into your hair. Pulls you impossibly closer, and he can feel how he squeezes the air out of you when you puff out a dulcet laugh into the crook of his neck. 
 When you bring your hand to the back of his head, the feel of your nails on his scalp and your fingers in his hair is enough to make him sigh, sink into the touch. It’s familiar. Feels like a natural progression, just like the way your cheeks brush when you pull away just slightly, only to come back. Closer this time. 
 His nose bumps yours, and he inhales your shaky sigh. 
 “I…”
 “Yeah?” Jeongguk breathes. 
 The shift is swift. The temperament of the atmosphere smoothly transforms– going from something saccharine and tenderly sentimental to something decadently rich and heavy. The air all at once becomes thick and intoxicatingly heady; plush and ardently warm. 
 The build-up is gradual. At first, the sudden heady note of warmth that makes your room hazy just feels like a blanket. Like it covers softly, tickles the skin lightly. Then it begins to seep in so slowly, gradually, that it’s not noticeable until the heat of it can be felt bone deep. Until fingers shake with the desire to touch. 
 It starts with Jeongguk nosing along your jaw; down the length of your neck when you tilt your head to the side for him. It starts with the occasional, accidental brush of his lips against your skin. It starts with your hand gripping tight in his hair, a subtle try at pulling him in to keep him near. 
 It ends with a kiss.
 Albeit, a fleeting one– but still a kiss nonetheless. 
 Pulling himself back, Jeongguk’s features are tensed. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted as he struggles with himself. He’s rough when he gets a hold of you by your waist. His fingers digging in harshly; almost like he doesn’t realize how he’s handling you. But he’s gentle when pushes you away to put some space between you. 
 “Why–” you whisper, needy, as you bring your palms to cover his grip at your waist. You pet at the backs of his hands, coaxing him into letting them roam. You guide his touch down to your hips when he gives in briefly, encouraging him to touch you.  
 “I don’t know if– Maybe we shouldn’t–” 
 You crowd his space, bringing yourself to your knees and pushing his palms down to where the hem of your too-big sweatshirt grazes high on your bare thigh. Jeongguk groans after he loses his short internal battle. Can’t rob himself of squeezing at the meat of your thighs just for a second before he’s trying to pull his hands from yours.
 He doesn’t get very far because you end up cradling his face in your hands, angling his head up to look at you. And Jeongguk’s always been so easy for you. It’s no surprise how easily he yields to the movement; how easy his eyes slip shut. How easily he parts his lips when your tongue teases the seam; how easy it is to get lost in the taste of you. 
 “Shouldn’t what, Gguk?” you ask in a soft voice. Each word spoken between the kisses you’re trailing down the column of his neck.
 Jeongguk keeps his hands mostly to himself. Awkwardly letting them hover by your sides as he searches his brain, trying to recall the reason why he’s clinging to his resolve. It is so hard though, when you’re right in front of him. So willing and eager to let him have you. He finds himself following your lips when you barely let the plush center graze his cupid’s bow. 
 “Maybe we should… take it slow?” he offers, dazedly. It wasn’t supposed to sound like a question, but Jeongguk can’t help the way his voice carries up at the tail end like he’s not sure that’s really what he wants. 
 A little giggle falls from your lips, puffs hotly over his. And Jeongguk’s never thought you evil before, but right now he’s certain that you are. Because, with wistful mirth still in your voice, all you do is nod like you’re simply humoring him and say, “Yeah, maybe.”
 Then you kiss him again, sighing a delicate, ‘Touch me’ against his lips.
 You bring his awkward hands to your body, placing them on your tits, urging him to cup and squeeze over your sweatshirt. 
 Jeongguk exhales shakily, unable to keep himself from rolling them in his palms. 
 “Yeah,” you whisper, “Please.”
 His hold on your chest turns rough, accidentally letting his pent-up frustration out through his touch and taking it out on you. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but you still whine. Let out a high, airy keen as your eyes slip shut and your head tilts back. 
 There’s no warning. Only Jeongguk’s hands moving to your shoulders, followed by a push and then a tumble, ending with you on your back and Jeongguk hovering over you. He’s got your wrists pinned by your head, and he looks down at you with dark eyes. The frustration in them juxtaposes the surprise in yours. 
 “You know that’s not fair, ___,” he chides. His tone is harsh, trying to sound stern, maybe angry– but there’s a slight waver in his voice that tells you he’s struggling to stay collected. 
 Fussily, you squirm under him. You tug against the hold he has on your wrists, only for him to squeeze tighter. You cant your hips in an attempt to rub up against his, only for Jeongguk to just lift them higher. A laugh of incredulity pairs the disbelief on his face when he glances between your wiggling frame and your irritated pout. 
 “I’m trying to do things right,” he explains around his bemusement, as he roughly presses your wrists deeper into the mattress. “I’m trying to be good.”
 You stare up at him with pinched brows. He looks so pretty above you. Flushed a pretty pink with his lips parted and plumped by the kisses you managed to steal. A stray, misplaced strand of hair flutters with his heavy breathing. His eyes keep flitting down to your lips, and you can physically see how much he wants you; how hard it is for him to fight it.
 When he finally lowers his body to yours, it’s almost defeatedly. Jeongguk gives in and just rests his weight on you. Presses himself against you, hot and hard between your legs. Finding his place easily when you open up and make room for him.
 He keeps that pressure on his cock while he exhales a trembling, almost relieved sigh. His nose brushes yours but when you tilt your head to connect your lips, he pulls back. He does it again, taunting you with almost-kisses until you’re craning your neck again.
 He doesn’t kiss you back when he lets your lips connect. In fact, you can feel how he purses his stubbornly. You stay determined, unswayed by his resistance. Your soft kisses inch from his mouth to pepper cute, all over his blushing skin. The scar on his cheek, the bridge of his nose. The just barely off-center freckle beneath his bottom lip. When your palm naturally settles on his neck, fingertips over his pulse point, you let out a breathy noise of wonder when you feel how fast his heart is racing. 
 And he feels his cock kick shamefully in his pants, letting out a breathy noise of his own. You feel it too and you coo, soft and fond, as you trail your other hand down his spine until it’s flat on the small of his back, pressing encouragingly. 
 Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Jeongguk hangs his head to get closer to you. He bites gently at the pudge of your cheek, letting his teeth drag lightly until he’s mouthed hot, all the way to your ear.  
 “Why won’t you let me be good?” he whispers. 
 He croons prettily against the shell of your ear before he nips teasingly at your earlobe. A heat curls in your belly, making you suck in a short, whiny breath. The insides of your thighs clamp tight around his frame. 
 “Be good to me,” you gasp, arching up into him.
 Jeongguk moans quietly and buries his face in your neck when he can’t stop his hips from stuttering into a clumsy rhythm. Sloppily rutting his cock over your panties, uncoordinated and eager.
 Maybe he’s overly sensitive, hyperaware of your body underneath him, but when you begin to roll your hips, meeting his and matching his pace– he can feel how the little bit of added pressure has you opening up for him. Just enough for his hard-on to slide between, barely pillowed by your panty-covered pussylips. Even through the clothing, he can feel the difference. Like he knows you can. 
 He hears the unexpected moan you let out when you feel his cock rut over your clit and he feels the way your nails dig into his back at the sudden enhanced pleasure before he shifts to rest on his forearms so he can see too. 
 And what a pretty sight you are. 
 Eyes hazy and heavy, half-lidded as you look down your body to where he’s making you feel good. Cheeks flushed a rosy pink with arousal and maybe a little bit of abashment when you glance up at him and see him already watching you. You give him a small, shy grin before letting your eyes flutter closed. Basking in how he’s making you feel, your mouth falling open in a silent moan.  
 As he takes you in, his lips part with a low groan. His own pleasure coming from pleasuring you; heightened by every noise, look, and movement you make. Jeongguk gets such a specific satisfaction and gratification from making you feel good. From being good to you.
 “Is this what you want?” Jeongguk whispers, slowing down some. He settles into a steadier pace, rutting his cock up and down on your cunt with slow, lazy drags. 
 He grins to himself because of how quick you are to nod and let him know that, yes, this is what you want. His hand comes up to smooth some of the flyaways that have sprouted from your squirming and he cups your cheek when your turn into his touch. 
 “Hmm?” he prompts, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 
 You huff, annoyed, and he can’t help but coo, smitten. 
 “Yeah– yes I want this, but I–,” you start off strong. You hold his gaze until shyness wins and has you focusing on the necklace dangling from his neck. The LV sways some as he continues to rock his hips. “I want more, too.”
 “Yeah?” Jeongguk asks, a smile lacing his dreamy tone. He gives a quick, soft peck to your red-bitten lips in lieu of letting you answer. “I know you do,” he tells you, murmurs it with open-mouthed kisses against your throat. He pulls at the neck of your sweatshirt, draws a violet into your collarbone, using his lips as the pen. Then he tugs the thin skin between his teeth briefly, making you inhale harshly before he kisses it better. 
 “Gonna take care of you,” he promises, “take my time with you.”
 Jeongguk proceeds at his own languid speed, lingering on every new inch of skin that’s revealed as he rids you of your sweatshirt. Of your panties. 
 He allows you your own pace as well. 
 Doesn’t spur you on when you’re slow to open up his dress shirt, doesn’t goad you into nimble quickness when your fingers stumble and it takes you far longer than it should to undo all the buttons. He doesn’t hurry you when your touch drags over his skin, or when your palms falter at his shoulders, or when your fingertips lag all the way down his arms when you finally slide the button-up off. When your shaky hands bide their time, hesitating at the buckle of his belt, he doesn’t rush you. 
 Jeongguk takes his time –and lets you take yours– as if time itself doesn’t exist when it’s passing between the both of you. As if each moment that comes and each moment that goes is inconsequential because moments are meaningless and time is simply a concept when forever is right now. 
 Nothing really matters and there’s no need to rush when he’s in your hands and you’re in his arms and forever is in his heart.  
 “Not yet,” he lilts, grabbing your wrists and sliding the flat of your palms up his tummy and away from his waistline. 
 “But I–”
 “But I–” he flirts coyly. 
 Your mouth opens to argue, but the words never get a voice. His mien makes the words in your throat fall mute and causes a feeling of wistfulness to rouse in your heart.  
 Knelt on his knees between your legs, smiling down at you, playful and flirty. Happy. Wearing a pink full-body flush– Jeongguk is stunning. Distractingly so. 
 He’s glowing; gentle yet radiant. A quiet fondness reflected in his eyes as he looks at you with that well-worn adoration of his. It’s a familiar affection. One that you’ve missed, yearned for, and memorized– one that you’ve tried to unlearn and tried to forget, too, because of how much it ached to remember. 
 Nostalgia is a wonted thing that taints good memories until it hurts to remember them. It warped the memory of Jeongguk’s adoration until even just a fleeting thought about it hurt. It made you want to wipe your memory clean just to be freed from the yearning.
 But with him looking at you the way he is, with that same raw adoration, you can’t fathom how you wanted to forget how it made you feel. How it still makes you feel. Because how good does it feel to be adored? How good does it feel to be wanted? How good does it feel to be finally his? 
 You dig your nails into his skin at the thought, and his tummy tenses. His grip on your wrists tightens and he lets out a soft hiss, the sound buoyed by a light, airy chuckle.
 His thumbs run over the pulse points in your wrists. “Lean against the headboard for me? Get comfy?”
 Cushioned by a few pillows, you do as he says, sinking into the down. Your knees are bent, and your arms are wrapped over your middle, now hyper-aware of how exposed you are comparatively. 
 Jeongguk’s top half is just as bare as you, only his necklace still on. But even though his lower body is covered, his bottoms are unforgiving. Dark slacks belted at his hips, the slight dip by his hipbones accentuated and his v-lines disappearing into the waistband where his cock is tucked away. Too hard and heavy to disguise, clothes doing almost nothing.  
 Not that he’s trying to hide it much at all. He’s palming himself casually, his touch light and his eyes dark. Tracking your movements while he waits for you to get settled. 
 When you are, Jeongguk makes his way to you, his hands resting on your knees as he lets his gaze roam. From your eyes to your lips, to your pillowy tits, to your closed legs. You feel a light pressure, almost tentative like he’s asking for permission with his touch.
 He’s on his best behavior though, so he asks you as well. And when you hear how his voice comes out a little deeper, with an almost imperceptible tremble, as he gently asks, “Can I?”,  your lashes flutter and your thighs reflexively press together, before you let him guide them open. 
 Time isn’t real, but any time in your bed shouldn’t go to waste. So he swiftly resituates himself, resting between your spread legs with his lips naturally finding their place on your neck, his hands on your skin. 
 Jeongguk’s quick, but attentive, as he relocates his mouth. The spit from his kiss marks leave a faint, wet trail from where they start at your neck down to the swell of your tits. He sighs when he gets a hold of them, jiggling a bit and squeezing. He glances at you through his lashes, as he plays your nipples, teasing them till they’re hardened by his touch. He smiles to himself when he sees you bring your bottom lip between your teeth to keep quiet.
 When he uses his lips to tease, he hears you sigh an airy, pleased sound. He’s smug as he swirls his tongue, flicks lightly over the stiff little peak. You take a deep breath, your chest expanding and pushing into him, before it’s released in a stuttery exhale. When you get a hold of his hair, the strands curl around your fingers, softly, like how you hold him close and cradle him to your chest. 
 He gives the paired nipple the same attention. Has you mewling prettily with each lick and suck. Whining with each bite and tug. 
 As he follows the length of your body, he does so with small, suctioning bites. A little nip just below your sternum, a little nip under your ribs. One at the softest part of your lower belly, right next to the pink heart of your belly ring. He gives the jewel a tiny, baby kiss.
 “This is the same one that you had in the first time we…” he stammers, too aware of the blush that simmers just under his skin at the thought. “We… you know… right?”
 Jeongguk’s laying on his front, his head resting against your inner thigh. His arms wrapped around your legs, resting on your belly. The tattooed fingers of his right hand absently toy with the dangly part of the jewelry. 
 Something warms you from the inside, pleasantly surprised by the mushy, lovesick feeling that washes over you. Your heart beats, rapid in your chest, and you wonder if Jeongguk can feel the whirlwind of butterflies in your tummy under his palms. 
 You nod, blushingly and shy. “Yeah, it’s… yeah.”
 “Just as cute as I remember,” he nods back. The puffs under Jeongguk’s eyes form when he smiles and adds, “This one is my favorite… Gonna make you feel good now, okay?”
 He says it so casually, that you want to laugh a little, but the anticipation it sparks makes you tense. Your pussy clenches on nothing, and you can feel that tell-tale heartbeat pulse between your legs. 
 “Okay… yeah…” you whisper dumbly, trying to hide how eager you are. You slowly open your legs a little wider so you can see him better, so he can touch you better. 
 Jeongguk switches from having one of his hands wrapped around your thigh to it resting palm down on your mons. He uses his thumb to lightly run along your plump folds, up and down. His eyes are fixed on your pussy, and his tongue peeks out to wet his lips a little before he nibbles on the inside of his lip, a soft smile making the corners curl. 
 “Just as cute as I remember,” he says again, his tone playful and a little wistful this time. He kisses just above your slit.
 Past lovers had said your cunt was pretty or maybe perfect when they found themselves between your legs, but Jeongguk has always called your pussy cute. It’s just a thing he does. And you don’t know why, but it never fails to make you blush, a little giddy and shy– something just so simple and sweet about his word of choice. 
 Even now, it has you wiggling and trying to inch your legs closed as you bring your hands up to hide your face. It’s whiny, but you both know you don’t really mean it when you say, “Stooooop” the word dragged out and laced with pleased flattery.
 You can feel Jeongguk’s warm laughter puff over your cunt as he urges you to keep your legs spread. He hums as the giggles subside and says, “Don’t be shy now, I’m just getting started.”
 A wistful sigh sounds, and it’s soft and cute and taunting when you say, “Okay well, hurry up.”
 You shift slightly here and there to get more comfortable, running a hand through your hair as you resist the urge to smile back at Jeongguk when he gives you a look. When you bring your arm down from your hair, Jeongguk snags it, guiding your hand to your cunt. But when you start to play yourself he stops you, tuttingly.
 “Don’t touch, just– open up for me,” he instructs, “Show me.”
 Jeongguk groans under his breath when you do as he says. When he stroked over your pussy lips just a moment ago, they were plush and smooth, soft to the touch with your arousal tucked neatly between your folds. But with them spread, he can see how you’re glossy with slick; so dewy when he’s barely even touched you. 
 “You’re already so wet. How long have you been like this, hmm?” he wonders aloud, gathering a small bit of the sticky clear at your opening with his finger before just barely pushing it inside. Kind of like he’s trying to put the little droplet back where it came from; not let it go to waste. Then he brings his touch to your clit and your pussy slick aids the up and down swipes of his thumb. 
 “Ah– fuck,” you faintly gasp. 
 Jeongguk’s cock pulses as you bring your other hand down, using both to spread yourself open more and pull back the hood of your clit. Making sure his touch is direct and the sensation feels as good as possible. The thought of you already being so greedy for pleasure is enough for him to leak, precum surely leaving a wet patch in his briefs. 
 Even though he’s being gentle, when he rubs over your exposed clit, you shy away from his touch despite being so fiendish for it. Jeongguk babies you with a coo because he knows that you’re probably so sensitive. You gave yourself almost no time to warm up, afterall. 
 “Too much?” he asks you.
 With a shake of your head, you say, “No, no… just– slowly, please.”
 Your words make him smile and he gives your inner thigh a honeyed kiss for being so good. The smile lingers because slow is the pace he always intended to use, at your request or not. It’s how he intends to finish you too. For the first time, at least. 
 Jeongguk keeps that slow speed until your body relaxes and another few drops of clear slick drip for your cunt. The thumb of his other hand rubs softly over your taint as he collects what you leak and tucks it back inside. Your pussy clenches and your hole puckers at the sensation every time, and it makes him fucking throb. 
 The thumb on your clit only speeds up enough for it to not be torturous or agonizingly slow, the pace satisfying but remaining lax and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world. Once he finds a good rhythm, he keeps the motions constant and consistent.
 When you start to get antsy and fidget, he smiles to himself knowingly. 
 “Feels good, baby?” he asks you, and when you nod, he whispers, “Yeah? Look so pretty…”
 And you didn’t lie. It does feel good. But he doesn’t go any faster. He doesn’t push the fingers at your opening in any farther. And after a handful of seconds that feel like minutes that feel like hours– there still isn’t any indication that he plans to.  
 When you roll your hips, trying to hint at what you want, Jeongguk stops you with a scolded tsk, telling you to stay still. The sound you let out is frustrated and petulant.
 There’s a taunting note in Jeongguk’s voice when he says, “I thought you said it feels good?”
 “It does,” you tell him, “But– faster?”
 Jeongguk’s expression is entertained, chuffed even. “I told you I was gonna take my time with you. Need you to be patient for me, baby–”
 “Please–”
 “Hush, ___.” 
 There’s still lingering amusement in his tone, but there’s also a sharpness, a hint of disapproval and something stern that wasn’t there before. It’s enough of a warning to silence the begging on the tip of your tongue. 
 “I’ll get you there, baby,” he says, his voice sweet again. “It’ll feel so good, I promise.”
 It’s quiet for a moment. Then–
 “I changed my mind, it doesn’t feel good.”
 Jeongguk doesn’t even look up from your pussy when he asks a preoccupied, “No?” Then he peeks at you, and when you give a pouty nod he hums. It’s smiling and mirthful when he dismisses you. “Well, don’t worry. It will soon.”
 Jeongguk is content between your thighs, still playing with your clit slowly. He only checks on you when your squirming mostly stops and you become suspiciously mute. 
 He snorts when he sees you scowling at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” After a few seconds with no response, he continues with, “Oh, so you’re going to be difficult now?”
 You shrug, snooty. 
 Laughing, he asks, “You’re really gonna act like it doesn’t feel good?” The corners of his lips curl softly and his eyes narrow like he’s scrutinizing you. His head tilts a little when he continues with, “Like you’re not leaking, right now? Like you wouldn’t be making a mess on your sheets if I wasn’t helping you?”
 Jeongguk watches your cheeks steadily turn a deep pink at his words until you look away from him, turning your nose in the air. You probably would have covered your face with your hands to avoid his gaze had they not been occupied.
 He chuckles again when he’s only met more silence. Just the slightest squirm when he tucks another leaked droplet back into your cunt. To make a point.
 “That’s okay, you can be mad at me as long as you’re patient, too,” he says, tone grossly fond and a perfect example of the patience he wants from you. “Still gonna make you cum. Still gonna be good to you and give you what you want.”
 And it seems what people say about patience being a virtue and all that, is true. Because just like Jeongguk said, with just a bit more time and some decorum, it does start to feel even better.   
 Like the way he’s been touching you, the come-up is slow and steady. The hot waves of pleasure that ebb in your lower belly. The rise and fall of your chest that gradually gets faster. The noises that get harder and harder to keep in. 
 Jeongguk doesn’t need to hear you, though, to know he’s getting you there. But he’s enjoying this brattier side of you –he remembers you being difficult every now and then, but overall you were always so good for him; never fought him too hard on things– so he humors you by asking, “Starting to feel nice, baby?”
 Everso tart, you shrug again, looking off to the side. 
 Still, Jeongguk doesn’t need to see your face to know he’s getting you there. Your pussy is a whistleblower, telling him everything he needs to know. Your cunt– leaking non-stop, contracting constantly. Your tiny clit– now puffy and swollen from all his attention. 
 Your fingers holding your pussy lips apart for him have a mild tremor. Your brows are arched when you finally give him your attention again, watching his thumb swipe up and down, over and over again. Your legs are beginning to tremble beside him. Your head is lulling back, and your lungs are exhaling a lewd sigh. 
 “I– I’m close,” you whisper, breathlessly.
 Jeongguk purrs, is just about to tease you and your stubbornness with something along the line of ‘Really? Thought it didn’t feel good, ___’. But he doesn’t get the chance because of how close the string in you is to snapping. How it’s pulled so taut that it has you near tears, that slow and steady come-up finally peaking.
 “Oh my god, Gguk– my– my pussy’s gonna cum,” you cry quietly, legs shaking as you struggle to keep them open.
 “Mhm, I told you, baby,” he hums, smug, “Let me see how good it feels.”
 Your face is turned into your shoulder, but you nod for him. Focusing on the ruining, slow, consistent rubbing of his thumb. The pleasure is so mind-numbingly good that, as much as you want to cum, you try to make it last as long as possible. 
 Which isn’t much longer at all, only a few more vertical swipes over your clit is all you can handle before you’re mewing a soft warning and cumming so hard your body convulses.
 “That’s my girl. So pretty, baby. Did so good; always such a good girl for me,” Jeongguk praises, full of lust-filled awe as he watches you finish. He feels your clit pulsing under his thumb and he sees your cunt squeezing repeatedly around nothing and now he that he’s not preventing it, he sees how your pussy cums– leaking everything that he tucked away and dripping down to your sheets. Making a mess like he knew it would.
 He continues to rub your clit until your body twitches, curling in on yourself as you close your legs and bring them to your chest. Wrapping your arms around the backs of your knees and pulling your legs to your chest, you curl into yourself for protection as Jeongguk moves to shed himself of the rest of his clothes. Then he sits on his heels while he watches you, amused. 
 Even though you’ve made a great attempt at hiding your pussy away, with the way you’re positioned it still peeks out from between your thighs. Puffy and shiny. 
 You’re on your back with your eyes closed, still catching your breath. The feel of Jeongguk’s hands on you makes you jump, and when his touch moves form the backs of your thighs closer to your sensitive cunt, you whine, kicking at his arms weakly.
 “Shh,” he murmurs, “I won’t touch, I just want to look.”
 Somewhat soothed by his words, you begin to shift to a more relaxed position but Jeongguk pushes your legs back together and your knees back to your chest. 
 You gripe at being manhandled. “What if I want to see, too?” 
 “You don’t need to see if I tell you what I see,” Jeongguk reasons.
 “It’s mine,” you argue.
 “Ours,” he corrects.
 After telling Jeongguk that he’s dumb and asking him to please shut up, both of you dissolve into a fit of laughter. When you kick again, trying to get his shoulder as punishment, he gets a grip on your leg before you can land the hit and he kisses your ankle. You sigh.
 It’s quiet, and you’re content letting Jeongguk pet at you, listening as he tells you about what he sees. He says cute a few times. Wet, messy. His fingers brush over your folds, even plumper than before, and you can feel the sticky wetness that stays behind when he moves his touch to somewhere else.
 When he uses his thumbs to part your pussy lips, you hear him whine. The breathy noise makes you grin, and you hum lightly. 
 “Still cute?” you ask aloud. Eyes on the ceiling, smile still on your lips.
 Jeongguk knows he said he wouldn’t touch, but he doesn’t think you’re too sensitive anymore. He still bypasses your clit just in case when he slowly runs his fingertip to your opening. When he presses into the second knuckle, you moan sweetly and the sound mixes with the audible wetness. There’s a crystalline string still attached to his finger when he pulls away. 
 “Mhmm,” Jeongguk hums, answering your question. “But so messy.”
 You bite your lip when Jeongguk slips his finger in again, a little father this time. 
 “Clean me up, then,��� you whisper, airy and wispy. 
 Jeongguk hums and when you look to the sound, you can see him peeking at you over your bent knees that are still pulled to your chest. He scrunches his nose at you cutely, and you mirror the curve of his lips.
 “I guess I should, since I’m the one who made you make such a mess,” he hums, like he’s mulling it over. But the fact that he does so while lowering his face to your cunt shows that he’s already made his decision. 
 In this position, you can’t see him and it makes you tense in anticipation while you wait.
 Jeongguk knows it’s a little mean to keep you waiting, but he can see you so perfectly like this. Can see how you’re trying control your arousal and calm yourself down with deep breaths. He can see how it’s not working.
 “You’re shaking,” he observes dreamily. 
 Your pussy leaks and he watches that glossy slick drip down. He uses his pointer finger to play with the droplet at your hole, swirling the dewiness around the cinched muscle.
 The sigh you let out is stuttered, and your hole clenches under his touch before you force yourself to relax again. You swallow your embarrassment before you admit, “I want it really bad, Gguk.”
 You sound like you’re close to crying and Jeongguk soothes you with wet kisses on your thighs. 
 “All you have to do is ask, baby,” Jeongguk tells you gently. His kisses move till they’re right next to your pussy, his tongue poking out to lick just outside your folds. His thumbs pull you open and he blows lightly.
 “Oh my god,” you whimper. 
 Jeongguk’s voice is full of flirty, mirth when he asks, “What do you say? Hmm?”
 The heartbeat in your cunt is the only thing you can focus on. The pulsing is so loud and strong that it drowns everything else out. You don’t even really hear it when you sigh a hazy, “Please, sir.” 
 Predictably, your words go straight to his cock. But weirdly enough, he also feels them in his heart? He can’t explain it but somehow the lust thrumming through him melts into something fond? A lovesick impulse has him opening your legs so he can slot himself in between.
 He doesn’t lay on you but holds himself above on a braced arm. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek as he looks at you. The corners of your eyes are damp, confirming the tears he thought he had heard in your voice earlier. Your lips are redder and a bit swelled, probably from you pulling them between your teeth.  
 Jeongguk kisses the corner of one eye, then the other, and then your lips. His thumb glides over your cheekbone. He sounds gentle when he says, “No ‘sir’ today, okay? Just Gguk.”
 You nod in his hold. 
 “Good girl,” he smiles, soft and sweet. “I’ll clean you up now, won’t tease you anymore.”
 You breathe a relieved sigh as Jeongguk kisses all the way down your tummy and you think about how good it’s going to feel, after all this time, to have his mouth all over your cunt. To feel his tongue licking into you, deep and slow. To feel his lips wrapping around your clit with light sucks. 
 The closer Jeongguk gets to your pussy, the harder it is to keep still. He smiles as you squirm and you can feel it in the juncture of your inner thigh where his mouth has strayed. It’s not too long before he gets back on track, kissing his way to your pussy till his lips are tucked between your plush folds and the tip of his tongue is circling your clit. 
 Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as you sit up, resting on your elbows to watch him. Just the sight of him is enough to make the first surge of heat curl in your belly. He’s got his eyes closed, lashes sitting pretty on the highs of his cheek as he licks at you. Cleaning you up and making a mess of you all at once. 
 “You look so pretty,” you whisper as you card a hand through his hair, pushing the stands off his forehead and out of his face.
 Without stopping his tongue, Jeongguk glances up at you, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. He moans pleased and happy into your pussy. Only pulls away for a second to whisper a cute ‘thank you’.
 His tongue is busy and so are his hands, running them up your body. When he gets to your tits, he’s harsh. Digging in and squeezing with palms that are just as greedy as his mouth. He uses the hold he has on them to pull himself closer, push his tongue deeper. The harshness of his touch makes you hiss, the hand you have in his hair tugging. 
 Jeongguk’s eyes roll back a little before he loosens grip, squeezing your tits once more, gently this time, as an apology. Then he’s smoothing his palms along your waist till one’s wrapped around your thigh and the other’s resting on your tummy.  
 He pulls away briefly to look at you, offering a sheepish grin before he pecks just above your slit. The hand he has on your belly absently fiddles with your bellyring.
 “Sorry,” he says, “I just– I don’t know, I didn’t notice how rough I was being.”
 You hum while you rest your feet on his back and wiggle your toes. 
 “I think I’ve just been wanting you for so long…” He turns his head and nuzzles into your leg by his head, his hair tickling the sensitive skin. “And now that I have you, I–” His lips graze your inner thigh with every word and when he’s at the softest part, he bites gently. 
 On a sigh, you ask, “You what?”
 Resting where his teeth just were, he tilts his head, looking up at you. “It’s hard for me to control myself. I just– can’t get enough of you.” His words are said with a sigh and uttered in between roaming wet kisses. 
 After he promises he’ll be more careful with you, he begins to lick broad stripes over your cunt. When you spread your legs wider, you can feel the flat of his tongue against your clit. But it’s just slightly, just a brush of his tongue. 
 “My clit,” you moan, looking down your nose at him, “Play with my clit.”
  He hums, pulling back a little. With your legs parted so wide, your pussy lips are spread just enough for him to see the little bud. He watches you as he uses the very tip of his tongue, flicking repeatedly over the sensitive spot just under your hood.
 Your brows pinch and your legs twitch as they naturally try to inch close, the feel of Jeongguk’s tongue so good and so much that your body is already on the verge of being overwhelmed. 
 “Ah– yeah, like that, Gguk,” you sigh letting your head roll back, basking in how good he’s making you feel, “Keep licking my pussy like that.”
 Your eyes lull shut while you let him make you feel good, and it’s then that you notice his hand on your tummy is still toying with your piercing. It’s distracting only for a moment, only before you realize that every time he does something to your clit with his tongue, he does the same to the dangly part of the jewelry with his fingers.
 When Jeongguk circles your clit, he twirls the charm. When he licks up and down over your clit, the little heart gets flicked too. When he suctions his lips and sucks your clit in and out of his mouth, he tugs gently on your belly ring.
 You can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose. One part of you thinking the patterns match up too well for it to be unconscious, the other part thinking it could just be an absentminded coincidence. You also can’t be sure why the nuanced touches are making the pleasure in your gut curl so tight; burn so hot.
 “Gguk– you’re gonna make me cum again…” you drone, lustdrunk. 
 He smiles while his tongue continues to lick lightly. “Am I?”
 While looking down your body at him, you nod. Your body already pulling taut with the tension that always preludes your orgasms.
 Jeongguk’s lips wrap around your clit and he gives a quick sucking kiss before he pulls away with a little pop! sound. “Not yet, I’m not done cleaning you up.”
 Groaning, you throw your head back. “You said you weren’t gonna tease anymore.”
 “I did,” he confirms, his big palms finding the backs of your thighs and pushing them back, “But not so you could cum– so I could clean up your mess–”
 “Your mess–”
 “Our mess,” he amends, the tips of his fingers straying to the newly exposed parts of you. Jeongguk brushes over your hole, and you suck in a small gasp. “You’re messy here too, baby.”
 Whining softly, you squirm as Jeongguk presses light, sucking kisses into your skin and there’s a subconscious urge to close your legs to keep him from getting where he so clearly intends. At the first signs of subtle hesitance, you feel his hands hold your legs open more firmly
 “Let me?” he breathes, “Please?”
 And something about how his voice is so soft –hazy and dreamy and full of so much lust and desire– has you relaxing, giving in. Docile and pliant in his hands. 
 You suppose some things may never change.
 The first feel of his tongue tasting you where no one has before makes you exhale a shaky sigh. Your hole puckering under the featherlight licks he gives. When he circles the cinched muscle, your mouth falls open and you look down your body and between your open legs to where Jeongguk already has his eyes on you. 
 His eyes get little puffs under them when he sees your reaction and smiles. The confusedly pleasured pinch of your brows. The tense way your hands grip the sheets under you.
 Giving your cheek a quick peck, he asks, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”
 It makes the memory of him –hot and hard and leaking with your tongue on his hole– flash in your mind. It reminds you that he knows what he’s doing to you, that he knows he’s making you feel good because you made him feel the same way. Sure the anatomy’s different, but a tongue is a tongue and a hole is a hole. 
 In lieu of being difficult, you answer him with a moan; with your head hitting your pillows again.
 That’s confirmation enough for Jeongguk as he echoes your moan with his own. He wraps his lips around the tight muscle in a nasty wet kiss and then drags his tongue up and along your leaking center till he’s at your clit where he plays until he works you into a whiny mess.
 You’re tensing, and he can feel how your body shifts as your chest expands with the deep breaths you’re taking. Like you’re trying to focus and keep yourself earthbound by delaying the impending high. 
 It’s a high that’s inevitable though, and you have a warning on the tip of your tongue only for it to go to waste when Jeongguk makes his way down again as soon as he senses it.
 And he repeats this– alternating between rimming you tauntingly and eating you till he can tell you’re right on the edge. You can feel how he smirks and you’re sure it’s amusement that you can hear prettying up little noises he purrs. His continuous teasing has you letting out barely contained whiny keens. 
 But Jeongguk can tell you’re doing your best to behave. The brattish way about you from before is nowhere to be seen. Not even when he feels your body slump for the nth time, panting from another almost-orgasm he takes away.   
 “You’re gonna cum aren’t you?” Jeongguk wonders aloud, pulling back a little to see how your pussy clenches in anticipation.
 He hears you swallow, flicks his eyes up to watch as you bring a hand up to tug a little at your hair. It trembles a little as you bring it down to his locks.
 “I- yeah… just… please…” You tug, pulling him to your clit by the crown of his head and holding him there with both hands. “Just stay there, please…”
 You can’t help the way that you start to roll and grind against his face. Jeongguk’s lips and his tongue rubbing against you repeatedly with the up and down motion of your hips, and his nose bumping your clit a little every now and again. 
 His hands dig into your waist like he’s trying to pull you closer, suffocate himself with your cunt. It’s when he shakes his head with subtle little side to side motions over your clit that your pleasure peaks with your legs shaking before they’re closing around his head.
 You cum hard and quietly, hushed ‘don’t stop’s and ‘keep going’s tumbling from your lips as you hold his mouth against you until you can’t take it anymore. You use one hand to pull him away by the hair, your other coming down to press against your still pulsing pussy. 
 With the hold you still have in his hair, you deliriously guide and maneuver him upwards. You’re still trying to catch your breath, so the quiet awed, ‘Whoa…’ you voice sounds airy
 The position you’ve got Jeongguk in now has him straddling you across your upper torso with strong thighs caging you in. His cock bobbing a little right in your face. Heavy and flushed, the tip an angry shade of pink and shiny with precum. It’s instinctive when you reach out with your small hand to wrap around the base. And again, something awe-filled tumbles from your mouth.
 “You’re so hard…” 
 The words float past your lips in the form of a breathless whisper, your lashes fluttering as your gaze jumps from his cock to his face. Your hand strokes lightly, just your fingertips running over the warm, silky skin. 
 “Missed you,” Jeongguk says with a tiny, unabashed shrug. As if that’s explanation enough for the state he’s in.
 He smiles with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth and you smile back.
 The pad of your thumb rubs at the underside of the crown when a drop of precum leaks, massaging it in messily. “Can I use my mouth?”
 “Mhmm,” Jeongguk sounds, not trusting his voice enough to not shake.
 You begin by placing weighted kisses along his length, starting at the base till your lips pucker around the slit. The heady taste of precum makes you purr, moaning softly. Jeongguk’s hips cant forward, and when you glance up you can see how his head has rolled back.
 Smiling at how affected he already is by the smallest things, you run your teeth over the sensitive head. You anticipate the hiss that Jeongguk sucks in. Your tongue swirls around to soothe and to taste before your mouth opens to swallow. 
 The tip of his cock barely grazes the back of your throat before Jeongguke is pulling his hips back and choking just slightly on the whiny gasp that gets caught in his throat. He threads a hand in your hair and tugs you off. 
 Your forehead is resting against his lower tummy, and you giggle a little before you kiss at the slight jutting of his hipbone. His cock throbs, and he groans.
 “What’s wrong?” you ask, smiling into him.
 You can feel his fingers massage lightly at your scalp, and when you glance up at him, he’s looking down at you, lovesick as he rolls his eyes at your playfully. 
 “Go slow, okay?” he asks softly, “Tease me a little?”
 Closing your eyes briefly as you let the sound of his moonstruck voice wash over you, you kiss sweetly at his hip once more before giving small kitten licks to the warm, flushed skin of his cock. He sighs like he’s in love.
 “Like this?” you ask, coquettishly. 
 Jeongguk nods when you look up at him with your mouth open and the tip of your tongue flicking lightly.
 “Lick the tip,” he whispers while he gets a hold of himself and guides it to your mouth. 
 You keep your eyes on him as you slowly drag the flat of your tongue with long licks.
 “Good… that’s good baby…” he says airily.
 Jeongguk glances down his nose at you for just a moment longer before his head is rolling back, and he’s moaning. His little sounds are quiet, but they’re almost constant. And you’re really not doing much, just licking softly at his frenulum, but you can already feel how his cock is getting stiffer, can see how the muscles in his tummy tense and untense… like he’s already getting close.
 Kissing the crown, you pull away, stroking over him lazily. Squeezing at the base when he kicks in your palm. “Already?” you ask gently.
 Jeongguk’s eyes are squeezed shut, like he’s trying to keep his composure, but at your choice of words, he laughs lightly. “Yes, already,” he tells you, pointedly. “That’s why I said to go slow.”
 Slow is good for you. Slow lets you take it all in. Take all of him in. 
 Slow lets you tease drop after drop of precum out; lets you coax your name from Jeongguk’s lip over and over again until you’re sure you’ll hear his lovechants in your dreams tonight. Slow lets you memorize the way that his hands twitch wherever they touch you, how he gasps when your tongue does something that feels extra nice, how he whines when you bring your free hand up and roll his balls in your palm. 
 He’s a bit predictable, endearingly so with the blush on his cheeks as he urges the hand toying with his balls a little farther back. You smile to yourself as you touch him, rubbing at his taint and taking a moment to just watch his face. 
 Jeongguk’s eyes are shut, mouth just barely parted. His brows pinch just slightly when you inch your touch farther back and the cinched muscle clenches briefly under your fingertips, before he relaxes. It’s light and hazy when he whispers, “Yeah, baby…”
 The light circles you’re tracing around Jeongguk’s hole have his cock throbbing. You have to wrap your lips around the head to keep him still enough to taste and properly tease, sucking with tiny bobs of your head as you drink down everything he leaks. 
 “I– ___, oh my god–” Jeongguk pants, looking down at you, like he can’t believe you or your mouth, can’t believe how good it feels to have you again. 
 You hum, lips still wrapped around the tip of his cock as you smile up at him as best you can. His chest expands with a sharp inhale when you press your fingers a littler firmer against his hole.
 “Want me to put them in?” you ask between the soft open-mouthed kisses you press to his cock.
 The sound that Jeongguk lets out makes your kisses cease and has you sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Your thighs rub together, and your pussy is needy between them.  
 Jeongguk’s never done it before, at least not fully and with someone else. But the thought alone is almost enough to make him finish. It would be a first for you and him, together. Something he’s been wanting, craving.
 He’s still trying to get his thoughts in order when you prompt him with a patient, ‘Hmm?’. 
 “I- No, no–” he ends up saying, “Just– just play with me.”
 It’s sighed, laced with lust and contentment. Having you right now, just playing as he said, is more than enough for him. The anticipation does feel nice though, hot and sweet like a whispered promise of next time. Jeongguk wonders if you’ll ruin him. 
 “You just want me to play?” you ask, “You don’t want to cum?”
 And Jeongguk’s sure you will. Ruin him, that is. If you haven’t already.
 Your voice comes out lovily teasing, and your hands stay busy while you look up at him, eyes big and so pretty. Lips glossy with spit, maybe a little bit of his precum. 
 “Not– not yet?” 
 Jeongguk’s voice sounds unsure in your ears, and his actions contradict his words when you bring your lips to his leaking tip. His hips roll forward seemingly on their own accord, the most sensitive part of his cock rubbing against your tongue that you’ve pillowed underneath the crown. 
 A choked little whine falls from his open mouth before his head is lulling back and his hands are coming to your hair. Humming, you suction your lips around the head and bring the hand you don’t have busy to his hips, urging him to keep rocking his hips, slow so you can keep the pressure from your tongue constant. 
 “Oh my god– baby… baby–” Jeongguk moans, his gaze back on you. His brows furrowed and arched up, his mouth agape. 
 Under your touch, you can feel his muscles tense. How his breaths come out huffed and strained. How he sometimes tries to pull his hips away before he pushes them in like he rethought it, maybe like he never meant to. How no matter how hard he tries to keep from doing it, the stalling pace of his hips picks up.
 And you can tell he’s going to cum. 
 He keeps muttering these fucked out little whispers of your name, of baby, of my baby. Almost like they’re warnings, maybe pleas. But not pleas for you to stop, or tease him anymore. You can hear the difference, can feel it in the way he touches you. Can taste it on your tongue with every heavy drop of precum that he’s leaking.  
 It’s like a string snaps in him, when he groans something deep and dissonant and his hips stop all together and his hold in your hair turns almost painful as he uses his grip to work your mouth over his cock.
 “Yeah,” he breathes, “Don’t fucking stop… Gonna make me fucking cum–”
 His cock is throbbing in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence. Coating your tongue in so many thick, hot shots of white. You hum, moving your fingers from massaging his taint so that you can roll his balls in your palm. 
 Jeongguk’s hand is shaking a little when he brings it down to cup your face, when he gently pulls you off him. His cock still fat and bobbing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He guides your gaze to his.
 He’s bracing himself above you with his forearm against your headboard, looking down at you a little sweaty and so flushed. Chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He’s got a little smile on his face when he runs the pad of his thumb over the plump of your bottom lip. Your mouth opens instinctively. The little smile on his lips grows before he’s biting it down.
 His thumb presses down on the fleshy muscle, and you naturally let your lips wrap around it.
 “Good girl,” he says, softly.
 His words are tangible, and you close your eyes and you smile as you just let the praise glide over your body. It’s almost like you can feel each letter press a kiss into your skin. 
 Jeongguk’s a copycat as he too presses kisses here and there while he resituates himself. Going from straddling your ribcage to finding his home between your legs. Until you manuver him once more. He’s still home, between your legs, but on his back with you straddling him now.
 Jeongguk doesn’t complain at the manhandling. Just looks up at you, rubs little nonsensical patterns just above the creases of your thighs. 
 “Can we do it now?”
 His laugh is bright and loud at first before he gets a hold of himself, but he’s still smiling as he lets his shining eyes and his hands wander. His fingertips trialing over your skin until his gets his hands to your tits. His thumbs flick over your nipples while he hums, amused. 
 “Now you have to wait for me to be ready again,” he tells you conversationally, still teasing you.
 You pout playfully, letting your own fingers explore, tracing the line of ink where his sleeve comes to an end on his shoulder. “So boring, Gguk,” you jest.
 He scrunches his nose at you. “Why do you think I told you, ‘not yet’?”
 Rolling your eyes, you reposition yourself; less over his torso and more over his hips. “Well,” you start, lowering your pussy down to where his cock lays flat on his tummy, “Waiting doesn’t have to be boring.” You drag your cunt over his still plump, but not-quite hard cock. 
 One of his hands quickly jerks down to get a hold of your hips and stop your movements. He hisses.. 
 He says something about how he never said it had to be boring as you reach between your bodies and get a hold of his half-hard cock. Goes on about how he literally just came and how he needs a second to recuperate as you bring the head to your wet opening. 
 “Can I?” you ask vaguely, interrupting him.
 He doesn’t say anything more, just gives you the littlest nod and he squeezes his eyes shut while you squeeze him into you. He’s not there yet, but he’s still sensitive and its still a tight fit.
 Jeongguk looks down his chest to where you’re sitting prettily on his slowly hardening cock. His eyes roll back slightly before he’s scrubbing one of his hands over his face. “You’re–”
 “Did you watch our video?” you interrupt again. 
 Stuttering a little bit, and winching some, Jeongguk uses the couple of seconds it takes for you to bring yourself down to him, to think. 
 “No, felt guilty… tried to hold out completely but ended up giving in and thinking about you…” he says, his hands finding their place at your hips.. 
 His answer isn’t what you expected but it still has you smiling softly, chest to chest, resting on your elbows, and playing with his hair. “And what did you think about?” you muse, words breathy and flirty.
 Jeongguk’s eyes instinctively dart to your curved lips. “Your mouth.”
 You scrunch your nose at him cutely as you ask, “On your cock?” 
 He gasps when you grind your hips just a little, the movement stiffening his cock up that much more. Jeongguk can feel his cheeks heat up as he shakes his head, the hands he has on your hips moving to your thighs and then back up, squeezing and making little chills crawl across your skin.  
 “On my lips…” he admits quietly, licking them. “Missed kissing you.”
 With a heart that grows fond in your chest, you lean down and give what he missed. Jeongguk sighs into your mouth, melts underneath you. He cranes his neck and the kiss deepens, his tongue slipping in between your lips. It’s not until you having him moaning softly into your mouth that you disconnect from him and make your way to his ear. 
 “Thought about you too,” you tell him, “touched myself to the thought of you missing me; wrapping your hand around your cock with me on your mind.”
 Jeongguk’s fingertips dig into the fatty part of your ass, latches his lips onto the junctre between your neck and your shoulder. He sinks his teeth in just a touch to quiet his moan. 
 The whiny moise that you let out precedes the, “I fanatasized about the way you would fuck me when you came back to me–”
 “I wanted to, but I just felt so bad–”
 “Shh,” you hush him, “Doesn’t matter now…”
 You finally make to move your hips for real this time, but lifting them has you letting out a tiny hiss of pain that’s followed by a cute, airy laugh. “Almost forgot how big you are.”
 Jeongguk’s heart was just tugging inside his chest but now his cock is throbbing inside of you. Even as he wonders if there’s been anyone since him. 
 But once you get over that first hint of pain, past the initial sting of him stretching and filling you up, the only wonder is how Jeongguk survived without you for so long. 
 The light from your blinds peaks through your hair; wild and messy and draping over your shoulder. The long strands almost act as a curtain, hiding you and Jeongguk away. Spots of sunshine come through here and there, and they hit different parts of your body as your body becomes his body. On the tip of your nose, over the curve of your breast, the tops of your thighs. 
 And Jeongguk’s knows he is so fucking lucky. Not because he gets to have you like this –warmed by his touched and sunlight– but because he gets to have it again. Because he gets another chance at having you at all, after fucking it up once already.
 “Gguk,” you pant, “I feel so good right now.” 
 You’ve gone from bouncing on his cock, to griding on it, feeling his tip rub against the deepest parts of you. Your palms are flat on his lower tummy, and when he grabs your hips, helping you move back and forth on him, your nails dig into the muscle. 
 It makes him moan, quiet like the little sounds that you can’t stop making. 
 Jeongguk knows he was basically on the verge of tears just a second ago, but he is still a man and he can’t stop himself from asking, “Who’s making you feel so good baby?”
 He can tell how fucked out and how close you are because of how easily you answer him. How being stubborn and bratty doesn’t even seem to cross your mind when you moan, “You, it’s always you.” 
 Pulling you to his chest and fucking up into your cunt is much sweeter than it probably seems. He does so to be close to you, to feel your chest against his, to feel how your body shakes as you get closer, to feel how you bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your moans and cries.
 “Yeah–” you sob into his skin, “you’re gonna make me cum– please– please, can I cum?”
 Your words come out staccato and irregular, punched out one by one by his cock as he fucks you faster. But Jeongguk doen’t say anything yet, just focuses on the slick sounds your pussy is making everytime he bottoms out, on the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of the slick, velvety heat, on how his fingers sink into your ass as he squeezes and tugs and pulls your cheeks apart to bury himself as deep as he can when he cums with you. 
 “Fuck, baby cum for me,” Jeongguk pants, his words a little rushed as he feels it all come to a head, “Cum all over my fucking cock while I cum in your pussy.”
 You don’t say anything when you cum, and neither does Jeongguk. Both cumming with nothing but gasps. Your’s sounding sweet, almost awed, as you just let your cunt squeeze and contract around Jeongguk’s cock, almost like you forgot you could cum that hard. Jeongguk’s are more guttural as his cock throbs, pulsing with each shot of cum he pumps into your pussy.
 ~~~
 “Your roommates are actually terrifying.”
 The voice makes you smile, laughing sleepily, eyes closed for just a moment longer before you turn your head to see a dishevelleddly dressed Jeongguk, holding a single glass of water in his hand. 
 He shrugs off his blazer that he’s wearing over his briefs (you’ve helped yourself to his button up), and sits next to where you’re laying down. He nudges you his foot till you sit up and take the water from him.
  It’s a content type of quiet while you both pass the glass back and forth, sharing. It only last for a minute or two before Jeongguk is clearing your throat.
 “So… what happened to your plant, hmm?”
 He must have seen the pitiful looking succulent in your living room when he went to get the water. And you know he’s just messing around and that he only said it to strike conversation and fill the silence, but still, it makes something ugly stir in your gut. 
 “You didn’t remind me,” you say, trying to literally shrug it off and give the topic a quick stop.
 But Jeongguk is giggling as he says back, “Oh, so it’s my fault?”
 “Everything is your fault.”
 It’s snappy and said with enough bitterness that Jeongguk is physically taken aback. But then he thinks and then he softens.
 “Hey,” he says gently.
 You look at him, eyes swirling with a mixture of anger and hurt. 
 Jeongguk brushes a little bit of your hair out of your face as he looks you over. “I know,” he acknowledges quietly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but I hope with some time, you’ll be able to see it.”
 You frown a little before giving him a sad small smile and you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. He turns into the touch and gives your palm a soft kiss.
 “I know you’re sorry,” you tell him, “I know you are and I forgive you –my head knows that but– my heart is still sad.”
 Something about how you say it reminds Jeongguk of how young you are. But not in the way it did before. Not like your youth is a burden, or a red flag. It just reminds him that he needs to be careful with you. 
 “I know, and that’s okay… I know it’s going to take time,” Jeongguk gives you a sad, yet understanding shrug.
 And for once, it’s a good thing that time does what time is meant to. It passes and it allows things to grow; for things to heal. 
 “Speaking of time,” you say, lightheartedly trying to change the subject, “How long do I have you?”
 “As long as you want me.”
 Jeongguk’s reply is met with the most underwhelmed, flat stare you have every given him. He snorts before he says, “Till tomorrow afternoon– I have to pick up Nari.”
 His heart feels like it’s going to explode in his chest when he sees how your eyes light up at the mention of his daughter, at how you jabber on with questions about her. How has she been?, Is she talking yet?, Does she still have that narwhal?
 There’s a chance that he might regret it, but there’s also a chance that he might not. 
 So he asks, “Do you want to come with me?” 
 ~~~ 
 However long Jeongguk said it takes to get to his ex-wife’s house, all those months ago, escapes you.
 But right now, it feels like 10 years and 10 minutes all at once. 
 It’s dramatic, yes, how terribly you’ve been fidgeting in the passenger seat of the Mercedes. Even Jeongguk’s big, warm hand petting at your knee can’t quell the nerves.
 It’s making the atmosphere tense, and you feel bad when Jeongguk sounds like he’s walking on eggshells when he tells you, “Thank you for coming with me, I’m really happy you did.”
 You feel even worse when you respond with, “I don’t think I want to go to the door with you.”
 The ever-soothing hand on your leg stutters for barely a second before continuing just as it was.
 “That’s totally fine,” he assures you, eyes on the road and one hand on the steering wheel. “You don’t have to, but if you change your mind, you can. It is your choice.”
 The hand squeezes your thigh reassuringly. 
 And it’s quiet for the rest of the drive. Until Jeongguk is pulling into an empty spot in the driveway of a very big, very nice house. Right next to a Porsche. 
 “Of fucking course.”
 “___.”
 “No, you’re right,” you say, raising your hands appeasingly, “You’re right, I shouldn’t even be surprised–”
 Jeongguk interrupts you with his hands on your cheeks and his lips on your. 
 “Shut.” He gives you one kiss. “Up.” He gives you two kiss.
 His affection makes the tension in your body dissipate and your shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.”
 With his thumbs rubbing over the apples of your cheeks, he gives you a small, understanding, patient smile. Then he asks if you’re sure about not coming to the door with him because he is stupid. 
 You tell him as much as you reiterate how you do not want to go to the door and this time, Jeongguk is the one raising his hands in surrender as he exits the car.
 Leaving you alone with your thoughts.
 Should you get out of the car? Wait inside? Should you have brought Nari a gift? Will she remember you? What if she doesn’t?
 When you hear a distant, familiar baby-giggle, you end up opening the door and standing between Jeongguk’s car and Dasom’s. You feel a little dumb until you hear the pitter patter of little feet on the brick driveway. 
 “I have a surprise for you Nana,” you hear Jeongguk sing cutely.
 And you hear Nari gasp excitedly in response, even cuter.
 As the pair get closer, you can see Jeongguk’s top half over the car, how his arm is swinging back and forth because of the tiny hand that’s holding his where you can’t see.
 Nari is dressed in a black jumper dress with a long-sleeved heart-patterned shirt on underneath when she pops out from behind the car and next to her dad. Kept warm from the slight chill in the air by her knitted tights and her teeny-tiny ugg boots. She’s still round, but she’s gotten taller and you coo softly to yourself.
 But Nari hears the little noise you make and when she sees you, she stops in her tracks. Her little bobble head looking between you and Jeongguk. Then she’s tugging on her dad’s pinky that she’s got a hold of.
 “___!” she says as she nods towards you, like she’s letting Jeongguk know that you’re right there. She sounds sure, almost a little bossy. Doesn’t stutter even a second to remember you. Kind of like she never forgot you. 
 “Ah– what’s with the nodding missy?” Jeongguk tuts, then he looks at you and shakes his head exasperated yet amused. 
 Nari has the nerve to giggle, a big girl no longer brought to tears by her daddy’s scoldings. She looks up at him grinning before she shrugs, like she doesn’t know what got into her. As she raises her little shoulders, her free hand comes up too for emphasis. And gripped tightly in her little hand is her stuffed narwhal. 
 You’re happy.
~~~~~~~~~
aaaaand SCENE. omg heyyyy long time no see girlfriends <3 i hope that u think this was worth the wait but am debilitatingly scared that it did not meet ur expectations so i am hiding <3 im sorry for how long it took but it is here now n that is all my tiny hands have to offer!!  i would love to know what u thought, so please do al the things: reblog, like, comment, send an ask~~ thank u for waiting for me and for reading ily muah :*
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heavenlyhischier · 9 months
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𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐬 - 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐧 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬
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word count: 7.6k (i got very carried away im sorry)
summary: after months of feeling like you've lost quinn, he ends up losing you. will the two of you find your back to each other?
warnings: angst, self-destructive tendancies, drinking, cursing, MINORS DNI - 18+ content below the cut, shower sex, fingering, oral (fem recieving), unprotected sex (use protection guys), teeny bit of a praise kink, brief breath play, please let me know if you see any mistakes. i finished this at 2 am and my vision was a little blurry at that point
note: this is part of my follower celebration! i'm so glad i finally wrote about the future captian of the vancouver canucks please guys im begging you.
Two years ago, you had met Quinn Hughes through a mutual friend, and he’s been a part of your life ever since. In the beginning, the two of you took things slow, wanting to truly get to know each other before getting into a relationship. Quinn wanted to make sure that his intense schedule that involved him being gone for long periods of time wasn’t going to overwhelm you, or make you feel alone. You wanted to make sure that, after all you had gone through, Quinn was going to remain a man of his word and make your relationship work despite the many odds that came with his job. And he did, at first.
For the first year and a half that you were with Quinn, he was texting, calling, facetiming as often as he could when he was gone. If he wasn’t doing something that related to his commitment to the hockey team, he was talking to you in some way. He would send you pictures of the places he would visit with short captions of how he wished you were there with him, and you would always smile at them and tell him that you would be, one day. Though, a few months ago, those texts started to become less frequent, and when you did get them, they sounded forced, almost like they had been rehearsed.
For a while, you tried to reason with yourself. Telling yourself that he was just getting busier, and the stress was getting to him. You tried to understand just how demanding and exhausting his job must be, so you brushed off his deteriorating communication. Instead, you tried to hold onto the hope that when he was finally back home, things were going to go back to normal. Quinn was going to walk back through the door to your shared apartment and hold you until you fell asleep. Then, that stopped happening too.
The first time you realized that Quinn was truly pulling away from you was when he didn’t come straight home after a seven day roadie. He hadn’t even told you that he was close to home yet. You only found out because Natalie had posted a snapchat story of JT holding Owen, and you were immediately dialing your boyfriend's phone number. Your heart sank when it only rang three times before cutting to his bland voicemail message.
You remember spending the rest of that night crying into your pillow, thoughts of what you could have done to make him distance himself from you clouding your brain. You knew that hockey players had an abysmal reputation, but you have never lumped Quinn into that group of men. You’ve always thought the world of him, considering yourself lucky to have the luxury of being loved by him. This had you questioning everything you thought you knew about him. When he came home later that night, he gave you a half-assed apology and explanation followed by a string of kisses that had you melting back into him.
Though even that started to dwindle, and eventually it stopped all together. When Quinn was home in Vancouver, he rarely made the effort to spend time with you, and when he did, it was almost like he wasn’t there. His face would always be buried in his phone, or he’d be playing video games with his friends and you’d simply be sitting next to him on the couch. Quinn had stopped trying to plan dates, and honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone on one with him. You could barely remember the last time the two of you had shared a kiss that was more than the obligatory chaste peck on the lips before bed. 
You tried to reassure yourself and ignore the aching in your chest, but the way he put as much distance as he possibly could between the two of you, the less you were able to do that. Eventually, you’d decided that enough was enough, and if it felt like you weren’t in a relationship, then you weren’t going to be in one. No matter how badly it hurt. 
The thought of breaking up with Quinn made you feel like someone was holding your head under water. The panic settling into your chest as you realized that you couldn’t breathe; your lungs burning the longer you went without any air. No matter how hard you tried to break the surface and gasp for air, your head was only shoved deeper and deeper into the water until you realized that the only escape was leaving him. Leaving the man you were still in love with was the only way for you to be able to breathe again. 
When he finally came home that night, he didn’t even notice you sitting at the table, his head shoved in his phone as he walked through the door. “Quinn,” Your quiet voice bounced off the walls of your home. His head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise that you were still awake at this hour, but you continued, “We need to talk.”
“Okay,” He drew out, brows knitting together in confusion as he slipped his phone into his pocket, “What’s this about?”
His eyes darted throughout the apartment, and you watched as his shoulders fell when he realized that stuff was missing from all over. Your stuff. With Quinn avoiding your home like it was, or rather you were, the plague, it gave you enough time to gather everything you’d brought over with you, and temporarily move it into a friend's apartment until you could find your own. Despite the multiple breaks you had to take because you kept breaking down, you managed to do it all in one day.
“I think you know what it’s about,” You chewed at your bottom lip, blinking rapidly to keep yourself from crying.
“Baby, I-,” He tried as he reached over the table to grab your hand, but you quickly cut him off. The chair scraped against the floor as you abruptly stood, shoving his outstretched hand away from you.
“Don’t call me that,” You spat, vision blurring from the tears, “You can’t call me that anymore.”
“What are you trying to say,” He asked, his voice breaking, and that made you angry.
How dare he act like he was hurt when all he’s been doing is hurting you? He put you in this position. He pushed you away, made you feel like he didn’t want you anymore. He did this, and he doesn’t get to act like he’s the one that’s hurting.
“I’m saying that we’re done, Quinn. I’m breaking up with you,” You asserted through the salty streams falling down your cheeks. Though the words tasted bitter as they came out, you felt a slight, very very slight, sense of relief wash over you as you said the words out loud.
Your words hung over his head as you fell into an uncomfortable silence, eyes staying trained on him as you waited for a response. He stood at the table with his palms pressed against the wood, head down as he let out a shaky breath followed by a weak question.
“What do you mean ‘Why’,” You scoffed, shooting daggers into the top of his head, “Quinn, you’ve barely said a full sentence to me in the last week. You don’t talk to me when you’re gone anymore. Hell, half the time I don’t even know you guys are back unless someone posts about it. I just- It just feels like you don’t want this anymore, and that’s okay, but what you’ve been doing isn’t.”
“No,” He breathed out, his voice small and broken as he shook his head, “No, it’s not and I’m sorry. I don’t- Fuck, Y/N, I don’t know what to say right now. I lo-“
“Please don’t,” You interrupted, tearing your gaze away from him as you choked on your own cries, “Please stop, Quinn. I can’t do it anymore. I love you so much, but it’s gotten to a point that the person I fell in love with is gone even though he’s right in front of me.”
A part of you did want him to beg you to stay, to beg you to give him another chance because he will change. He will change as long as it means he got to have you, and he couldn’t live without you. But the more logical part of you was holding the spear, and it was telling you that you were doing the best thing for you. That leaving Quinn, while it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, it was the right decision for you.
“I’ve already got all of my stuff moved out,” Your voice cut through the thick silence, “You’re not home much so it made it pretty easy.”
You couldn’t help but throw the jab in there, but it was only to cover the thinly veiled agony that was truly going on in your heart and bleeding into the rest of your body. You didn’t want Quinn to know that saying goodbye to him was like death by a thousand cuts, and so you masked the pain the only way you knew how. With anger.
“I wish you and your team the best in the rest of the season, I really do. But I think it would be better for both of us if we don’t talk after this.”
Not waiting for his response, you made a slight show to toss the key to what was now his apartment onto the table in front of him, the gentle ding of the metal hitting the wood echoing through the empty room, before walking out of the door. You’d barely made it into the elevator by the time your feelings washed over you an aggressive wave that came seemingly out of nowhere and everywhere all at once. You were thankful that the ride down to the bottom was quick and no one else joined you, and that the main lobby was only occupied by the security guard who’s more than likely seen his fair share of crying women.
That night, you went to your friend's apartment and broke down into a mess of screams, tears, and pain. She held you as you cried, held your hair as you threw up, held your hand through the shower curtain because you didn’t want to be alone. She stood by you in your most desperate time of need, and she made it her own personal goal to maim the hockey player should she ever see him again.
Quinn didn’t text or call you, but you knew that he wasn’t doing the greatest for the first few weeks after your breakup. Petey and Brock had both called to check on you once they had figured out what had their teammate in the state he was in. They asked how you were doing, and not-so-subtly mentioned that Quinn wasn’t any better off than you were. Though, they quickly learned to not mention him unless they wanted to listen to you call them obscene words before ending the call and ignoring them for a few days. You knew their intentions were good, but you didn’t want to hear about how “awful” Quinn was.
If he had acted like he cared about you half as much as his friends were telling you he did, maybe you would have made the effort to ask about him. If he loved you half as much as they said he did, but he didn’t. And he’s made that clear to you. Of course you know you told him that you thought it best if the two of you didn’t talk anymore, but you had secretly hoped he wouldn’t listen. That he would be calling you and texting you, begging you to come back. Telling you how in love he was with you, but it was complete and utter radio silence.
Eventually, you were able to pick yourself back up enough to find your own apartment. Leila had insisted that you staying with her was never going to be a problem, but you knew you couldn’t stay there forever. You needed to try and move on from him, even though you weren’t quite ready to let go of him yet. You needed to try and find yourself again, and you couldn’t do that sleeping in the guest bed of your best friend and her boyfriend's apartment.
Leila’s worried eyes were practically carved into your skull at this point, but you didn’t blame her. She’s had to pick you up, physically and emotionally, more times than she had anticipated when you initially turned up at her door with puffy cheeks and bloodshot eyes. Though she should have realized how deeply hurt you were the fourth time she held you after you had woken up thinking that your breakup was a nightmare, only to realize that it was reality that haunted your dreams.
No matter how hard you tried to forget about Quinn Hughes, the city you lived in was as riddled with memories and reminders of what once was. He was on every street you walked, in every store window you passed by. He was everywhere, and it made you feel like there was a shard of glass piercing your heart, unrelenting and unmoving. You wanted nothing more than to forget about the man who had torn your heart in two, and you were willing to do anything to do that.
The bar air that clung to your body was sticky with alcohol and sweat, but you didn’t seem to mind as you moved your hips to the beat of whatever terrible remix they were playing. The unnamed man behind you had his hands planted firmly on your waist, but you didn’t pay him any mind as you let yourself dance. The alcohol swimming through your veins aiding your ability to forget about all of the hurt you had yet to heal from.
For the last three months, you often found yourself in some sort of bar or club to drink your pain away. It was cliche, but you hadn’t stumbled upon any other outlet that allowed you to forget about the constant ache in your chest. Leila had tried to guide you towards less self-destructive ways of healing, but you didn’t listen to her. This way was guaranteed to ease your heartbreak, at least for the night and that was all you needed.
“I’m Wren,” The man yelled into your ear, an off-putting smirk slapped on his less than desirable features.
Your mouth dropped open, the blood pounding in your ears covering the music entirely. It was too close. His name was too similar, and it made the one thing you were trying to forget flood itself into your head. Images of Quinn and memories of the way his voice sounded pushed their way to the forefront mind, and suddenly you couldn’t breathe.
Without another word, you pushed the man away from you and scrambled towards the exit of the bar. Your vision turned bleary and clouded, from the tears or the alcohol, you weren’t sure. Ignoring the worried calls from strangers you shoved past, you rushed out into the crisp Vancouver air.
You stumbled over into the mostly empty alleyway, clutching at your chest as your back came in contact with the brick wall. You were aware of the many lingering eyes on you, but the feeling that was consuming you made their attention appear miniscule and irrelevant. All you could think about was Quinn and how he never even fought to be with you. How he gave you up so easily.
Leila’s boyfriend had seen you run out of the bar, and immediately darted towards the bathroom so he could grab her. With the help of a few random women, he was able to get her attention much faster, and she was rushing out of the bar and leaving him to close their tab. Leila heard you before she saw you, and that alone made her chest burn for you.
“Honey,” She delicately approached you, her voice calm and collected, “What happened?”
The words were on the tip of your tongue, but nothing was coming out but strangled breaths and mangled cries. Despite having seen you in this position more times than she could count, it broke Leila’s heart all the same. She maneuvered your body so that she could pull you into her lap, ignoring the fact that she was sitting on the ground in a dirty alley. She began rubbing soothing circles on your back and instructed you to try and follow her breathing pattern.
Once you were able to catch your breath, you let out an almost incoherent, “Why didn’t he come back?”
Leila was able to calm you down enough to get you back to your apartment nearly an hour later. She kept insisting that you just come home with her, but you already felt guilty enough for intruding so much on her personal life. You knew she didn’t mind, but you did, so you managed to convince her that you would be okay by yourself, and that you would call her if you needed her. Though, she wasn’t the person you ended up calling.
“You have reached the voicemail box of Quinn Hughes. Please leave a message after the tone.”
“I hate you, Quinn,” You started, your voice already raspy from the moments prior, “I hate you so much for making me believe that you ever loved me back the way that I loved you. I thought we were forever, you know. That’s what you told me. That we would get married and have our own family, but we saw how that turned out. It was never going to be me, was it?
“I just wished you would have had the balls to tell me that you fell out of love with me, if you ever did in the first place, or found someone else or whatever the fuck happened. It would have made it a hell of a lot easier knowing that I, or you, did something to make you not stop loving me. It’s just- The worst fucking part about all of this is, is that I’m still so in love with you that it physically hurts me to be without you, but that doesn’t matter does it?
“Fuck. I don’t even know why I’m doing this. I guess I'm just trying to give myself closure so that I can really move on from you. I don’t know that I’ll ever stop loving you, but I’m going to try.”
Hanging up the phone, you threw it onto your couch and let out a gut wrenching sob that ripped through the stillness of your apartment. You fell to your knees and let everything you had been bottling up for the last three months bleed out of you. The world spun around you, your lungs burning as you gasped for air. Your fingers grasped at anything they could possibly wrap themselves around in an attempt to keep yourself steady.
You felt as if you were back to square one, and you hated that all it took was some man having a name that too closely resembled his. It was stupid, you thought, blatantly pathetic how easily you were thrown back into the fire you had done your best to crawl out of. You had almost healed all of the cuts Quinn’s treatment of you had left in your heart, but now they were gaping open once again.
Minutes passed by, or maybe hours you weren’t sure, and you had fallen into a limp ball on the floor of your living room. You had no energy to move from the spot as silent tears escaped their previous confinement. You stared lifelessly at the ceiling above you, mind too tired to fight off the dangerous thoughts floating about inside your head. It was only when sleep finally graced you that you were able to escape the pain of what-ifs.
The following morning, you were rudely awoken by someone aggressively and relentlessly knocking on your door. The sound ricocheted across the nearly empty walls of your apartment, and worsened the already excruciating pounding in your head. Pushing your tired body off the floor, you let out a quiet groan as nausea rippled from your core.
You passed by a mirror that Leila insisted you hang, and you outwardly cringed at your appearance. Your face swollen from last night's breakdown, and your makeup was smudged all across your face. Needless to say, your unwarranted guest was not going to get a presentable version of you.
Not bothering to check the peephole, you pulled the door open and time froze all around you. Quinn stood there with his hands in his pockets, head covered by the hood of his blue Canucks hoodie. His face was decorated with overgrown facial hair and deep set bags had found places underneath his eyes. Truly, he looked awful, but the sight of him in front of you made the already growing ball of nausea burst.
Quinn watched as your eyes simultaneously widened and hardened with an undetectable emotion, but he’s sure he could guess what it was. When he had woken up that morning, the last thing he’d expected to see was a missed call from you, let alone a voicemail. He’d listened to it a dozen times before calling Petey, asking him what he should do.
After a lecture that closely resembled the one he had already gotten from his teammate months prior that was followed by words of encouragement, he set off to your apartment. He only knew your address because Brock had accidentally let it slip when they passed by it one night. Truthfully, Quinn was expecting you to not answer the door or to slam it shut in his face when you saw him. That he was prepared for, but what he did not prepare himself for was you darting to the bathroom.
He stood in the hallway, conflicting emotions battling with each other as the sound of you retching reached his ears. He wanted to follow after you and comfort you like he’d done many times before, but he also didn’t want to make you even more uncomfortable than you undoubtedly were already. He opted to step inside and wait for you in the living room, preparing himself for whatever you were going to throw at him.
You were heaving into the toilet, panic running through every nerve in your body as you tried to focus on breathing rather than throwing up. The last person you had expected to show up at your door was here now, and you left him standing in the hallway. A million thoughts ran through your mind as you flushed the toilet, pushing yourself up off the floor for the second time in the last fifteen minutes.
Why was Quinn here? How was he here? You never gave him your address. Though a brief reminder that Brock knew where you lived was enough to answer that question for you, but nothing you could come up with answered why. You remember leaving him a voicemail in your drunken meltdown, but you couldn’t wrap your head around just what had gotten him to seek you out.
You stared at yourself in the mirror for far too long, and you wondered if Quinn was still here. You’d heard the door shut, but you couldn’t figure out if the footsteps that followed were inside your apartment or in the hallway. After quickly brushing your teeth and convincing yourself that he had left, you stepped back into the living room and were proven wrong. He had settled into the spot on the couch that he chose every time if he could; closest to the kitchen. His leg was anxiously bouncing up and down, and he was biting at his fingernails. 
“What are you doing here,” You called out, nails digging into the palm of your hand as a way to keep yourself grounded.
The sound of your voice had Quinn’s head turning on a swivel before he was standing and taking a few steps towards you, but he stopped when you stepped backwards. He swallowed thickly, knowing that he was already treading through very dangerous waters by showing up at your apartment unannounced, and he didn’t want to do anything to further worsen that.
He instantly registered the tortured look in your eyes because it was the same one he’s been sporting since you left. Quinn knows he’s to blame for the downfall of your relationship. He should have fought harder. He should have fought, period, but he had his own reason for letting you go.
“You called me last night,” He started.
“I was drunk,” You firmly stated, heart beating loudly in your chest, “It didn’t mean anything.” You were lying, and he knew that, too. Quinn could always tell when you were lying.
“It meant something to me,” He rushed out, “Hearing your voice- Hearing you say that you thought I never loved you ripped me to pieces. I know I don’t deserve it, but can you please listen to my explanation? I know it won’t repair the damage I’ve done, but please. I was too scared before, but I’m not now.”
He rasped your name out like it was something sacred, like it held the entire world within its syllables. His eyes were glassy and filled with unshed tears as they bore into your own. He could tell that your heart and brain were at war with each other by the way you kept taking sharp breaths, and your eyes kept flitting away from him. 
“I don’t know, Quinn. I’m trying to move on, and hearing you out will only undo all of the work I’ve put into doing that,” You tried, turning away from him but still staying in the living room.
“I know, baby,” The nickname tumbled out before he could stop it, sending a jab to your chest, “I know, but please. I will leave you alone after, if that’s what you really want. I’ll do whatever you want.”
You weighed your options in your head before letting out a hesitant, “Okay. I’ll listen, but if I want you to leave after, you’ll go?”
Your heart had won this battle, but you’re relying on your brain to save it later if need be. The sound of his approaching footsteps made the breath catch in your throat, but the feeling of his hand sliding into your own sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body. Your head snapped to his own, your eyes full of anxiety and familiarity.
He gently pulled you over to the couch, dropping your hand so that you could sit as far away from as you wanted. The air was crawling with nerves from both parties, but the lack of anger radiating off of you brought him some sort of comfort as he gathered his thoughts. Though, in your defense, you could never be angry at Quinn, no matter how badly he hurt you.
“I know that no apology can fix the hurt I’ve caused you, but I am sorry. I am so sorry for pulling away from you instead of talking to you. I never fell out of love with you, ever. Not then, and not now. Do you want to know the best thing that’s ever happened to me? It isn't hockey. It isn’t money. It’s you, and that terrified me. I was so scared that I was going to screw everything up.”
You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he cast you a stern glare and shook his head before continuing, “I never let that bother me until I overheard you talking to Leila about marriage and children, and I got scared. I started questioning if I was good enough for you. If I was even good for you. I’m gone so much with the team, and I’ve already missed so many of your accomplishments because I was on the road.
“I started thinking about us having kids. How many appointments would I miss? What if I missed the birth? What if I missed the baby’s first steps? I couldn’t imagine putting you through all of that by yourself, so I started pulling away. Was it a good idea? Absolutely not, but it made sense to me. I thought I was going to save you from heartbreak in the future, but all I did was cause it now instead.
“I didn’t call after you left because I thought I did the right thing. I thought I was doing what was best for you, but then I heard your voice this morning and I knew I had to fix it, if you’d let me. I couldn’t let you think that I never loved you, because I do. I love you so much, and I will do anything to prove that to you, should you give me the chance.”
You sat there in silence, digesting the words that had just been said to you as you let out quiet sobs. For nearly the last year, you had believed that Quinn didn’t love you, and now he was saying the exact opposite. He was begging for another chance, and that was what you had wanted, right? It still was, but the damage that was done wasn’t going to be easily fixable. You would have to start back at the beginning, and you’re not sure if Quinn was willing to do that.
“Baby,” He whispered, your silence lighting his skin on fire with nerves, “I don’t know what’s going through your head, but I want you to know that I meant what I said. I will do whatever it takes to fix this mess I created. Anything.”
The gears were turning in your head, trying to conjure any sort of coherent thought to tell him that you wanted this, but you were scared. You’d put so much faith and trust into Quinn, and he tore all of that down out of fear. What if he did that again?
“I want to,” You whispered, “I do, but what if you do it again? I can’t go through it all over, Quinn. I felt like I was going to die without you, and I can’t go through losing you all over again if you get scared.”
You felt his weight lift off the sofa, and before you realized what was going on, he was wedging himself in between your legs in front of you. He cupped both of your cheeks in his hands so you were looking at him, and you swear you blacked out for a second. Just because Quinn had hurt you, doesn’t mean the effect he had on you went away.
“You won’t lose me ever again, okay? My heart belongs to you. My heart beats for you. I promise to love you for the rest of my life, even if you don’t love me for the rest of yours.”
His hands were still on your cheeks as you gulped down the lump in your throat, his pleading eyes darting all across your face. Lucky for you, your heart and your brain had linked together as you let out an almost silent, “Kiss me, please.”
And he did. Quinn’s lips were on yours in an instant, hands dropping down so he could pull you into his chest. The kiss was full of desperation and months of lost time as the two of you clung to each other. He was holding your hips so tightly that you’re fairly certain they were going to bruise, but you didn’t mind. You were pulling him into you just as desperately, afraid that he was somehow going to disappear from right in front of you.
He briefly pulled away so that he could sit on the couch, pulling you into his lap not long after. He quickly reattached his lips to yours, and he kissed you with so much fervor that it had your head spinning. You could feel some of your sadness melting away, being replaced by passion and desire for the man underneath you. Almost as if a switch had flipped within you. You shifted your hips on his lap, and a throaty moan escaped his swollen lips as he slightly threw his head back.
“Be careful with that,” He let out a breathy laugh, “You know what that does to me.”
There was a teasing glint in your eye as you spoke, “I know.”
“Fuck me,” He groaned, subtly moving your hips against him.
“If you insist,” You drew out, leaning down to ghost your lips over his neck.
He threw his head back against the couch and screwed his eyes shut as your warm breath fanned across his neck. Your eyes flicked up to his face, and you couldn’t help but let a mischievous smirk form before dragging your tongue across the expanse of his neck. He let out a string of profanities as you latched your mouth onto the spot you knew would send him spiraling, but you quickly pulled away and hopped off of him.
“I need to take a shower,” You announced, a teasing tone to your voice, “I’m still gross from the bar.”
Quinn’s eyes snapped open, watching as you began to walk away. Only when he heard you ask if you were going to join did he jump off the couch and scramble after you. He shed his clothes as he followed you to the bathroom, leaving a trail of fabric in his wake. By the time he had reached your bathroom, you’d already turned the shower on and rid yourself of your own clothes.
“I do not deserve you,” He mumbled as his eyes raked over your naked body. 
He’d already memorized every dip and curve of you, but he always treated it as if he was seeing all of you for the first time. Your body captivated him in all of the best ways, and it left Quinn breathless every time you graced him with it. He considered it a privilege to be able to bear witness to the Goddess of a woman in front of him, and he worshiped it like it was.
Despite all that has happened between the two of you, you still felt comfortable enough to share this part of you with Quinn. Unlike the guys who had seen you naked before, none of them treated it the way he did. He never made you feel insecure, and he always made every other part of you feel just as loved as your body. He admired your character, and even your flaws, all the same.
“You gonna stand there or are you going to join me,” You teased as you stepped into the shower. 
The water enveloped you like a welcomed hug, and you let out a sigh of relief as the stickiness from last night was washed away. You were facing towards the shower, eyes closed and head tilted back. You heard the curtain rings slide against the rod before you felt Quinn’s chest pressed against your back. You wiggled against his hardened length, and he took your teasing as a green light.
His fingers trailed up along your hip, across your waist before dancing over your breast. He made a point to slightly lift his touch so he just barely grazed your nipple, and you let out a whine when he did. His hand briefly paused when he reached your collarbone as if he was going to change his mind, but he carefully wrapped his fingers around your neck and leaned down to brush his lips against your ear.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” He whispered before dipping his head down and attaching his lips to your neck.
While one hand tilted your neck to give him better access, his free hand trailed down your stomach and towards your center. The knot in your stomach grew the closer he got, but he was taking his time with you. Relishing in the moment he never thought he would have again.
“Quinn,” You whimpered, “Please.”
“Please what, baby? I need you to use your words for me,” He briefly broke his contact with your neck.
“I need you to touch me, please,” You were begging him, needing him to give you the release that no other man has before.
“Good girl.”
He slid one finger into you, an almost pornagraphic moan echoing off the tiles of your bathroom. You threw your head back against his shoulder, gripping at the slick shower wall for any sort of support before your knees buckled from under you. He carefully moved his digit inside of you, stretching your walls so he could add another.
“Jesus, baby. You’re so tight,” He groaned into your ear.
“‘S because no one’s touched me- Oh fuck,” You cried out as he inserted another finger, “No one’s touched me since the last time you did.”
Quinn knew he shouldn’t be as turned on by that as he was, but he couldn’t help it. Knowing that you didn’t let another man have you the way that he did only made him harder, and he didn’t think that was possible.
You were writhing against him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, your moans filling his ears like they were his favorite song. He moved his thumb to press against your clit, and it was then that Quinn had to use his own strength to keep you standing. He worked his fingers against you, and he’s gotten you to the finish line enough times to know that you were already just about there, so he didn’t stop.
“Oh my god,” You cried out as his thumb rubbed circles and his fingers curled inside of you, “I’m almost the-Fuck.”
“I know, pretty girl. I know,” He murmured, keeping his pace steady.
Your legs are shaking and your vision becomes spotty as the knot inside you comes undone. He captures your lips with his own as you come all over his fingers, kissing you with the same amount of passion he’d had before everything happened. He was still supporting you with the hand that was previously on your neck, but you slowly regained the strength to support yourself as you came down from your high.
“You okay,” He asked, turning you around so that the water was no longer hitting your front.
“More than okay,” You gave him a sloppy smile, still slightly dazed from your orgasm.
“Good, because that was only the beginning,” He smirked, switching places with you so he could back you into the corner of your shower.
You watched as he turned and shifted the shower head so that it was spraying against the two of you as much. You pulled your brows together in confusion as you questioned him, “What about you?”
“What about me,” He feigned confusion as he slowly fell to his knees.
“You know what,” You quietly spoke, eyes wide in anticipation as his hands gripped your thighs.
“I’m getting all I need, baby. Don’t worry,” He glanced up at you, eyes sparkling with pleasure.
His fingers trailed against your thighs that were wet with a mix of water and your own juices. Goosebumps rose in wake of his touch, sending a shiver throughout your entire body. You kept glancing down at him with your lip pulled between your teeth, your heart still rapidly beating from your orgasm only minutes ago.
Quinn spread your legs with his hands before placing feathered kisses on the inside of your thighs, eliciting a few breathless moans from you. He stopped when he got against your aching core, his breath hitting it as he spared you one more glance.
With a swift movement, he was lifting your leg over his shoulder and then he was diving into you like it was his last meal. His facial hair was tickling your inner thighs, but all it did was add to the sensation flowing through your body. His hands were gripping at your legs to not only keep you steady, but to give him something to hold on to.
He was devouring you in a way that made it seem like he was enjoying it more than you were, but you highly doubted that to be true. His tongue worked against as he led you to yet another orgasm, mouth sucking and swirling in all of the right places. You tugged on his hair as you felt the familiar fire burning in your stomach, your head hitting against the tile wall.
Your second orgasm ripped through your body, rendering you temporarily blind yet again. He carefully placed your leg back beneath you, placing open mouth kisses against your stomach as he stood leaving behind a mixture of his saliva and your cum against your skin. He attacked your lips with his own in a dizzying kiss, his hands cupping and squeezing at your breasts.
“I’ve missed you so much,” He mumbled against your lips as he placed his forehead on yours.
“I missed you too. So much, Quinn,” Your eyes became misty with tears, but you tried to push them back.
“I’m not trying to ruin the moment or anything, but thank you for giving me a second chance. I definitely don’t deserve one, but I will keep my promise and do whatever it takes to win you back.”
You pressed a gentle, chaste kiss to his lips before saying, “Well, you can start by properly fucking me.”
The softness in Quinn’s eyes darkened to something full of desire and lust, but he still managed to keep the look of pure admiration and love. His hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you into his chest and meeting your lips with a hungry kiss. You could feel him pressed against your thigh, and it made the already wet pool between your legs worsen.
“Need you to hold on to me baby. Wanna look at you,” He instructed as he pulled away, gesturing for you to wrap your arms around his neck, “Good girl.”
Quinn rubbed himself between your folds, teasing your entrance and watching your face twist in desire and want. Slowly, he pushed himself inside of you and let out a mangled moan as your walls clenched around him. He paused and let you readjust to his size, doing his best to remain still and not roughly jerk his hips back.
“Move,” You whimpered, bucking your hips forward for any sort of friction, “Please move.”
With your pleading, Quinn was pulling himself nearly all the way out and slamming back in at a pace he knew you both liked. His thrusts were hard and deep, filling you in just the right way to leave you gasping for more. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on his hips to allow himself a better angle, and you swear you blacked out for a second. You were grateful for the strength he has from hockey or you’re certain you’d both be on the floor by now.
Your loud moans mixed with his own, surely filling the entirety of your apartment with the sound. A part of you hoped your neighbors couldn't hear, but a bigger part of you didn’t care. You finally had him back, and the both of you were making up for lost time. His hips snapped against your own as he brought his free hand back up to your neck, squeezing at the sides with the pressure he knew wouldn't hurt you.
You were clenching around him, sending him into a fit of blinding, white hot ecstasy. No matter times Quinn had imagined you when he fucked his own hand, it was absolutely nothing compared the real thing. Watching as your eyes screwed shut and his name fell from your lips in desperate whines was a sight he would never get tired of.
“Oh my god, Quinn,” You shakily cried out, your eyes rolling backwards and the top of your head hitting against the shower wall as he thrusted into you, “Jesus, fuck.”
“Such a pretty girl,” He praised as his hand dove between your bodies, his fingers coming to rub at the bundle of nerves, “You look so pretty wrapped around me, you know that? Fuck, you feel so good.”
You were gripping at his back as he split you open, your vision coming in and out as he rubbed at your overstimulated clit and repeatedly slammed into you. Your name was tumbling from his lips in grunts, only tightening the coil in your stomach as his forehead dropped to your shoulder. You could feel the heat swirling inside you as he rammed himself into you, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.
“Quinn, I’m going to- I’m gonna,” You stuttered as he worked himself deeper, harder.
“I know, baby. Let go,” He whispered your name like it was holy and just, “Come all over my cock, pretty girl.”
His words sent you flying over the edge, your third orgasm of the night sending you into a fit of unmistakable pleasure. Waves of contractions washed over your body as Quinn fucked you through your orgasm, his own crashing over him not too far after. His thrusts became sloppy and slow as he came inside of you, his head burying itself into the crook of your neck as he let out stifled moans against the skin.
You’re not sure how long you clung to each other with him still inside you, sounds of your heavy breathing replacing the previous moans that were probably still echoing somewhere in your apartment. However, what felt like hours but was probably not even five minutes later, Quinn pulled himself out of you, guiding your still shaking leg back down and keeping your body upright.
“Time to get cleaned up, yeah,” He teased, his thumb and forefinger coming up to grab your chin.
“Good thing we’re already in the shower,” You bantered back, eyelids slowly drooping courteous of the man in front of you. 
You lazily pulled Quinn back into your hold, meeting his lips for yet another searing kiss. Yet this time, there was no desperation. There was no hunger. There was only love, and hope. Hope that, despite the damage that has been caused, the two of you will return to the best version of yourselves and let yourselves be happy without worry or fear.
again, please let me know if you see any mistakes. and let me know what you think! xoxox
859 notes · View notes
90ekz · 11 months
Text
across the map.
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☾ summary: usually onyankapon likes to keep his face shaven and sleek, but once he notices how you can’t keep your eyes off his new facial feature, he has other plans.
☆ tags: black fem reader, chubby reader, facial hair kink (??? idk man), sub!ony for like 2 seconds, overstimulation, porn w small plot, teasing, creampie, p in v, liberal use of “ma” & “mama”, mention of pregnancy, not proofread, vaginal fingering, onyan & y/n are roommates in college, business major onyan <3
♡ a/n: sorry for being gone so long, i’ve literally been so busy 😭😭, but thank y’all for 500 followers !!! the support means the world to me.
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it wasn’t even intentional.
onyankapon had gotten so busy with his classes overseas that he’d slipped up on his weekly shave. he typically didn’t grow facial hair very fast anyway, but all of a sudden his goatee was sprouting like weeds.
he couldn’t figure out why, until he’d locked eyes with the facial serum connie had gifted him for his birthday. dumbass.
in theory, onyankapon should’ve already shaved it. he told himself that he wouldn’t do it the night before his flight, but he really didn’t have time to keep up with that promise.
and he was lazy.
onyankapon tried to ignore it, but everytime he went to touch his face he was reminded of it, and it just made him cringe. he was finally going home to you tomorrow, and he wanted to look perfect for his baby.
when he’d left home three weeks ago, you were so sympathetic and understanding about the lack of time you were gonna have to talk but still a bit somber, knowing your conversations would be reduced to good morning & good night texts.
now, he stood over his hotel room sink, attempting to both not fall asleep and shave at the same time.
it wasn’t working.
“fuck it. not even finna do allat,” he just flicked the bathroom light off, knowing had a long flight in the morning and it was already nearing one in the morning. he just hoped you wouldn’t be too uncomfortable with his stubble.
the next morning, onyankapon felt his lips curl upward when he received a million texts of you being so giddy about him coming home.
sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: BAE
sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: OMG BABY UR COMING HOME 2DAY
sweet cheeks 🤞🏾: HAVE A GOOD FLIGHT BABY ILYSMMMM
the whole flight home, all onyankapon could think of was your plush lips against his and that round ass that he would inevitably be fondling soon. the woman next to him probably thought he was a psychopath from the way he was randomly giggling to himself.
walking off the plane and eventually into the baggage pick up area where he finally saw your face for the first time in almost a month, onyankapon was overwhelmed.
the way your face lit up when you saw him, your body in that pretty little skims dress, god.
he felt like he was in love again for the first time.
you threw yourself into his arms and he was just as excited to see you, but he couldn’t help but kneed the fat of your ass as you kissed him senseless.
“have some shame, we’re in public.”
“can’t help it. my sweet lil’ thing, i missed you…” you gasped as he gripped your ass once more, but not for the reason he thought you did. your eyes had finally zeroed in on his newly bearded face, and you couldn’t help the ache that suddenly appeared downward.
you never saw onyankapon’s facial hair, or rather, he never even gave you the opportunity to see it. as soon as you jokingly commented on how his stubble was tickling you, he was in the bathroom with the door locked while the clippers released a small whirring sound in the background.
you’d always been curious. you liked a lil goatee here and there, but it was never a major turn on or anything.
but on your nigga? yeah, you needed him bad.
he wet his lips as he peered down at you, even giving you a peek of his shiny diamond grill as he smiled at you. you trailed behind him slightly as he led you to your car, trying not to stumble from the heartbeat down below.
“shiiii, slut me out.”
“whatchu say, ma?”
“nun! cmon boy, you walk slow.”
onyankapon let his hands wander the whole drive home. on your thigh, rubbing against your nipples, even rubbing small circles onto your clit at one point.
you two barely got into the house before onyankapon was caging you against the wall and attacking your neck with his teeth. all you could hyperfocus on was the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin.
your hand snaked to rub the sweet spot on his neck, smiling to yourself as he turned to putty. he smiled into your neck, his own hands wandering under the seam of your dress. his eyebrows jumped upward at your wetness.
“fuck.. all this for me mama?” you nod weakly as he immediately pushes two fingers knuckle deep into you, already knowing that you’d been preparing yourself for when he got home.
any words this man was saying to you were barely making it into your ears. anytime onyankapon spoke, you were immediately drawn to his lips and chin, and just how mature he looked.
it was almost sophisticated.
“been gone for so long and you won’t even focus on me. makin’ me sad, baby.” onyankapon breathed out, still a bit in disbelief that you were finally in his arms again. his fingers worked an almost melodic rhythm inside of your cunt, while his palm kept your clit company.
“more—fuck, onyyy,” you couldn’t help but whine out louder as his stubble scratched against your neck once more. the scratch only added to the knot threatening to burst in your stomach.
“shit, get these off mama.” onyankapon tugged at your dress and the panties underneath, silently begging you to get rid of them.
“you nasty.”
“you want me to make you nut or nah?” you just smacked your lips and removed your dress. his eyebrow quirked when you didn’t immediately take off the panties and bra accompanying it, but he dropped to his knees nonetheless.
you shivered at his warm breath ghosting against your clothed pussy. he continued to lap and lick at you, leaving a heavy feeling in your gut.
yet you still wanted more.
you wanted more for the sole purpose of feeling his chin hair scratch and rub against your pussy, your neck, all over you, wherever he wanted.
“c-can you—fuck!” onyankapon just smiled at you, already knowing what you wanted him to do, all you needed to do was beg for it. he just continued his skillful movements, just wanting to tease you for a little longer.
“what can i do for you, my love?”
onyankapon struggled to conceal his laugh, because he expected that you wouldn’t beg to him, not without a lot of coaxing that is.
what he didn’t expect was for you to slip your panties down while he wasn’t looking and stuff his face nose-deep in your cunt without warning. his eyes grew wide as you started shamelessly fucking his face, while he struggled to not choke on his own moans.
between your essence dripping down his chin, the grip on the back of his neck and your whines, onyankapon’s cock found itself getting much stiffer much quicker than he anticipated.
every bump of your clit against his nose against his nose sent a zap to his dick. he just sat and took it, his grip on your thighs tightening so much that he started to wonder if he was gonna break skin.
sex with ony’ wasn’t usually this rough, but three weeks away from each other had your bodies screaming the second you came together again. he really didn’t know how you’d react to seeing him again, but he hadn’t considered that you’d be this dominant.
neither did he think about how much he’d like it.
you pulled him away suddenly, presumably so he could catch his breath. onyankapon could swear that you were talking to him, but his mind was completely gone.
“‘m sorry, mama. ‘shouldn’t have done it, just lemme please you.”
before you could respond, his tongue was roughly digging you out, his grip on your waist being the only thing keeping you on earth. he didn’t stop licking until you’d cum on his tongue twice and were begging him to stop.
“ooh, ony—too much..”
he barely cared, making that known as he continued to press kitten licks to your sensitive hole.
“hey—boy are you even listening to me?” onyankapon gave you a stank look as you pushed him away with your foot. you couldn’t help but laugh at how badly this nigga wanted you.
“i wasn’t done.” suddenly you were being flipped over and onyankapon’s thick cock was laying against the skin of your stomach. he looked just about ready to rip you apart.
he gave your clit a few taps before pushing home, the action making your eyes roll back. he didn’t hesitate to slam himself into you roughly back to back, the meat of your ass slamming against his balls.
onyankapon began to kiss on your neck, and smirked into the crook of it when he felt your cunt spasm around him.
“missed you so much ony—needed t-this..”
“fuck, missed you so much more.. such a good girl…” his thrusts only sped up as you whined his name louder and louder with each kiss his cock placed against your cervix. his grip on your waist was tight enough to leave bruises, as he latched onto you like he was afraid you’d slip away from him.
without any warning, onyankapon strokes his fingers against your clit, and your losing your mind while cumming on his cock. he just coos at you, wondering what he did to deserve you. the overstim quickly sets in though, and you’re not-so quietly begging him to slow down.
“shhh, i know you can give me one more ma, i know you can…”
‘one more’ turned into two, three, and eventually four drawn out orgasms, all sprayed onto onyankapon’s lower abdomen. fuckin’ liar. “mmhm, want me to nut in you mama? want this mini-me in you, yeah?” all you could do is nod weakly as he pumped you full, his thrusts finally slowing. your eyes cracked open to see him smirking down at you while he languidly stroked your cheek to make sure you were still with him.
“you so cute. you still with me?”
“mmm.”
onyankapon just smirked as he got some things to wipe you up with. after a few minutes, you finally started to sit up and recover, only to get an immediate attitude with him.
“i can’t believe i let you nut in me,” you mumbled as he turned on the newest episode of General Hospital. he just laughed at you, not being worried considering you’re on birth control.
“you’re so into the beard, you woulda begged me to anyway.” you just scoffed before walking to the bathroom to pee, knowing that he was right but not wanting to admit it.
“i was not.”
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1K notes · View notes
You should do earth 42!miles x cheerleader! Reader that would be so fun!
Be Aggressive! B-E Aggressive
Earth 42!Miles Morales x fem!reader 
Earth 42!Miles Morales x black!reader
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: Language, kissing, brief mentions of drugging, and mentions of steroids.
Requested: yes 
A/N: ITS BEEN SO LONG, I’m so sorry school started two days ago to requests may slow down but they’re still coming slowly but surely, this is my first time doing headcanons and I feel like the blurbs or drabbles or wtv their called end so abruptly but this has been a WIP for a month now so I’m putting it out there, I hope you enjoy while I move on to the next request. 
300 Follower Special <3
Masterlist
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-Carries ibuprofen on him 24/7 because he knows you’re gonna ask for it. 
“Here,” Miles held his hand out in front of you revealing two small red pills. 
You turned to him grabbing your cheer bag out of your locker, the picture of confusion. 
“For your headache,” He explained. 
“I don’t have a headache, you tryna drug me?” 
“With ibuprofen, really?” He deadpanned “Take it so I don’t have to hear about your headache later,”   
“Awww, you’re so sweet,” You pulled him into a hug gushing over how considerate he was to not want you in pain. 
“Shut up,” He turned his face away without pulling away from you. 
Although he would never say it to your face he’d gone entirely soft for you. 
-Goes to football games despite not fully understanding it to see you 
“Miles!” You squeaked when he came up behind you on the bleachers and wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you down onto the bench. 
You turned around, facing him to find a tray of nachos in his hand. 
He placed it down next to you for you to grab before sitting down on the step behind you. 
You let out a groan and glanced back at your coach who was still standing by the benches on the football field. 
There were only 12 minutes left of halftime and now that you were standing still you realized truly just how cold you were. 
“Baby, you’re shivering,” Miles ran his hand up and down your arm.
“I know,” You whined. “Reina forget her warm-ups so coach won’t let us put them on,”
He hummed gesturing for you to stand up, you did and he pulled off his jacket helping you slip your arms into it, and zipping it all the way up. 
He pulled your hair out of the back. 
Still unconvinced that you’d gotten any warmer he pulled you into his lap surrounding your waist with his arms. 
You raised your eyebrow at him but you felt so comfortable that you relaxed into him and let it slide. 
That was until he started running his hands up and down your exposed thighs. 
“Miles.” You warned your voice tight. 
He continued what he was doing, acting oblivious. 
“What ma, I’m just warming you up,” He leaned forward picking at your skirt. “It’s so short I know you’re cold,” 
You pushed one of his hands away and he immediately put it back returning to his affections. 
“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” You complained. PDA was very clearly outlined in the forbidden behaviors in your cheer contract. 
“C’mon,” He rolled his eyes glancing down at your coach “She’s not even looking, relax” 
“Alright,” You cautioned, moving to stand up. 
He rushed to pull you back down into his lap. 
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,”  He stilled his hands. “One kiss and I’ll leave you alone,” 
-carries you on his back after practice
Cheer practice ran 2 hours late and you already hadn’t gotten much sleep last night trying to finish your homework. You were aching and exhausted. 
Trudging up to your boyfriend at the edge of the track you gave him a meek nod of acknowledgment. Knowing you were drained he just slid your cheer bag off your shoulder before pulling it onto his. 
After your third stumble into Miles’ side, he stopped walking, giving you the opportunity to fully lean on him. 
Your eyes were drooping and appeared to be as if you were one strong breeze from falling over. 
“Get on my back,” He suggested. 
You nodded through a yawn, shuffling to get behind him. 
He quickly knelt down making it easier for you to simultaneously wrap your arms and legs around him. 
Hoisting you up with him to his full height he readjusted your bag on his shoulder. 
He held both of your thighs securely while your arms dangled around his neck. Your head dropped into his neck and you let out a content hum.
He continued his pace to get to the front of the school. 
With your calf’s swinging back and forth your grip on Miles’ neck loosened. 
He asked a small “You comfy?” 
When he was met with silence he chuckled to himself knowing you were asleep. 
Once he’d finally made the trek to the front of the school he located your brother's truck. 
He was sitting in the front seat on his phone with his head down before Miles knocked on the window. 
Pulling the passenger door open with a click, he slid you off his back before lifting you up into the passenger seat. 
You huffed making a sound of discomfort, shifting in your seat when your brother finally verbally acknowledged Miles. 
They both froze before your breathing evened out and you stilled with your neck below the headrest.
Satisfied with the knowledge that you weren’t going to wake up, Miles responded to your brother. 
“Alright, I’ll see you later,” He closed the door before stepping back and watching your brother drive off with your sleeping figure in tow. 
-stares at and distracts you when you do comp. makeup 
As you were struggling to get your larger-than-life lashes to fit to your lash line you felt a pair of eyes on you.
Glancing in the side of your vanity mirror you saw your boyfriend lying on your bed watching you. 
“Can I help you?” You asked turning back around and grabbing your eyelash curler. 
Seconds later you felt a presence at your back, looking up you made eye contact with Miles through the mirror. 
Not leaving your question unanswered he asked what that was. 
“What’s what?” 
“The thing in your hand,” He replied as if it were obvious. 
“Ohhh, my eyelash curler,”  
He seemed satisfied enough with your answer to continue his silent staring. That was until you held the tool up to your eye.  
“You’re gonna poke your eye out,” He startled you. 
“It doesn’t even touch my eye,” You pulled it away from yourself. 
“Is it hot?” He asked, reaching for it. 
You pulled your hand away before standing, lifting the item to his eye. “Let me show you,” 
“Hell no,” He pushed your arm away, wrestling you back down into your chair. 
“C’mon please,” You whined. 
He simply shook his head and took a step back from your chair. At first, you were just trying to be irritating, but now you were really interested in curling your boyfriend’s beautiful and freakishly long eyelashes. 
You kept begging and although you kept receiving denials, you knew you could break his resolve. 
“If you keep fucking around, you’re gonna be late,” He reminded you.  
“We would’ve been gone by now if you weren’t being a baby,” 
“Y/N! Let’s go, I’m leaving!” Your brother and ride yelled from the front door.
“Okay, I’m coming!” You answered before turning towards Miles again. “Just one eye really fast, please,” 
Before he could open his mouth to say no you leaned up wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his. 
He sighed, grabbing your lower waist with both hands. 
He rested against your vanity and pulled you to stand between his legs. He kissed you harder than appropriate for the time constraint and you pulled away before he could take it further. 
He was panting against your face so when you said “I’m just gonna do one eye,” and because you knew you could break his resolve, he didn’t protest. 
-his only media on his Instagram is a highlight of videos of you cheering and photos of you he doesn’t even have a pfp
Today, 7:37 PM
miles 😋❤️: Send me that picture 
you: what picture? 
Miles 😋❤️: The one I took of you on your phone from the last game 
you: i’ll havr to look for it 
have** 
miles 😋❤️: Okay so look fast 
you: nigga don’t tell me what to do
just wait 
miles 😋❤️: Yes ma’am 🫡
Today, 7:46 PM
you: Sent 3 attachments 
Putting your phone back down on your desk you started on your math study guide. 
That you knew would take all night. Your math teacher never believed in giving students with extracurriculars extensions.
 He wasn’t even supposed to give tests on game days, but he never followed any of the rules. 
After graphing another equation your phone screen lit up with a notification. 
m.morales added a photo to their story 
Picking up your phone and unlocking it you opened Instagram to find a collage made of the pics you’d just sent him.  
You couldn’t help but smile looking at the story of you in your cheer uniform smiling widely at the camera. The last verse of Dark Red by Steve Lacy playing over the story post. 
Shifting your thumb to the heart icon on the bottom right you liked Miles’ story before moving to reply. 
y/u/n: thank you this is the cutest most sweetest thing in the world 🫶🏽 💋  
m.morales: Yw, my mom said you looked very pretty 
y/u/n: tell her I said thank you  
m.morales: I will
y/u/n: you should've tagged me
m.morales: No I don’t want nobody tryna dm you 
-doesn’t let you kiss him on the lips w lipgloss/lipstick on (secretly does like seeing the marks left on his face tho) 
You gasped, placing your hand over your heart in faux pain. 
“How dare you?” You asked. 
Sitting with your knees bracketing Miles' waist on the edge of his bed you questioned him on dodging your kiss. With how clingy he is he would never turn down affection. 
“Wipe that stuff off your lips and I’ll kiss you,” 
“Toxic masculinity is not a good look on you,” You tsked.
“Nothing toxic about not wanting sticky shit all over your mouth,” 
You rolled your eyes at his response before speaking up. “My bad, forgot you were autistic,” 
“I’m not autistic,” He fired back immediately. 
“M’kay Mr. Sensory Issues,” 
Instead of defending himself again or trying to change the subject he just leaned back into his wall, crossed his arms over his chest, and pouted.  
You tried not to laugh at how childish he was being and instead cooed at him pressing a kiss to his cheek, then the other. 
Pulling back you viewed the two lip marks left behind and the small involuntary smile on his face. 
Leaning back in, you returned to your ministrations amongst his skin. 
When all of your lipgloss and stick was transferred off you sat back on your heels admiring your work. 
Extending your body you reached for your phone resting near his pillow. Returning to your previous position you grabbed his face taking pictures of him with closed eyes and the goofy smile on his face. 
Clicking on the small photo icon to enlarge it you flipped your phone around to show your no longer pouting boyfriend. 
Squinting to see the picture Miles looked at the kiss marks littered across his cheeks, forehead, and jaw, he pretended to not care, while he forced himself to conceal the giddy smile that wanted to break out across his face. 
-his mom loves you more than he does “calls you her mini daughter-in-law”  but disproves of the “short” skirt 
When Miles first introduced you to his mother she was skeptical. You were her baby’s first girlfriend, he was all she had left. How did she know if you were trying to take him from her?
But now you were all she could ever talk about. She treated you like a daughter. 
“When’s Y/N getting here, I want to see her before I leave,” Rio asked in her blue scrubs grabbing a banana off the counter. 
“She texted and said she’s 2 minutes out,” Miles answered sitting on the couch in his Visions uniform, his backpack on the floor next to him. 
Down on the street, you closed the door to your brother's truck before throwing your backpack strap over your shoulder. 
Saying goodbye to your brother you ran up to the Morales’ door. 
Immediately after opening the door, Mrs. Morales pulled you into a tight hug. 
She asked how her “little daughter-in-law” had been but before you could finish responding she was releasing you from her arms. 
Once you were at arm's length she spun you to the side. Furrowing her brows she plucked at the fabric of your cheer skirt. 
With a sigh and a shake of her, she muttered to herself “What is the school thinking, making these outfits so short,” 
Sliding past her as she moved to finish off her morning routine, you greeted your boyfriend near the couch. 
You pressed a quick kiss to Miles's cheek and he immediately perked up from his fatigued before-school mood. 
He stood up a little taller, his display of confidence was however broken by a loud laugh from across the apartment. 
With your boyfriend’s and your attention on her, Rio explained the cause of her amusement. 
“Look at how much happier he is, 5 minutes ago he was like an angry old man,” 
She moved closer to the both of you to coo at her son. 
“How cute, he missed you. Every time you leave he goes into his room and-“
Before she could embarrass him even more Miles interrupted. 
“Mami, you’re gonna be late for work.” He attempted to usher her out the door. 
“Miles don’t be rude, let her speak,” You chimed in wanting to hear whatever embarrassing thing she had to say now. 
“No, no,” Rio dismissed you with a wave of her hand. “He’s right, I’ll just tell you later,” 
She gave each of you and Miles a kiss on the cheek before grabbing her messenger bag on her way out the door. 
As the door clicked shut you smiled up at your boyfriend. 
“So…” You dragged out, “You gonna tell me what she was talking about?” 
-reluctantly goes to fundraisers you have to cheer/be present at 
You sat on your couch pouting up at Miles as he stood in front of you. 
“Don’t you have friends you can go with?” 
“Yeah, but I wanna go with my boyfriend, or do you not love me anymore?”
He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands.
 “Don’t start,” He warned. 
“I don’t understand, why won’t you love me?” 
“Baby it’s hot outside,”
“I have to go though, so just come with me,”
It’d been a whole 5 minutes of you trying to convince Miles to accompany you to the school-sanctioned car wash. It was mandatory for the cheerleaders to attend. Your coach had a habit of enthusiastically signing you all up for fundraisers that she would only have to work the snack booth while you did all the work. 
“I literally never see you anymore come on,” You whined trying a different approach. 
“I’m literally standing in front of you now,”  He mocked you.  
“Miles,” You whined. 
“Y/N,” He copied you with the same inflection. 
Giving up, you told him you didn’t even care if he went anymore. 
Pouting again you closed in on yourself. Miles sat back down next to you and you scooted to the other end. 
Scrolling through your phone you obnoxiously laughed out loud every few minutes and when Miles asked you what was so funny you pretended not to hear him. 
He knew you were going to continue your childish antics until he gave in and went to this carwash in the high 90° weather. 
“Alright, I’ll go with you,” He conceded. 
With a satisfied smile on your face, you hopped up off the couch. You leaned over and pressed a peck to his lips muttering a small thank you. 
“Let me go change,” You ran to your room. “Don’t leave, I’ll be quick!”
“Where would I go?” He yelled back. 
-Gets phantom pains from your tight ponytails 
“Does that not hurt?” 
“It does but you get used to it,” 
You’d grown accustomed to the pain that came with having your hair pulled up into a tight high ponytail for the majority of AAU and comp season. 
Miles however was appalled by this revelation. Every time your face so much slightly twitches in pain he was obnoxiously groaning claiming that you two were connected and he could feel it. 
“I don’t wanna look at it anymore,” Instead of turning away as any sane person would’ve done, he reached over and slid the hair tie out of your hair. 
The release of the tension pulling on your head lets you relax a bit more, your headache slowly fading away. 
“Ridiculous,” You heard your boyfriend mutter. 
“What?” You asked unsure if that was meant for your ears or not. 
“Look at your hair,” 
Narrowing your eyes at him you pulled up the camera on your phone to find a sizable dent in your hair where the rubber band had once been. 
“That’s why you have a headache all the time,” He lectured, moving over you, to massage your scalp. 
“Probably,” You answered, sighing and leaning back into his arms. He complained again about how your hairstyle was too tight claiming “all your hair is gonna fall out” 
“‘Kay, I won’t do it so tight next time,” You lied. 
-believes you should 100% be captain doesn’t matter if there’s someone “better” than you 
“Catherine is like objectively better than me at cheer and she’s a senior there’s no reason she shouldn’t be captain,” You had to explain to your boyfriend after the cheer positions had come out that you were only a sophomore and having a position on varsity was actually really good. 
He however didn’t agree. “She’s probably on steroids,” 
You laughed at the absurdity of his claim. “No one is taking high school serious enough to do steroids,”
“I think she should get tested anyways,” 
“Not everyone that’s better than me is on steroids,” 
“‘Nobody’s better than you,” He argued. “And if they were it’s only ‘cause of steroids.” 
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©guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom
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buckyalpine · 2 years
Text
Wait, what?
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Bucky x pregnant reader 
A/N: My first request ever from @slutforsexyseabass this made me so happy, I LOVE concepts like this. Such a sucker for hidden relationships, I hope I did this justice, I will 100% rewrite this if you imagined it differently. I loved this concept SO much, I wrote this with three different endings. What the hell is wrong with me? Everything :) Cutest concept ever, thank you for this. Please like, comment and reblog <3 
Warnings: Angst and fluff!! Pregnancy, swearing Word count: 3.9k  (I’m so sorry, i just kept adding each time I imagined the ending differently) 
Back story + baby Barnes (sort of part 2?)
I do (again) part 3?
4 months ago
“Are you sure you want this?”
You sighed, having spent the last hour trying to convince Fury to let you transfer to a desk job. Granted, it was an odd request coming from you because you loved your role as an Avenger and you had sworn you wouldn’t leave the job for anything else.
“Is there a specific reason you want to transfer agent?” He gave you a pointed look, clearly insinuating he already knew why you wanted this transfer.
“I-its for the best, at least for a little while” You fiddled with a pen on his desk, looking all around the room, avoiding eye contact. Fury nodded, you knew he knew.
“Alright. I’ll approve it. You understand when you transfer, visits and interactions with your teammates are not permitted under any circumstances. How does 1 year and 9 months sound?”
Your face heated up, as you chuckled, nodding. “It sounds perfect. Thank you” You made your way to the door with your transfer starting immediately.  
“Congratulations Agent. To you and Mr. Barnes”  
Present
“I miss y/n” Sam poked at the flavorless oatmeal in front of him, annoyed there were no longer fresh muffins to eat first thing in the morning. The baking habit you picked up at 3:00AM when you couldn’t sleep was sorely missed. “I only bothered to get out of bed for those fluffy chocolaty babies”
“Well I lost my venting and shopping partner” Nat huffed; she’d managed to drag Wanda along occasionally but it wasn’t the same. Plus venting was boring when the person can already read your thoughts.
“I know what you’re thinking” Wanda playfully glared at Nat, “I didn’t even get to say bye to her, she just packed her things and left the day she was transferred”
“I didn’t get to see her either, we were on a mission and all I got was a message from Fury saying she’s moving to the upper floor in SHIELD” Tony tried not to show it but he was the most upset over you leaving. You brought the team together and without you there, it felt like a piece was missing.
“Yeah it’s not the same without her” Steve said as the rest of the team hummed in agreement, all sharing little moments they shared with you and how they wished you were back. Well, everyone except Bucky.
“What about you Buck?” Sam looked over to the silent super soldier, who was sipping his black coffee, sans his favorite chocolate chip muffin. “I know you at least miss the muffins, who doesn’t”
“I guess? I ate them if they were there but I can still get out of bed without them bird brain” Bucky went back to his coffee while Tony cocked his head, unable to understand how Bucky didn’t seem to care, but in all fairness, the both of you never really interacted much outside of missions.
“C’mon cyborg, is there not one thing you miss about her?”
Bucky shook his head shrugging, “We talked during missions but I didn’t have any connection with her, we never talked that way”
“Makes sense, you’re always holed away in your room like a hobbit- Ow!” Sam smirked, earning a smack from Steve. “I’m just saying!”
“Well you missed out, she’s a sweet heart” Nat got up from her seat making her way to the gym, “Oh, and I lost my sparring partner!”
***
“Bucky’s down, I need back up on the east side of the base” Steve shouted into the coms, panic rising in his chest, his own energy depleting. The rubble from the destroyed Hydra building was becoming more and more difficult to move as he tried to get to his best friend.
“C’mon Buck,” He panted, throwing off blocks of concrete, seeing the glint of Bucky’s metal arm underneath. The dust clouded his lungs as he heaved, a sudden blast from the sky easily turning the concrete into dust. Tony quickly cleared the area as Sam and Steve pulled Bucky from beneath.
“FRIDAY check his vitals”
“Scanning, vitals unstable, Mr. Barnes has experienced head trauma, 3 fractured ribs, severe blood loss, 3 open wounds to the abdomen. His blood pressure continues to drop”
“Shit, FRIDAY, alert the MedBay to be on standby, 1 hour” Tony and Sam managed to carry Bucky off to the jet and Steve trailed behind, his heart racing having already lost Bucky once. The medical team quickly whisked him away as soon as the jet landed, applying pressure to the wounds and hooking him up to machines, struggling to revive him.
“He’ll be okay” Sam squeezed Steve’s shoulder reassuringly, walking him over to an infirmary to get patched up, unsure of his own words.
***
The team sat around the waiting room, the air laced with anxiety and burning questions as they waited for the doctor to give them an update.  They’d all had their fair share of bad injures and near death experiences though Bucky had never been injured this badly thanks to the serum. This time was different. Steve’s head shot up as soon as he heard the surgery doors open, running to the doctor as she approached them.
“How is he?”
“Well, his vitals are stable now. He’s awake and we’ve moved him to the recovery ward but he’s going to have to sit out on missions for a while. The serum will take care of the minor scars and fractures but it’ll take some time for the other injuries. He got lucky you were able to get him here in time”
“Can we see him?” Steve was well aware that patients weren’t allowed visitors unless they were family, especially if they were still just recovering but he felt like his head was going to explode. The team was the closest thing he had to a family. He noticed Dr. Cho’s hesitation, his eyes pleading with her, “Please? Just to know he’s okay?”
 Dr. Cho smiled shaking her head, “I told him to rest but he said you’d probably be worried sick. Don’t stay in there too long, he has to rest. The adrenaline is keeping him up for now”
Steve entered the room fist, with the team behind him, breathing a sigh of relief seeing a tired and injured but alive Bucky slightly propped up on the bed. Bucky blinked, his vision fuzzy as his eyes focused on Steve, Sam, Tony and Nat.
“Hey pal” Steve sat in the chair beside the bed, swallowing thickly when he saw the gashes that covered his arm and the bandages that wrapped around his torso. “How do you feel?”
Bucky mustered a small smile, hardly able to speak from exhaustion. “Like shit”
“You look like shit” Sam mused from the side, “Glad you’re okay Buck”
Bucky smirked, nodding, his eyes heavy from the pain medication.
***
You ran down the hall as best as you could, your heart racing, tears blurring your vision. You slowed down for a moment to catch your breath, a hand suddenly coming from behind to support you making you gasp.
“It’s just me; you know you shouldn’t be running right now, here sit down for a moment”
Dr. Cho smiled softly, leading you to a seat, giving you a chance to slow your breathing down. She got up for a moment, coming back with a glass of water and handing you a tissue, letting you sip slowly and dry your tears.
“I-I h-have to see him” You took a few deep breaths, fiddling with the ring on your finger, your voice cracking.
“I know, but you have to take it easy too, stress isn’t good for you right now, I promise everything went well. He’s out of surgery and recovering. He’s got a number of visitors in there, I’m going to see how he’s doing and then I’ll come get you, okay?”
You nodded; your breathing had steadied but your heart continued to race, you wouldn’t be able to relax until you saw him, his blue eyes; home and your safe place.
Dr. Cho entered the recovery room, checking on Bucky’s heart monitor and blood pressure before turning to him. She spoke lowly though she knew it would be useless in a room full of avengers who had enhanced hearing and lip reading capabilities.  
“Mr. Barnes, you have one more visitor” Bucky smiled softly, his heart fluttering causing the heart monitor line to jerk up and down, beeping suddenly. “I can ask everyone to leave if you want your privacy?”
Bucky shook his head, everyone there was family. It was time they knew. “No, let them stay”
Steve sat up, wide eyed, watching the heart monitor scream as Bucky’s heart continued to race. Dr. Cho patted his shoulder, hiding a smile as she walked out to get you. “He’s okay”
Steve sat back in his chair breathing out a sigh of relief, sitting back up again as he registered Dr. Cho’s words. “Wait, one more visitor?” He looked at Bucky for an answer but the super soldier looked down at his hands instead, cheeks flushed, hoping to hide the mischievous smile playing on his lips.
“Another visitor, who else is there, you got a secret wife?” Tony smirked, his brow quirked with curiosity. Those closest to Bucky were already there so who else would come to visit him?
“Baby” You walked through the doors, rushing straight for Bucky, gently cupping his face in your hands, placing feather light kisses all over his cheeks. You stroked his forehead as he leaned into your touch, kissing your palm and using the bit of strength he had to pull you to sit on the bed with him.
“Hey babydoll” Bucky looked at you with heart eyes, his hand caressed your face, wiping away some of the tears that rolled down your cheek. “Shh, I’m okay bubba”
“Babydoll? Did ya’ll just hear that, he said babydoll right? That’s y/n, who is babydoll” Sam was sure he’d need the heart monitor next, leaning against the wall for extra support.
“What the hell is happening” Tony’s eyes were as wide as dinner plates unsure if he was experiencing sympathy head trauma, unable to comprehend a thing that was going on.
“I was so worried about you Bucky” You nuzzled against, him breathing in his scent as you placed your hand on his chest, his steady heart beat relaxing your nerves.  
“I’m okay baby, I promise” Bucky kissed your forehead before resting it against yours; nothing else mattered in that moment.  Except for the fact that everyone was staring at you both. The team stood wide eyed, jaws on the floor as Bucky held you close.
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on here? Did Thanos snap his fingers, did I end up in a different timeline, Tony I told you to let the wizard take care of it- ow!” Tony flicked Sam’s ear, his eyes still glued to you and Bucky. Steve and Nat looked at each other hoping the other would have answers but both looked equally lost.
“Did you…?” Nat whispered, nodding her head towards you both as Steve shook his head, smiling watching his best friend deep in love. Bucky continued to gaze at you, the rest of the world nonexistent when you were with him.
“How’s my little peanut?”
Nat gasped as Bucky brought his hand to your little baby bump, his hand resting on your tummy rubbing small comforting circles to soothe you. You heard a whimper from the corner, as Sam tried to discreetly dab his eyes on Tony’s shirt.
“You okay there bird brain?” Bucky smirked, his hand lacing with yours on top of your tummy, the ring on your finger glinting, catching Tony’s attention.
“Okay, now can you tell us what going on?”
“I guess I should introduce you to the team then?” Bucky looked at you as you nodded, snuggling against him biting your lip nervously.
“How hard did you hit your head Buck, we know y/n” Sam’s voice cracked watching you giggle, your face glowing as you smiled at the team. Bucky squeezed your hand in his, his heart racing again as he spoke.
“This is my wife, y/n Barnes”
The team stood in silence, taking a moment to let Bucky’s words register before they leapt towards you as carefully as they could, making sure they didn’t crush you or Bucky in their gigantic hug. There wasn’t a dry eye in the room as congratulations poured out, each person reluctant to let go of you. Nat squealed at your growing tummy, as you brought her hand to feel the tiny flutters kicking inside.
“I can’t believe you kept this a secret,” Sam shook his head, his eyes glassy as they landed on your baby bump “Is that why you transferred? Also you two have SO much explaining to do. When, how, where, what the hell?! Look at this man; did you ever think you’d see terminator give someone heart eyes?”
Bucky snorted as you shook your head giggling; you figured you’d have to explain yourself at some point. “We started dating 4 years ago actually, a little after he moved into the compound-”
“Hang on, you guys were already dating 4 years ago?”
“Surprised you didn’t know Tony, should have checked your security cameras more often” Bucky snickered wiggling his eyebrows as you rolled your eyes, pinching him.
“Anyway, Bucky didn’t want to tell anyone about us because he was worried Hydra would come after me if they knew. We got married 2 years ago in Louisiana-”
“WAIT, BUCKY, STEVE AND I WENT TO LOUISIANA TOGETHER, when did this happen?!”
Bucky winced, trying to stop the fit of giggles that had taken over as Sam and Steve stared at each other then back to Bucky.
“Y/n came too. I got her to stay at a hotel nearby, you guys insisted on going sightseeing so…” Sam’s eyes widened as he connected the dots, “Yeah, no wonder you were so chipper to stay back home, unbelievable”
“We got married by the lakeside the day before you guys left for New York again. Just me and Bucky” You smiled softly as you remembered the soft white dress you wore, the way Bucky looked in his suit, the soft kiss that sealed you both together.
“Wait, where’s your ring punk” Steve couldn’t place what he was feeling, his emotions running a mile a minute as he pieced together why Bucky had made so much progress over the past few years. Bucky pulled out his dog tags that were set under a few of his things on the table; a simple gold band hung around the chain.
“I moved to a house after I transferred, figured we’d need more space since our little one will be here soon. I planned on coming back a year after the baby’s born. We really wanted to tell you guys but we figured this was the safest option”
The team nodded understandingly, as you stroked Bucky’s hair lulling him to sleep. He rested against you, keeping his hand on your tummy. Steve looked away trying to mask his sniffles as a cough before turning back to you again.
“How did you guys see each other after you moved?”
“Bucky comes by when he goes for his run, sometimes he comes in the middle of the night, especially if I’m baking or weekends, I see him almost every day” You grinned, thinking about how you felt like a rebellious teenager every time Bucky snuck by to steal a kiss or snuggle with you for a while before having to return to the compound.  
“Really punk? So that’s where you would go missing? To see y/n?”
Steve cocked an eyebrow as Bucky opened one eye, nodding and smiling softly before nuzzling back to you.
“THAT’S WHY YOU DIDN’T MISS HER MUFFINS!”
Bucky snorted, his eyes remaining closed, “Yeah, you jealous Tweety bird?”
“I’m happy for you both, I haven’t seen him happier in years and it makes sense now” Steve held you, kissing your head, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this happy.  
“I can’t believe you guys managed to keep this under wraps” Tony shook his head, his mind wandering to expanding your old room to accommodate a baby room as well.
“Well Fury knows and Dr. Cho. I really only trust her so I came to her as soon as I found out, being a super solider baby and all” “Fury doesn’t count he knows everything, probably knows when Capsicle took a shit last”
“Language”
You giggled, looking down at Bucky who was snoring softly into your chest his hand still wrapped protectively around your belly. The team whispered their goodbyes, giving you gentle hugs, allowing you to have some privacy. You closed your eyes, as you began to fall asleep with the one person who would do anything to keep you safe; your home and safe place.  
Alternate ending ii
The team had made their way to the MedBay after Bucky had been moved from surgery. Steve swallowed thickly as he saw Dr. Cho, hoping his best friend would be okay.
“Can we see him now?”
“Mr. Barnes has a visitor, just family is allowed right now Mr. Rogers” She smiled sympathetically as Steve’s face dropped “In a few minutes I’ll check on him. If he’s okay, you can visit him for a while but he has to rest”
Steve silently nodded, his brows furrowed as he wondered who else would visit Bucky. As far as he knew, the team was the closest thing to family Bucky had left.
“Family? Did she just say family?” Sam looked over to an equally confused Tony as they sat down in the waiting room.
“Bucky has family?” “Not that I know of…” Steve continued to wrack his brain as the minutes passed, his anxiety growing more and more. He glared at the door hoping whoever had gone to see Bucky would leave. Half an hour passed before Dr. Cho went back to the room to check on Bucky and immediately making her way over to where the team sat. “Mr. Barnes will see you now”
The team made their way through the doors, freezing as soon as they stepped in. Bucky was snuggled against you, his eyes heavy with sleep, his hand wrapped protectively around your little baby bump, hardly registering others had entered the room. You smiled brightly at them as their shocked expressions melted into tears of happiness having not seen you for months.
“Oh my God. Y/n!?” Nat pulled you into a tight hug, followed by the rest of the team. Steve’s arms lingered around you as he kissed your head, holding onto you extra tight.
“It’s good to see you. We missed you so much” His voice cracked as he spoke, looking down at your growing tummy and the ring that sat on your left hand. “You’re…?” You grinned, nodding, brining Steve’s hand to where the baby kicked, causing his eyes to brim with tears.
“I thought you came here to see me punk” Bucky rasped, smirking at Steve’s poor job at wiping the tears that were rolling down his cheek.
“Shut up jerk. You’re married?”
Bucky nodded, kissing your cheek, rubbing your belly, looking at you with love and adoration “Meet my beautiful wife, y/n Barnes”
“Who would have thought terminator would be the first one married. Unless any of you are also hiding a secret spouse I need to know about?” Tony eyed Steve, Sam and Nat suspiciously before smiling back at you and Bucky.
“You two have SO much explaining to do”
Alternate ending iii
The team sat together around the waiting room, the air laced with anxiety and burning questions. Tony, Nat and Sam sat in the lounge chairs as Steve paced around the hall waiting for the doctor to emerge from the surgery room. A familiar voice speaking to a nurse down the hall caught the team’s attention.
“Oh my God y/n?!” Tony shot up, wide eyed as he saw you walk down the hall, towards them. You grinned as Tony pulled you into a tight hug, nearly lifting you off the floor in the process.
“Hey Tones” You smiled, immediately engulfed by another pair of strong arms before you could say anything else.
“Um, excuse me, you went missing without saying good bye, and you left me muffinless, I think I deserve a hug at least” You giggled wrapping your arms around Sam as he kissed your head “Seriously y/n, we missed you”
“I missed you to- “Hey! Me next!” Nat yanked off Sam, squeezing you, “I missed you babe”. You turned around to Steve who pulled you into a giant bear hug, his warm arms holding you securely.
“You really have no idea how much we missed you”
“-and the muffins!”
“Seriously Sam?”
Steve felt your firm tummy press against him, pulling away from you for a moment; his eyes landing on your little baby bump “Wait! Are you…?”
You grinned, nodding as your hand cradled your tummy, suddenly squished again as the team enveloped you in a giant group hug. Tony held you for a second longer, before letting you go.
“Is that why you left for a desk job?”  
You nodded, as Steve led you to the couch to sit, “Yeah, figured it’d be safer that way, I was planning on coming back after a year”
“Makes sense. Wish you told us though, y’know I would have added a new floor for you and the baby-” Tony’s eyes snapped to you widening, “Hang on, whose the father?!”
You giggled as your hand caressed your tummy feeling little flutters. “Oh my God, is that a ring on your finger?!” Your face heated up as you nodded, watching Sam bounce in his seat and Nat grab your hand to inspect the ring.
“Yup, that would be a ring on my finger”
“Y-you’re married?!”
“I am”
You laughed as the questions began to pour in all at once; Sam pulled out his phone to write down every single question he had for you so he wouldn’t forget.
“Okay, okay, first things first, what are you even doing here; did you come in for a checkup?”
Dr. Cho emerged through the doors before you had a chance to answer. “Mrs. Barnes? He’s awake now; you can go and see him”
The team looked at each other exchanging confused expressions, “Who the hell is Mrs. Bar- OH MY GOD!”
Tony and Sam’s jaws dropped as you got up from your seat, making your way to Bucky’s room. Nat smacked Steve as he sat wide eyed, flicking his own ear wondering if he was hearing things or maybe his old age was finally catching up to him.
“I- what? When?!” Tony sputtered, looking at the door and back at everyone equally confused faced. “Mrs. Barnes?!”
They sat in shock for a few moments, before getting up and knocking on the door.
“Come in”
Bucky smiled sheepishly as you kissed his temple, resting against him; his hand splayed across your tummy.
“Guess I should introduce you guys then, everyone, this is my wife y/n Barnes”
Part 2 - back story + baby barnes
I do (again) wedding time!
-
Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed! Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyes @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchy-whore​ @jamesbuckybarneswify​ @slutforsexyseabass​ @chrisdrysdale​ @littlemarvelmenfan​
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alwaysthefool · 17 days
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Is your req open? If so, then can we see Sigma's reaction to oblivious y/n getting closer to Nikolai and him getting jealous?
Idk how many months ago you must��ve sent that I’m so sorry but if you’re still around… (😭)
Warnings; a bit suggestive
Reverence (Sigma)
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Nikolai had to be doing this on purpose.
He spent the whole day with you, using the excuse of work, but instead goofing off with you, keeping a hand on you at all times, and worst of all, making sure Sigma saw it. At dinner time, when Sigma finally thought he’d get some time alone with you, he sat beside you, throwing his hand across your shoulder.
“You guys didn’t tell me we were having a company dinner!” Nikolai chimed.
You smiled politely, but Sigma slammed his fork on the table. “That’s because it was supposed to be a date.”
“A date? Then what are you doing here, Sigma? Leave me and [name] alone.” Nikolai pulled you closer, laughing as if he had just made the funniest joke in the world. That much was fine, but it broke something inside Sigma when he saw you giggle a little at that too.
“Fine.” He stood up, having had enough. “You two enjoy.”
He walked out of the restaurant, still telling the manager to put the bill on his tab, knowing you didn’t mean anything bad by it. You’d never purposely do anything to hurt him, you just didn’t understand what he was trying. And still, that did not help reduce the pain. It hurt so much that as soon as he was out of the establishment, he had to put a hand on the wall outside, taking it all in. Did he just lose you?
Sure, whatever, you’re better off with him anyway.
Nikolai was funnier, he had more personality, he had more experience, he had-
“Hey!” You broke Sigma out of his thoughts, looking up at him concerned. He only glanced at you, looking down again, half his balance resting on his hand that leaned on the wall.
“Are you in pain, Sig?” You took his hand off the wall and held it with yours instead, the other on his shoulder. He didn’t want to throw his whole weight on you, so he tried to stand up taller. Somehow, his head remained heavy and bowed, almost like in reverence to you. A prayer to you, ‘please don’t leave me’.
“Yeah, I’m hurt.” He felt guilty if it seemed he blamed you for it, but he needed your comfort.
“How?” The concern and confusion in your voice was enough to make him melt. You didn’t even realise you were the one who was tearing a hole in his being. And even if you did, he’d gladly take a bullet if you were the one shooting it. For now, he wasn’t sure what to say to you. He didn’t want to be the kind of boyfriend who’d tell you not to hang out with someone you laughed with.
“I want to be the one who makes you laugh.” He confessed, unable to say he was jealous. But his clear eyes and heart gave everything away, bringing a smile to your face.
You threw your arms around Sigma’s neck, as he instinctively circled your waist with his own. “Nikolai only makes me laugh with his jokes.” You leaned up for a kiss, and Sigma shyly closed the distance between the two of you, his hands holding you tight, and lips softly taking in yours.
He soon desperately leaned in for more, but you pulled away, melting at his puppy eyes. “But you, make me red with just one look, breathless with your presence, and senseless with your touch. No one else can do that.” You pulled him in for a kiss again, whispering. “It’s only you.”
Your sweet words were enough for Sigma. He was a fool for ever thinking you’d leave him for anyone, let alone Nikolai. Although the two of you were in public, he took you in deeper, not able to get enough of you with just kisses, his tongue meeting yours, hands grabbing your hair and hips, as if he’d never let you go again.
“Seriously, get a room.” An annoyed voice spoke from behind. Sigma opened his eyes, and glared daggers at Nikolai, only earning a chuckle out of him as he left. It looked like he’d have to find a new couple to torment.
—x—
And could that new couple be fyodor and…. Part 2 anyone?
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