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keigo-chan · 2 months

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I Don’t Know Where To Put My Hands

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Keigo comes home, just for a bit, in the middle of spying on the League of Villains. He needs you, he needs this. And you love him. What else is there to say?

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings/Tags: Pro Hero!Reader, No Gendered Pronouns for Reader, Reader Has a Vagina, Extremely Dubious Consent, Unhealthy but Loving Relationships, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Emotional Masochism, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injury from Sex, Fluff but Evil

FULL TAGS/NOTES ON AO3

Communication from Keigo had all but disappeared after the battle in Kamino. He didn’t even text anymore. He certainly didn’t call. He didn’t even send mail, or notes, or anything. Civilians spotted him, even around the very city they lived in, as the tags you had alerts on for notified you, but he didn’t make any effort to contact you.

You tried to be calm about this. He was still alive. That’s what mattered. If he wasn’t trying to talk to you, it was because he couldn’t.

But that was a scary thought, too.

You thought about asking the Commission for a short leave. It was the Holiday season, so many other heroes were beginning to stagger out their own leaves. But that only made you more hesitant to do so in turn. Your agency- Hawks’s agency- was always close to reaching ‘understaffed’ numbers. You wanted to be there to help fill in the gaps. Especially with the biggest gap right at the helm of the agency. What was important these days, as the voice in your mind that sounded a lot like Keigo reminded you, was how the public saw the heroes. The best thing they could do was bring hope- so you kept busy making public appearances, trying to just keep up with him.

When you finally got home at the end of that week, the end of your set of patrols, you were exhausted. You were distracted by your phone when you unlocked your door and went in. You tripped over the threshold of it, barely catching yourself with your wings. You looked back at your stoop for what had made you fall, and saw a red book waiting for you.

Attached was a note. “From: K”.

Your heart dropped. You lunged for the book at once, picking it up and flipping through it. Just like you suspected, there were many highlighted portions.

You and Keigo had been working side-by-side for years, and though actual partners for longer, you knew a couple of the more intimate details of what the Commission dragged Keigo through. You’d known for a long time that skills associated with espionage would be necessary. The two of you had made up your own.

You flipped through the book, barely registering what it was even about, as you hurried to shut the door and locked all the locks behind you. You fluttered about quickly, drawing the curtains and blinds while opening the book with one arm. There was nothing else written not in code. You settled in on the couch and began to decipher.

You used a cipher, always based off of a word or phrase or date only you would know. The cipher that worked would correlate to the level of danger they were in or amount of secrecy they needed. You worked your way up three levels, to the day of your anniversary.

‘Being watched by LOV.’ Reading that alone had made the ever growing anxiety worse. Is that what he was doing? Something involving the League of Villains? ‘No big danger now. Keep ear to ground. Lay low. Attack in four months. Hope to come home for New Years. Miss you. Love you. Be safe. Keigo.’

You sighed out a long breath you didn’t know you were holding, shutting the book and resting your forehead against it. He’d held this book, had written in it with care. You wished he had left anything else, though the messy handwriting on his note was nice.

All of the feathers you’d had from him had faded, gone a very dark, dull red- a sign that they had died. Keigo no longer had control over them, and could no longer hear or feel through them.

If they were going to attack in four months, did that mean that he would be away until then?

You tried to clear the thought from your head. He was on a mission. Clearly one that even he took seriously. For now, you needed to take over as the cool-headed hero that everyone wanted. For now, you needed to take care of the Agency. Keigo’s image as a hero didn’t need to suffer, even if he was away.

You could do this. You would wait for the next couple of weeks, until you might be able to see him again. Keigo wouldn’t have mentioned it if he wasn’t decently sure that he’d be able to come back.

He’d be alright on his own. He’d be alright on his own. You set the kettle on to boil and made his favorite tea. It gave you an idea.

Over the next couple of weeks, you left things out for him. Boxes outside with small notes, assurances left in code. Sweaters and smooth pebbles and old trinkets they’d collected over the years, so that wherever he laid his head to rest, it would feel a little more like home.

He took them. Sometimes it was overnight, sometimes days or a week went by without them being taken. But he always did, and he always left something in return. A shiny, pink shell. One of his feathers. One of the silver rings he always wore, too big to fit anywhere but your thumb. You took to wearing it around at once, rubbing it when you were nervous or overwhelmed, thinking of him, thinking of his hands.

New Years came limping around the corner. You sent everyone in the agency home with warm smiles and their much-desired bonuses. You went back to your own home alone, shuddering under your coat. The Christmas tree had already been put away- because it had never gone up. You and Keigo always took it out together, decorated it together.

You hadn’t spent a Christmas without Keigo before since you’d met him. Even before you were dating, when the two of you found out you had no one else to spend it with, the agreement to visit each other came almost immediately. That very first time, you’d waited to put up the tree until that very day, and you hadn’t managed to finish decorating until he’d gotten there. You were ashamed- but he was just excited. He asked you, stars in his eyes, if he could help. He confessed, words rushed and still half-flying, that he’d never gotten to before. You didn’t ask and he didn’t offer. You handed him a box of mismatched ornaments gladly.

That night, you’d sat around the tree, the sight of threadbare branches and two gifts perhaps looking pitiful to anyone else, but there were lights. Keigo had gone and gotten lights mid-way through, saying he’d been struck by inspiration, and he hadn’t come back for quite a bit since most of the stores were closed, but they were beautiful. You’d turned the rest of the lights in the house off and just basked in the warm glow of them. They reminded you of Keigo’s eyes, a bit. That was the first time you’d rested your head on his shoulder. He wrapped his wing around you.

You couldn’t help but be upset that he hadn’t even mentioned Christmas, much less apologized for missing it, even if it felt a little childish. You felt homesick more often than not. All you wanted to do these days was lie in bed, lounging around in his baggy clothes, twirling dead feathers between your fingers.

You left him a gift before Christmas. When you saw that he still hadn’t picked it up the next day, all you could do was sigh. By the time New Years came around, the gift remained by your doorstep. You began leaving less and less, just to stop crossing that threshold.

You baked cookies that night. You lit candles and dimmed the lights and listened out for sparkles and fireworks all over. You’d started hating fireworks when you started dating Keigo. He’d made a joke once about having to fly through them and it made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it. He was as flammable as a bundle of dry straw. The heater was on, but you still wore one of his old, tacky Christmas sweaters around. You popped open a bottle of Champagne and poured yourself a glass.

You had a bad feeling, but you pretended like you didn’t. You glanced at the clock. Keigo wouldn’t have given you false hope- no matter how optimistic he was. But eventually, the clock struck eleven, and you were two glasses of champagne and batches of cookies in, and there was no sign of him.

You groaned when you finally heard the clock mark the hour, resting your forehead on the cold of the kitchen table.

Why were you so miserable without him? You obviously could never know, but you were willing to bet money on the idea that Keigo was not nearly as shaken up about it when he was away. In fact, the more dangerous a task he was about to embark on, the happier he seemed to send you away. A familiar coil of bitterness rose up in you. After all this time, he didn’t trust you. He didn’t think you could hold your own, not next to him.

But maybe he’s right, You mused, munching miserably on your cookie. After all, he goes away and I spend all my time sick and moping and thinking about him. God, I really am useless.

Maybe you should get a cat. Keigo was never their biggest fan, and they didn’t do well around his wings, but you really wanted one for times like these. And if he was going to spend this much time away from now on, what did it matter?

You were idly scrubbing a dish when the clock went off at midnight. Screams erupted from every direction around you, the sound of illegal fireworks, the cheers of loved ones celebrating with one another.

Honestly, you thought you’d be more sad, and angry, and disappointed. But you weren’t. The hour passed and it was the next year and Keigo wasn’t there to celebrate- like he always was- even though he said he’d try to make it and it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as Christmas. There was no one to call, no one to text. You finished washing the dish and downed the last of your glass, before pouring yourself another.

You settled onto the couch. You weren’t ready for bed yet, not with the sounds outside. You scrolled through a million shows and movies before settling on one you’d seen a million times, like white noise. It was past one am, and you had finished up your millionth game of Sudoku when you heard someone at the door.

Fear rang through you, at first. You were alone, you were tipsy, and your hero brain whispered that nobody would hear your screams with the din of New Years around you. You jumped to your feet the best you could, setting aside your glass and phone at once, preparing to defend yourself when you heard keys turn the lock.

It was Keigo. Of course, of course, it was just Keigo.

All of the resentment, all of the bitterness, all of the anger you told yourself you’d take out on him softened at once when you caught sight of him. Not only because he looked more tired than you’d seen him in a long time- with uncharacteristic bags under his weary eyes, slumped shoulders, and wings noticeably smaller than usual- but just because…

Because it was Keigo. Because, miraculously, he looked like he needed you more than you needed him.

“You’re awake.” He sounded surprised. He didn’t look it. Maybe he was too tired to even look surprised. He locked the door behind him, but didn’t move from across the room.

”I was-” You words caught around the lie. “I was waiting for you.” But he beamed, and you were glad you hadn’t told him the truth. Oh, Keigo. Always the optimist.

“I’m home now.”

“Yeah,” you walked to him, pace increasing with every step, until you were flinging yourself into his arms. Keigo, for his part, was more than ready. He caught you easily, and no more conversation was needed. When you kissed him, his face and nose and mouth were all cold, and he held you like a dying ember. The way you fell into each other reminded you of the moment you’d managed to catch him after the battle in Kamino, behind the alley, a moment you had been unable to stop yourself from replaying and replaying and replaying.

There was no thinking to be done while you were kissing, your mouths opened immediately for each other’s. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, indulging both of you in the kiss. He turned the two of you, pressing you flat against the wall. His kisses fell against your chin and neck, and then all at once-

“Keigo!” You gasped, which was the only thing saving it from being a scream as Keigo sucked at the skin on your neck hard. You squirmed, thrashed really, in his arms, trying to push him away, but it was fruitless. “What are you- Keigo, oh my God-” Your voice was just a whimper by the end as he barely even reacted to you. “W- wait, you can’t-”

The Commission had strict rules involving appearance. Some were obvious: no alterations may be made to the uniform without going through one of their designers, heroes must appear at the scene relatively kempt (unless coming from another battle), tears or rips must be mended by next appearance. But there were other, unwritten rules, pertaining to the professionalism of the costume. No hero could be caught drinking or smoking in their uniform. No hero should be seen doing non-heroic activities in their uniform. And, of course, famously, hickeys were not allowed to be showing while they were in uniform.

Everyone claimed to have a friend of a friend who had gotten in trouble for it, to the point that it was just something heroes knew to avoid while participating in… more illicit activities. But it had happened closer than that to the two of you. In fact, Keigo had once gotten in massive trouble when the Commission caught him with a hickey that you had given him. It was (mostly) an accident, and they hadn’t suspected where it actually came from, but he was put on night patrol with no breaks for the next couple of weeks.

You were extremely apologetic, but not enough to accompany him out all of those times.

Ever since then, you were both careful about it. After all, they really didn’t need the scrutiny that the Commission was trying to protect them from in a roundabout way. Not only would Hawks’s fangirls go ballistic if they thought he was actually seeing someone, but it would invite people to speculate on who. And nothing good would come of that.

This was to say, it wouldn’t be good if either of you showed up to your job with a lovebite visible on your necks, and concealer could only last for so long in a job like yours. The two of you whined and bitched about it, but for the most part, you reserved your marking for things below the collar, even if the ‘claiming’ of it all was half the fun.

Until tonight, apparently. Keigo was still sucking and biting at your neck like a man starved. “Sorry- sorry,” It sounded genuine, he sounded almost hurt him, but he didn’t stop. “Need- Need something permanent- need it to last-”

And it did hurt. You weren’t prepared for the sharp heat of it- but it was good. It was so good, Keigo’s lips wrapped around such a sensitive part of you, making you feel a mind-numbing pain derived intimately from his own mouth, his face buried into your neck, while he was holding you close together. And he was marking you. He was marking you and everyone would know you belonged to someone and entirely irrationally, for a split second, you hoped they would know it was Keigo.

He growled and pressed open-mouthed, sloppy kisses to your neck, before licking a stripe up your throat and swirling his tongue over what must have been the forming bruise. your head was going fuzzy from the abuse of your neck. You barely recognized the usual care he treated you with, even in their most morally bankrupt moments of fornication. Instead, he bit down on another part of your neck and started the process again.

You threw your head back and gave in, moaning and bucking your hips against him. This only seemed to egg him on, as his kisses grew more frantic and messy, and a heavy sort of note joined his panting, like he was moaning with every breath.

Your neck was starting to feel wet at this point, but you didn’t care. You could feel every move he made down to your pussy, and it was leaving no room for anything to go to your brain.

Several marks later, Keigo finally seemed to remember that there were possibly other ways that he could have you- though he didn’t give you any warning of this thought at all before he pulled you away from the wall and fell to his knees. This would have been alright, hot even, if you weren’t still attached to him. You yelped as they dropped, performing a clumsy combination of your arms flailing and still clinging to Keigo as he went down.

But you didn’t collide with the floor, you were simply on his lap now, nails digging into his clothes and back. He took the second of your confusion to tear off his work jacket and reveal the compression shirt underneath. You dearly loved the eyeful of his lithe muscles you got through the tight fabric. You ran your hands over his chest and shoulders appreciatively.

”You know, you could have given me a heads up,” You meant to scold him, but it came out more as a sort of pout. But Keigo didn’t laugh like he usually would have, didn’t even smile. He sort of frowned distantly as you spoke, staring only at your lips. “Keigo?” You brushed a lock of flaxen hair behind his ear. “Are you oka-”

”No,” He shook his head, his voice thick with something you couldn’t name. He took an unsteady breath and shook his head, looking somewhere just past you. “N- no, I’m-” The glint in his eyes wasn’t right. You were contemplating it when he sprang back into action. He lunged, pinning you under him on the floor, but his arms had broken the worst of your fall. Still, you cried out in surprise, Your world suddenly in an entirely different orientation. Keigo licked and nibbled at your ear as he pulled off your- his- sweater roughly, the friction of it burning for a second. He tossed it aside carelessly before returning to his position right on top of you. His hands squeezed and groped at your chest painfully- and not in a good way.

Your head spun. What was going on? This was nothing like Keigo. Even when he was rough, it was usually only because you had asked for it, or confirmed it was what you wanted at least once. Every once in a while, you even had to egg him on. But this- this felt careless and crude, bouncing between the two extremes of him being too intense and not there with you at all.

“Ow,” You hissed, but it was really more of a whisper. You were almost afraid to snap him out of the trance, even as he bruised you in places you weren’t accustomed to. “Ow-”

”Please,” He whined. His mouth was against your chest, he had begun to work his way down. He sounded… truly pitiful. “Please, I- I need- I can’t-” He sat back up and away from you, running a hand through his hair, only for half of the strands to fall back into place right after. You finally got a good look at him, closer now than across the room. He was frantic, searching. His eyes darted around your face wildly, but he didn’t seem to find what he was looking for. “Please.” He slumped down again on top of you like his strings had been cut, all at once, landing hard onto you.

“Are you on something?” You wondered aloud. “It’s- it’s fine if you are, but you should tell me, Kei-chan-”

”No, no.” He shook his head frantically. “No, I swear, I just-” He tugged at your pants. His eyes grew pleading, beseeching. “Please-”

This wasn’t how you pictured their reunion. But he was looking at you with those desperate eyes, and you could only ever be the personyou were.

Keigo was hurting. You could help him. As always, you could do your service by helping him, by being at his side.

You didn’t speak. You just nodded. Keigo breathed out what could only be a sigh of relief and tore your pants off. You were wet, your moments of hesitation unable to strip that awaym especially not when Keigo spread your legs and dipped his fingers into the place that you had wanted him for weeks. Thankfully, he didn’t finger you. You shuddered a bit to think of what his thick, rough fingers would have felt like inside you in this state. Instead, he pressed a kiss to your knee and then tapped you gently on the ass. ”Flip over.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice.you turned and assumed your position, ass in the air and face against your arms on the floor. There was a second where it was just ou, in the dark, your face warm with your breaths and the sound filling your ears. Maybe- maybe it would be easier this way, unable to see his face.

There was no preamble before Keigo slammed in.

”Oh my GOD!” You shrieked, nails digging into the hardwood floor in front of you and leaving gouge marks in their wake. “Oh my fucking God,” He took you with a speed and strength that truly belonged on a battle field. Every other stroke or so hit your cervix, entirely bottomed you out with that thick cock of his, a Russian roulette of pain that entirely cleared your mind.

”Fuck,” He cursed. He gripped your hips brutally, but you didn’t even feel it over the flood of sensation below it. He pulled you back and forth against him like you were an to for him to use, something small and thoughtless he could move as he pleased. “Fuck, yes,” He hissed through his teeth sharply. “Holy fuck, you take it so good, look at you- taking my cock so fucking good.” He babbled.

”Please,” You choked out, eyes rolling back so faryou couldn’t see anything other than stars. “P- please,” A broken gasp wracked through your chest like a sob. In fact, you rather thought you were sobbing. Your fingers and hands jumped and convulsed, just trying to hold on, to regain any sort of footing as he fucked you into the floor. you didn’t even know what you were begging for. For him to stop? For more? For him to hold you, just hold you, so you could sit in the silence and look at the Christmas tree?

Your safeword danced on the tip of your tongue. You wished you could say that you hadn’t used it to be a good girlfriend, that you’d suffered through it all silently because it was clear he needed you, that you were kind and benevolent- but the truth was that you simply couldn’t even string enough of a thought together to control your tongue enough to say it.

”Please-” He panted, pleaded, “Baby, say my name-” His voice broke around the syllables. “I- I need to- pl- please, saymyname-”

“Kei- ei- go- oh-” Each sound was broken up by the bounce of you against his cock. You couldn’t speak properly even if you wanted to. You slurred his name, your tongue too heavy in your mouth, too confusing to move properly. “Kei- go!”

“Yes, yes, yes,” He whined, bending over your body. His chest pressed against your back. He was all over you, inside you, above you, all-encompassing. Each thrust sent your body back and forth against the floor, scraping against the skin of your face and arms. Your knees ached from holding yourself up on the hard surface. Your legs trembled, weak with the strength it took to even stay up. “So tight, so fucking tight-”

”Keigo- w- wait, please-“ You gasped out, but the words were unintelligible to even your ears, too breathy and muffled and confused, too pierced through with your moans. Instead, all Keigo heard was ‘please’. The next couple of thrusts were even harder.

Your mind and body couldn’t take it any longer, you tensed, trembled so much your limbs began to hurt, and came so hard you saw white. The scream you let out was guttural, and gave its way into sobs. Your whole body gave out, but unfortunately, Keigo’s grip didn’t relent, he hardly even noticed. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease-”. You keened pitifully. “Keigo-”

His grunts and noises had become animalistic. There were no more words or pleas from him. Instead, he moaned his own release, slamming into you with absolute abandon, finishing inside you by using his body’s weight to pin you all the way to the floor. You were squeezed between the two unrelenting surfaces, as Keigo came as deep as he could possibly go, gravity assisting him in his terrible mission.

Finally, finally, he was still.

He breathed heavily above you as you shook and trembled and just tried to do the monumental task of catching your breath or moving your limbs. Your hands shook so hard it looked like you had tremors when you tried to draw them back into yourself.

Every body part that you could think of ached in one way or another. You tested different parts of yourself, operating them like a puppet who had just gained control of their own body. It was a long while before Keigo let up, long enough that you had almost forgotten it was him on top of you. You lifted your own face from the floor. It was wet. You hadn’t even realized you were crying or drooling. Your hair stuck to your face with tears and sweat. you took a deep, shuddering breath.

Keigo pulled out. You felt his soft cock slip out of you and were astounded that the now-feeble part could have done what it just had. You remained on the floor, little will to move, no capacity to consider what he might think about it.

He laid his hand on your hip. ”Hey, do you wanna-” But you jumped. You hadn’t meant to. But it was a motion so sudden it startled him. He blinked. And it came to him. The scene, the house, his love- it all finally appeared in front of him. “Oh my God-” He breathed, expression stricken and horrified. “Oh my God, baby bird, I- oh my God-” You tried to push yourself off the ground, but your arms gave out underneath you, and it looked downright painful as youfell. Keigo pulled you up at once and flipped you over, as gently, but quickly, as he could.

Keigo hoped, prayed, that it wasn’t as bad as he suddenly remembered it all was-

When you turned, something in the back of your head warned you to school your expression into a more neutral mask, but it was too slow and quiet. But every bit of the shock and confusion you felt must have been evident on your face, because when Keigo turned you around, he shattered.

He dissolved into sobs, curling and melting onto you, into you. It only took a split second before you, too, were crying, until you were both wracked with it, holding each other. Clinging tighter than ever before.

There was nothing else to do.

*****

You woke first the next morning- and you woke in pain. The way your insides ached made you feel like maybe the phrase ‘rearrange their guts’ wasn’t as fun as it was before. You realized, when you went to the bathroom, that you had been bleeding. A wave of sickness. You put on a pad and walked carefully back to bed.

The noise of the bathroom alone had woken Keigo. He locked eyes with you as soon as you came out of the restroom. Your heart sank. You immediately tore your own away. You were really hoping he wouldn’t wake for a while. He sat up as you got into bed, back towards him. Neither of you said anything for a long moment.

You gave in. You flipped over towards him, tossing an arm around his lap, your forehead against his hip. He rubbed a hand down your back, almost on instinct. You hated the way his hand jumped away once he realized what he was doing like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

You gave a gentle demand, ”C’mere.” He obliged at once, shifting down to rest next to you. You were careful not to make eye contact, even as he stared at your face, watching your expressions like- well, like a hawk. You adjusted until you were lying on his chest, arms curled around him. He was sleep-warmed. Comfy. Smelled familiar.

It was still Keigo.

Just Keigo.

Always Keigo.

Only Keigo.

”I’m bleeding.” You said softly, shutting your eyes. You didn’t know why. You didn’t want to guilt him. You didn’t really even want him to know. But you felt like he needed to. Deserved to, even. You listened to the sharp breath he took.

”Fucking shit,” He breathed, and that was it for a moment. You pretended like you couldn’t hear him crying. He pretended like he couldn’t feel you do the same.

”Will you make me some tea?” You asked quietly, when you had both gone still and silent again. Keigo jumped up at once. He was just in his boxers, the ones he had pulled on last night when you had finally gone to bed in a daze.

”Yes. Yeah. Of course.” He nodded, looking grateful for something to do. He hurried off to the kitchen at once. You laid on in warm space he had left on the bed. You tucked yourself in and sniffed the pillow he’d been lying on deeply. It smelled like him- like the man you knew and loved. In the kitchen, pots and pans moved around, water ran, the stove clicked to life.

It wasn’t long before the smell of food filled your nose instead. It smelled like grilled fish and rice. After another couple of minutes, he walked in, holding your favorite mug.

”What kind?” You asked, pointing for him to set it down on the bedside drawer.

”Your favorite.” He didn’t even let you react before he hurried out, “ButIcanmakeyouadifferentone! I just- I thought that I- I guess I could have asked-” He winced at his own words, and you sighed.

”It’s fine, Keigo.” But your voice sounded tired, even to you, and his name rang cold. ”Thank you.” He hesitated. You buried yourself deeper under the covers. You just… didn’t want to hear it right now. Thankfully, whether he got the message or simply couldn’t decide what to say, he walked out of the room once more. After another ten minutes, you finally stood and came to the kitchen, wincing as you did so. He smiled when he caught sight of you, but the worried furrow in his eyebrows didn’t unknot.

”H- Hey, good morning. I made breakfast.” He gestured around at the spread. You eyed it over. “I- um- there’s fish and rice and miso soup and a rolled omelet- I made coffee, too, just in case- or we could- we could always order takeout or-”

”Hey.”you put your mug down on the table and walked towards him. His wings drew up, somewhere between fear and shame. He seemed to balance on a knife’s edge as you stood in front of him. You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his bare chest. “It’s okay.” You said softly, wrapping you arms around him and stroking at his back, between his wings.

Keigo nodded shakily, before finally hugging you back.

”I- I just- I didn’t feel like me when I came in last night,” He babbled against the top of your head, “And I’ve- I’ve felt really lost in the mission, all of my interactions are being watched, I could only step away last night because-” He took a breath. You felt the shudder in his body. He was tense, like he wanted to hold you tighter, but was too afraid to. “I wanted to come back and feel like me, I wanted- I-“ You hushed him. Keigo buried his face deeper into your hair. ”I’m…” Keigo started. You tensed. “I’m so-”

”Don’t.” You snapped.

You had an unspoken agreement- the two of you never apologized. You were almost proud of it, your ability to move on from mistakes and stupid things the other had said. You gave each other space any time you had an argument, and came back with level heads and open arms. This was the first real thing either of you had, they were both bound to make mistakes. You were happy you both knew that, and found something that worked for you guys, even if other people didn’t understand it.

Hearing him almost do so now made your throat tight and eyes burn.

”No, really, what happened last night-”

”Takami Keigo.” You wrenched yourself out of his grip, instead grabbing him by the arms, pinning them to his side. The cruelty in the sneer and look and touch and name shocked him like ice water. “It’s fine. I said yes. I could have used my safe word. I ask you to be rougher all the time. It-“ You cleared your throat. You removed your hands. “It is fine. I need you to drop it.”

Keigo stared, face to face with bared teeth and anger. “Okay.” His voice was just a whisper.

You stared for one last minute before letting go and turning away, back to your tea.you took a long, deep draught, before something caught your eye. He looked where your gaze fell. It was a mirror, in the hall. You touched your neck. “I forgot about those.” You hummed, looking thoughtful. Keigo couldn’t discern anything else from your expression, so he said nothing.

He turned away and grabbed a couple of dishes and began to plate everything up for the two of you. Before you sat down, he grabbed a pillow from the couch and placed it under you without a word. For this, at least, you were grateful.

You ate in silence for a while. It wasn’t exactly comfortable. He found it a little hard to look at you, now, close up. He wished he could have been pleased to see you all marked up, but instead, you just looked… bruised. Battered. The way you did after a battle didn’t go your way. There was an exhaustion in your eyes you couldn’t fake and you didn’t bother to hide.

“When are you leaving?” You asked, your voice carefully free of any inflection. He bit his cheek. Usually this question would be asked with the clear wish that it wouldn’t be for as long as possible. But today, he was unsure.

“I was-” Any strength in his voice broke. “I need to leave tonight.” He admitted. You were entirely still for a moment, but just a moment. You resumed eating, without even looking at him the whole time.

“Alright,” Was all you said, soft and small and sad. Your utensils clicked, but otherwise, it was silent.

*****

The first day of the New Year was difficult. For once, you found yourself glad that Keigo was leaving. No matter what you did, you couldn’t get rid of the silent stiffness that permeated all of your interactions. Perhaps the distance would do you good for once.

When night fell, Keigo had to leave. He stood by the door and you came to say your goodbyes. He held his arms out tentatively, and you fell in at once. He squeezed you tightly. You squeezed back.

”How long will you be gone?”

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly. ”…Probably at least another three months.“ Your heart sank. You knew that, but to hear it was another can of worms. “But I will visit before then, I promise.”

”Okay,” Your voice was hollow with unshed tears. As he made to pull away, something desperate in you woke at once, and you held on tighter. “I- I miss you so much when you’re gone.” You rushed out, like he didn’t know that already. “This mission was so sudden, I went from seeing you all the time to not at all, and I don’t know what you’re doing or how dangerous it is, and I don’t even have anyone I can talk to about this because you’re who I talk to about things, please don’t leave me.” Your pathetic plea rang in the air for much longer than was comfortable.

He spoke, “I’ve been seeing you online again.” Picturing him seeing all the embarrassing headlines and memes and photos from your recent appearances made you groan. “You have no idea how proud I am of you, or how much I miss you, too. I’ll tell you all about it the second I can.” He pulled away a bit, cupping your cheek in his large, warm hand, lifting your chin to look at him. “I don’t- I don’t want to do this again, okay?” His gaze was loving, and sincere. You nodded, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks silently. “I don’t like it either, I promise.” He kissed your forehead. “Be brave, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, but the lump in your throat and chest hadn’t gone away. He hugged you again, and you both rocked back and forth and back and forth.

”Hey,” He said seriously. “I love you.”

That was another thing you didn’t say. Or, at least, it was very rare. You really only said it when you didn’t have to actually… say it. You wrote it in notes in code or texts. Occasionally, during a very intimate moment, or if you weren’t sure you were going to see each other again.

You swallowed, wondering which one of these things was true now.

”I love you, too.” He wrapped his wings around you. Their hold was soft and strong, and you felt like you could breathe easier, even if your chest was tighter.

Finally, finally, you pulled away. ”I’ll see you soon.” He promised, and your lips met for one last kiss.

”See you soon.” You repeated throatily. You waved with a miserable little half-smile as he slipped out the door, taking his bright red wings, all the color, and your heart from your world.

When you went out the next day, you remembered Keigo’s present and groaned unhappily, having forgotten to remind him of it- but when you went to check it, you saw that he had taken it, and left something in its stead.

It was a tiny box, covered in shiny, red wrapping paper. You stepped right back inside your place and tore it open, finding a ring box inside the first. Inside was a silver band made of metal feathers widing their way into a ring. Your mouth fell open at that alone, only to realize that there was an extra slit in the box.you checked the larger box it had come in. Inside was two photos- one that must have been of the advertisement, with your ring and a thicker-banded version of it- and the other was one of Keigo.

In the photo, he was somewhere far in the sky during sunset, pink and purple and orange and lovely all around him. He was beaming, always so handsome, but glowing with the halo of the sun and his smile. His wings were a blur behind him, but in front of him, his gloveless hand was fanned out, showing off his own ring from the matching set.

You laughed through tears, sliding the ring onto your finger. It seemed he hadn’t forgotten about Christmas, after all.

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jollyfunvoid · 8 months

Text

Bucci gang headcanons

Bruno Bucciarati

-Wes Andersson fan (his comfort movie is Grandhotel Budapest)

-fave era is roaring 20s (aesthetic & music wise)

-listens to electro swing, swing, jazz and blues

-has a very strong sweet tooth. His cravings are so extreme he is able to eat whole giant chocolate on one go and not gain a single kilogram. His favorite ice cream is stracciatella and his go to dessert is tiramisu. If you wanna bribe him, use sweets

-loves Golden Girls (Sofia is his favorite character)

-hardcore Eurovision fan, always prepares for the Eurovision weeks in advance, it's like a holiday for him

-brings small camera with him everywhere he goes, gets very emotional and sentimental when taking pictures, loves to keep all the memories

-shares an old record player with Abbacchio, they collects vinyl records together

-in charge of shared Netflix and Disney+ account

-has an ornamental lower back tattoo which matches the one he has on his chest. Has a lot of tattoos all over his body in general

-is very good at sailing and has a captain's licence. As a kid he used to be obsessed with pirates, he still lowkey fantasizes about life at sea

-surprisingly a very good dancer and hella skilled belly dancer. He is also very flexible

-Caterina Caselli number 1 fan

-drinks a lot of coffee, never starts a day without a cup of cappuccino

-obsessed with candles

-as a kid he used to build wooden ship models with his dad. Now as an adult he still does it sometimes, when he is not too busy

-bought himself a sewing machine because he is really into fashion and wanted to start making his own clothes. Isn't very good at it tho, his sewing skills are poor, so he always ends up zipping everything up with his stand and then acts like that's how the "sewn" piece is supposed to look like

-has a sweet melodic laugh

-extremely flirty, he is a snarky little shit who loves to tease others

-"Oh my god look at the sky! The colors are so beautifl!" *takes a picture* "And the clouds? Wow!" *takes another picture* "Guys, come look at the sunset!" *takes 20 more pictures*

-has a very low alcohol tolerance (3 glasses in and he is under the table)

-although he seems like a very well put together person, he is very messy and tends to misplace things, especially when he creates extra storage with zippers he can't find anything. He calls it "organized chaos"

-can easily sneak up on others, he just silently spawns out of nowhere. Is it his natural ability or is Sticky Fingers involved? No one knows

-is able to talk his way out of anything, uses his charm to his advantage a lot. Also the master of puppy eyes

-suffers from PTSD because of the attack on his father, that's why he always sleeps with a knife under his pillow. Everytime he hears noises in the middle on the night he gets paranoid that someone is hiding in or sneaking into his home with the intention of harming him and his love ones. When the panic attacks hit him really hard, he irrationally makes extra safety precautions, such as blocking doors with furniture or leaving the lights on. Also has trouble sleeping in unknown places because he feels vulnerable and exposed to potential dangers, he is always in a state of high alert.

-his favorite season is winter, he enjoys Christmas the most because he loves giving presents and being with his family. He definitely plays an old Ella Fitgerald vinyl records during Christmas time

Leone Abbacchio

-tea lover, his favorite is earl grey

-doesn't like sweets, however he enjoys dried fruit (especially figs)

-Narancia is his favorite kid

-movies enthusiast, has seen sooo many movies and is the biggest critic. He has a Letterboxd account where he writes reviews. Loves watching old horror movies the most because of the gothic aesthetic, but DC movies have a very special place in his heart

-hardcore Depeche Mode, Calabrese and London After Midnight fan

-goes jogging every morning

-after getting sober he tries to look after his diet more, thanks to Bruno

-knows a lot about occult stuff

-secretly watches RuPaul's drag race with Trish

-owns a motorcycle

-named his stand after Bruno's favorite music genre to honor everything Bruno has done for him

-takes very cold and brisk showers

-taught all the boys how to drive

-thanks to Mista he became a huge Gorillaz fan

-since Moody Blues doesn't have lips, she communicates with him via symbols on her digital forehead screen

-never puts down his headphones

-has a playlist for literally any occasion. Tends to gatekeep music, you have to be very special if he shows you his playlists. Has made a playlist for each member of the Bucci gang, the only one who knows is Bruno (Leone created him multiple playlists, they even have a shared one, which they play when they are alone)

-his skin is very prone to bruising

-Moody Blues also allows him to see fragments of the past when he touches various items, he is able to sense the overall vibe and emotions of their owner and the situation they were in while using the item.

-his clothes may be dark, but I know for a fact his socks and underwear are colorful af, wild patterns all over

-his favorite season is autumn, he loves rainy and foggy weather

-the biggest prankster of the group. Everyone thinks either Narancia or Mista are always responsible for the pranks, but it is actually Leone. No one ever suspects him, because he doesn't look like the type of guy who would enjoy such childish things. And thanks to his stoic appearance he always gets away with it.

-true crime podcast listener. Him and Fugo share this passion and often discuss their favorite podcast shows. Sometimes they watch detective movies together and bet on who will solve the mystery first

Pannacotta Fugo

-reads a lot of crime novels in his free time, always comes up with his own theories and tries to solve the case before the detective (got mistaken only once and couldn't get over it for a long time). His favorite author is Sebastian Fitzek

-loves watching cartoons and animated movies, because he didn't get to enjoy them as a child

-hates horror movies because of loud jumpscares, but doesn't mind gore

-drinking green tea helps him to calm down

-gets sunburnt easily

-either never gets ill, or is sick for several weeks straight

-developed not only respiratory, but also digestive problems because of Purpe Haze and feels nauseous a lot (also throws up very often)

-uses make up to cover his facial scars

-his skin is extremely dry

-has a very light sleep, he finds it extremely difficult to share room with others during missions (he is only able to fall asleep with either Bruno or Giorno because they are not noisy sleepers like the others)

-Sheila, Murolo and him have regular sleepovers and movie marathons. They also cook dinner together

-his favorite bands are System of a Down, Slipknot, Bad Omens and Motionless in White

-can't go on rides in amusement parks because he gets sick

-him and Abbacchio visit rage rooms regularly

-always carries a book with him

-chews a lot of bubblegum to release his anger

-everytime the gang travels abroad he is the one who has to translate everything since he knows many foreign languages. He speaks english, french, russian, spanish and norwegian fluently, his pronunciation is so spot on you could barely tell he is not a native speaker. Doesn't have an accent at all. Also knows basics of sign language and cyrillic alphabet. He uses these skills often in Italy too, when he gets approached by strangers on the streets he pretends he is a confused tourist who doesn't undertand italian

-gets overstimulated easily, he is especially sensitive to noises (suffers from misophonia)

-bites ice cream and ice

-"the book was better than the movie" type of person

-picky eater, very cautious with unfamiliar food

-takes extremely hot showers. Whenever he is in the bathroom it ends up looking like a sauna in there. Also the gang has an unwritten rule that if they share a room during a mission, Fugo can use the bathroom first because he hates feeling dirty and has to use the shower immediately, otherwise he will be grumpy and won't shut up about it

-has a nasty skin picking habit, which results in him picking patches of dry skin and scabbed-over cuts and scratches (many of his injuries never fully heal because of this)

-never leaves the house without a hand sanitizer

-fidgets with his hands a lot when he is anxious

-goes to bed first and also wakes up the first

Narancia Ghirga

-vegetarian

-convinced Abbacchio to watch Brooklyn 99 with him (although Leone didn't like it at first, they now binge watch it together). They also watched Breaking Bad and What We Do In The Shadows

-has heterochromia

-thinks Orange Capri Sun is the supreme flavor and refuses to drink any other flavor

-created a shared playlist for the squad, he blasts it everytime the gang travels somewhere (it mostly consist of EDM, trap, phonk and rap)

-always beats everyone in Just Dance game sessions

-wears mismatched socks

-somewhat good at drawing, has a very unique cartoon caricature-like style

-hardcore Marvel fan (loves Guardians of the Galaxy the most), argues with Abbacchio a lot because he likes DC

-Mista, Trish and him had a podcast at some point

-his favorite candy is Kinder Surprise

-makes paper airplanes when bored

-bites people he love

-cries when animal dies in a movie

-suffers from seasonal allergy

-sleeps with tiny Creeper and Enderman Minecraft plushies, he takes them everywhere and even made them an instagram account, where he shares random pictures of them. When someone from the gang goes on a separate mission, he gives one plushie to the group or the individual, so they wouldn't feel lonely. And they also take pictures of the plusie and send them to Narancia.

-speaking of Minecraft, he manages a server where the gang plays together. He even created custom skins for everyone which look like their stands. Since he is the only one without humanoid stand, his skin is Mr. Smith, the pilot or Aerosmith. He wears a jacket with a picture of his stand in the back

-he is afraid of doctors and doesn't like hospitals. Everytime he gets sick or injured, he gets very anxious about his health. He hates dentists the most.

-loves when Fugo reads to him because he has a very smooth audio-book-like voice when he is calm

-experimented with different hair dyes couple of times, Trish and Abbacchio helped him

-die hard South Park fan, quotes the show on daily basis

-steals everyone's clothes. Can't find a shirt? Narancia is wearing it. Your hoodie is missing? It's in Narancia's closet

-has sticky notes all over his room, because if he doesn't have something written down, he will most likely forget it

-surprisingly very strong, the only person from the gang he is not able to lift up is Leone

Giorno Giovanna

-his emotions effect his powers (different flowers grow around him or from his hair when he gets excited, angry or scared), however he manages to control and hide it well

-master builder in The Sims game; doesn't care about the gameplay as such, he just enjoys building the houses and spends hours decorating them. Fugo loves to join his gaming sessions, but he on the other hand doesn't care about the houses or decorations, his goal is to always kill as many sims as possible (he loves to play around with various gruesome mods, which Giorno secretly enjoys watching)

-walking cottage core moodboard aesthetic

-goes on a picnic at least 2 times a week. In general preferst to eat ouside, terrace or garden are his favorite places

-has a very complex skincare routine

-heist movies enthusiast

-Trish got him into astrology and tarot cards

-loves theatre and poetry, even tried to write some poems himself

-writes official Passione documents on typewriter

-installed beehives in the Passione mansion gardens and makes his own honey

-collects dried flowers

-is the best liar in the group

-a bug magnet, there is always some type of insect crawling on his clothes

-him and Fugo have library & bookshop dates, they also visit museums together and exchange random facts about nature. Nerds in love, what can I say

-caramel is his favorite ice cream and dessert toping

-has a small floral tattoo on his wrist

-autistic

-loves taking bubble baths

-takes part in any bet without hesitation, no matter how absurd it is

-very bad dancer, has no rythm, but he is the best singer from the group, his voice is angelic

-very rough driver; hits the breaks hard, pumps up the gas fast and does very sharp turns. Also drives hella fast

-learned how to differentiate the steps of other people (especially the fellow teammates, since they live together). This is an old habit from his childhood.

-he walks very quietly, others barely notice when he walks into a room or when he leaves

-hates the smell of cigarettes

-others think he has a very odd music taste, because he will be singing a song from a Disney movie and within a couple of minutes you can catch him vibing to Banshee. He is forbidden to play his music in the car because it consist of all kinds of genres it makes it almost uncomfortable to listen to. His fellow gang members say his playlists are inconsistent, but they just make sense to Giorno.

-speaking of music, he is a huge fan of Hozier, Die Antwoord, Ghostemane and Little Big

-very creative, his hobbies include all kinds of crafty ativities, such as sewing, embroidering, pottery making, felting, knitting, soap making, candle making…. you name it, if he can create something, he will. And he is very good at it

-extremely fascinated by venomous animals and poisonous plants. The deadlier the better. His obsession with killer plants led to him nicknaming Fugo "his aconito", because he associates the aconite flower with his stand (it disables nerves, lowers blood pressure, and can stop the heart, plus it's purple). His other favorite flowers associated with Fugo and Purple Haze are Nightshade, Love in a mist, Spider lily and Morning glory

-zones out a lot

-sleeps with dozens of pillows, when he sleeps he is literally burried under them

-when he gets overwhelmed he lights up an incense stick and it calms him down. He is very fond of nice smells.

Guido Mista

-enjoys shitty movies, especially buddy commedies and low budget rom coms. Abbacchio hates when Mista picks films for the movie nights. Bruno on the other hand loves it

-Adam Sandler number 1 fan

-signed up for an archery course, also tried to use crossbow at some point

-can fall asleep anywhere, snores very loud

-likes the weirdest food combinations (like ice cream and pickles and stuff), the type of person who eats fries with McFlurry

-kills bugs with Nerf guns, Giorno hates it

-plays airsoft and paintball in free time

-enjoys camping, rockclimbing and rafting. Outdoor activities are his thing

-hella superstitious, made up various rituals he repeats in order to avoid bad luck

-very religious, always says a prayer before every mission

-reggaeton is his favorite type of music

-idk why but him having diabetes makes so much sence, since Pistols have to eat regularly to keep his energy and sugar lvl. stable

-mayo is his go to dressing with everything (fries, hot dog, nachos...)

-him and Narancia have 1am fast food trips

-makes silly bets with others and always challenges them to do something stupid for money, Giorno is always the first one to participate

-the best hugger

-big brother energy, everytime the other teammates screw something up and are afraid to tell Bucciarati or Abbacchio, they go to Mista for advice. He is extremely responsible and can always keep his head clear in stressful situations

-claims to hate drama but is always down to listen to some fresh tea

-loves watching cooking competitions. He is always judging the contestants harder than Gordon Ramsay ever could, Abbacchio occasionally joins him because he finds it amusing

-whenever someone tells him "I love you" he replies "Ditto", referencing one of his favorite movies (Ghost, 1990)

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #vento aureo #golden wind #jjba part 5 #bruno bucciaratti #leone abbacchio #pannacotta fugo #narancia ghirga #giorno giovanna #guido mista #bucci gang #bucci gang headcanons #jjba headcanons #bruabba #fugio

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 8 months

Note

Edelgard, Dimitri, and Mercedes with a s/o who is always tried thought the day, either half asleep or taking a nap somewhere.

Doesn't help that when it's 3am s/o is doing literally anything but sleeping.

(FE3H) Edelgard, Dimitri, and Mercedes with a perpetually tired S/O

just like me fr

Oh lovely, now there was another person who is eternally sleepy in the Black Eagles.

But, at least this time they weren't skipping out on lectures.

Edelgard at first tries not to be overbearing and just gently nudge them in the right direction of trying to get more sleep in the night.

Of course, that does not last very long.

(Edelgard) "I somehow knew you would be in the library, S/O."

(S/O) yawn "Edelgard? Oh, hey. Has the lecture already started?"

Edelgard sighs as her expression softens a little, gently putting a hand on their shoulder.

(Edelgard) "It's nearly time for bed. If you are going to rest, you can at the very least do so in your own room."

She doesn't want to sound like a nag, but she can't help but fret over S/O, at least in private.

Sometimes, she knocks on their door when she suspects they're still not asleep on the nights she can't either.

Those sleepless nights usually result in the two having a heart to heart, and being extremely tired come morning.

But Edelgard would not trade those moments with them for anything in the world.

Dimitri can't help but chuckle at seeing S/O yawn in the morning. The sight was honestly quite cute to him.

If not a little worrying. This was the fourth day in a row they looked ready to drop dead.

(Dimitri) "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were a ghost with how ghastly you look."

(S/O) "Ugh, I feel like one..."

(Dimitri) "Then perhaps you'd like something to wake you up? I could ask Mercedes to bake you something, or have Sylvain annoy you to awakening."

(S/O) "Goddess, please don't. It is way too early to be dealing with him...I might take you up on asking Mercedes, though."

He usually brings coffee or some kind of tea to help keep S/O up, or something to let them sleep late at night.

Dimitri trusts them enough to be responsible enough to know when it was time to sleep or not, but he has on occasion found them still awake at midnight.

(Dimitri) "S/O? What is that racket!?"

(S/O) "I needed to clean my room up, it's a little too messy in here."

(Dimitri) "In the dead of night?"

(S/O) "...It's not that late is it?"

(Dimitri) "Late enough that someone else other than me might come and make a noise complaint..."

(S/O) "Well, while you're here, can you lift my bed real quick? I need to grab something, and then I promise to sleep."

S/O was still full of energy, that was either a lie, or they'd sleep during lecture after trying and failing.

(Dimitri) sigh "Alright, please move aside."

Mercedes is probably the best solution for S/O's sleepy tendencies.

That, or she might accidentally make it worse.

Due to her usually calming demanour, S/O feels ten times as sleepy whenever they're together.

Mercedes doesn't particularly mind, since Annette feels the same way too.

In the morning, Mercedes has some sweets that she baked for them to help wake them up.

And if they needed to sleep? She'd happily let them rest their head on her lap.

(Mercedes) "Oh, I know! What if I tell you some of the ghost stories I know to keep you up?"

(S/O) "I-I think I'll pass on that one. The last story you told me, I couldn't keep my eyes closed for hours..."

(Mercedes) "Hm...Well, I'm glad I do such a good job of telling them at least! But I wish that didn't come at a cost of your sleep schedule."

(S/O) "I mean, it wasn't exactly great to begin with."

(Mercedes) "And it's too late to bake any sweets...Oh, I could make you something spicy!"

(S/O) "...Y-You mean you're going to cook?"

(Mercedes) "I'm still trying to learn from Ashe, but I think I could make something great for the both of us!"

Suddenly, S/O became far more alert.

(S/O) "I-I think I'm full for right now, Mercedes! And I'm feeling really awake talking to you too!"

Mercedes looked slightly disappointed before S/O sighed internally.

(S/O) The things I do for love... "...But I wouldn't mind trying at least little!"

Her expression brightened at their response.

(Mercedes) "Really? Okay, let's head to the mess hall!"

(S/O) Goddess be with me...

#fire emblem three houses x reader #fire emblem three houses headcanons #fire emblem three houses imagines #edelgard x reader #dimitri x reader #mercedes x reader #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #mercedes von martritz

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jisungsdaydreamer · 1 year

Text

Love Playlist #3: Make It Right (Lee Know)

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

"It hurts to love you."

Pairing: Lee Know x Fem!reader Genre: college au, angst, exes to lovers Warnings: swearing, messy break-up, mc has a fear of the dark, mild haunted house/Halloween descriptions Word Count: 18.3k

*Written for @skzwritingcafe's July/August event: Summertime Confessions ☀️

Special thanks to @baekhyyun & @simpforyongbokk for beta-reading!! 💘

“I love you.”

You roll your eyes and shove Minho away, trying to suppress the giggles that threaten to spill out. “Stop that. We need to concentrate, or we’ll never find an apartment.”

“I’m definitely concentrating.” Minho grins mischievously. “On you.”

Laughing at his antics, you shake your head, shutting your computer for a brief intermission to tend to Minho’s insatiable appetite for your attention. Your boyfriend never fails to make you smile, no matter what.

“I love you too, you menace.”

Minho wakes up with a start. He groggily glances over at the clock hanging on the wall in front of him. Nearly 3 a.m. Slinging his legs over the side of the couch, Minho just sits in that position for a good twenty minutes, marinating in the pitiful mixture of his sweat and tears.

The night before, he’d attempted to drown away his sorrows at some bar he stumbled upon while aimlessly wandering the city streets. It hadn’t worked, obviously, because his wallet wasn’t bottomless, and the pain was too great. But in true character, Minho had tried anyway, until his savior found him slumped over the counter and led him back to a safe place to sober up.

“Stay here as long as you need to,” Chan had said, tucking Minho’s drowsy form into a bundle of blankets on the couch, like he was a little kid.

Minho had tried to resist, mumbling complaints towards his friend’s retreating back, but fell into a troubled slumber before Chan even reached his own bedroom. Now he’s wide awake and unwilling to be so, praying he can just fall back asleep and forget about everything that had transpired in the previous twenty-four hours. But even sleep can’t save him from the memories of what you both once were: happy.

It’s not like he didn’t notice the rift growing between you two in the past few weeks. You didn’t have as much time for each other anymore, reducing your interactions to quick dinners and text messages. But you both have been together for nearly three years, and Minho had assumed that it was just the stress of senior year taking a toll on you both, nothing more. You both had been browsing apartments together just one month ago, finally planning to take the next big step in your relationship. He loves you more than anything in the world, and he so believed that you felt the same about him.

So when you sat him down yesterday at your favorite café, Morningstar Coffee House, and told him that you had doubts about your future together, he was shocked. Too fearful of what you were going to say next, Minho decided to take an abrupt exit out of the conversation, rushing out of the door by using class as an excuse. And now, he will be forced to confront a brutal reality, wishing he could have just gotten this over with yesterday.

A small chime alerts Minho to a new text message, and before he even reaches over to the coffee table to pick up his phone, he knows it’s you.

bobaluvrr: we need to finish talking catservant98: do we really need to? bobaluvrr: morningstar at 8. i have class, pls don’t be late.

With an exasperated groan, Minho stands up, tossing his phone onto the couch. At the very least, he could use the coffee.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little extreme?” Soyeon scrapes the bottom of the pint of ice cream in her hands, frowning when her spoon doesn’t recover as much as she’d like.

“Maybe,” Sunoo answers for you from where he’s sprawled out on the floor, lying on his stomach while scrolling through his cellphone. Soyeon chucks a pillow at him, making him yelp and lift his hands up in defeat.

“This is for the best, Soyeon,” you reply firmly, stabbing your spoon into your own pint of rocky road and digging out a generous chunk. As you lick the spoon, you note that you barely notice the creamy goodness that always succeeds in cheering you up. Not today.

Sunoo sits up and sets his phone aside. “Literally last month, you said you wanted to marry Minho as soon as you graduated.”

You swallow harshly, remembering the exact moment Sunoo is referencing. It’s true that you wanted to marry your boyfriend— no, you still want to marry him, even now. But you meant what you said; breaking up with Minho is necessary to prevent any more heartache. You’ve been feeling this indescribable longing seeping into your heart for weeks now, silently pressing through all of your warning bells. It was a whisper in the wind beneath your lofty wings, telling you that one day, Minho was going to leave you. The last few days had been the final straw, forcing you to grasp your courage and do what had to be done.

“I know.” You hold your tears back. “But the situation has obviously changed.”

Soyeon takes your hand in her own, softly rubbing your palm with her thumb to comfort you, while Sunoo just rolls his eyes. “I still blame that bitch Minju. It’s her fault you’re feeling like this, if anyone’s.”

At the mention of Minju, your expression hardens. After all, you don’t exactly have warm regards for a backstabber like her, especially when she had pretended to be your friend just to get close to Minho. When you found out about her ulterior motive, it made the betrayal hurt ten times worse.

You had befriended Minju nearing the end of the previous year, after she sat next to you at lunch when you were alone in the dining hall. All along your short-lived friendship, you had noticed that she would only ask you questions about Minho or your relationship with him, but you brushed it off as an attempt to just get along with your boyfriend. You had no idea that she wanted to do more than that.

At the beginning of the next semester, Minho mentioned that he had one class with Minju. Ever the optimist, you were pleasantly surprised, thinking that Minju could become friends with Minho as well. After all, it always took Minho forever to really bond with new people, and this would make everything easier. But the little things you kept overlooking built upon each other, forming a whole dam of distrust.

First, there were all of the times you hung out with both Minju and Minho. While Minho always engaged in conversation with the both of you, if not more with you, Minju would actively ignore you just to talk to Minho. Once, you three visited an arcade together, and there was a game that involved picking teams. Minju immediately declared that she would partner up with Minho, so you had no option but to team with a stranger. But maybe she just wanted to get to know him.

And then you ran into Heeseung, one of Minju’s old classmates. Heeseung had no malicious intentions; he used to have photography class with Minju before she switched out, and needed Minju’s number to ask her for the pen he had lent her. It looked like Minju had changed her course schedule to share a class with Minho. But maybe that was just a coincidence.

The final piece that made you put together Minju’s puzzle was when Minho was dropping you after a date one night. He had kissed you goodbye, and you went inside, wondering if you should invite Minju over to watch some movies. You called Minju and asked her if she wanted to come over, but she claimed that she was very sick and couldn’t even leave her house, down with a high fever in her bed. Feeling sorry for your friend, you decided to whip up a quick batch of soup for Minju and walk over to her loft. However, you saw two people standing right outside the building. Upon closer look, you realized it was Minju and Minho, talking about something you couldn’t hear. But the sight itself was enough— Minju looked perfectly healthy and fresh. You could give the benefit of doubt to your boyfriend, but Minju had obviously lied to you. You ran away before either of them spotted you.

You shake your head, knowing in your heart that even someone like Minju couldn’t really end one of the most important relationships in your life. “It’s not just her. I’m tired of watching every other couple on campus, wishing Minho and I were like that. Everyone calls us perfect, but really, we’re not. I’m tired of pretending. I’m tired of feeling like I’m the only one who cares. I’m just tired of everything, Sunoo.”

And it’s true. You’ve had enough of wondering about whether you love him too much, if you were being naive about everything. You have always been a very bubbly, social person, wearing your heart on your sleeve. You know that Minho is more of an introvert, and that it’s hard for him to express himself to others. However, you believed that with time, he would open up, at least to you. You found it as easy to confide your fears within Minho as it was to laugh when he tickled you. But communicating with Minho about his own feelings remained a difficulty. He still seems like such a mystery to you, and even if he wasn’t entertaining Minju’s whole plot, you feel like he isn’t as interested in you as you are in him. You hadn’t even bothered telling Minho the truth about Minju, because in the end, you doubt Minju would have troubled you so much if your relationship really was so unbreakable.

Sunoo’s face softens, as he gets up to envelope you in one of his hugs. “I’m sorry if I came off too strong. I just want the best for you.”

Soyeon joins your little huddle, wrapping her arms around the both of you. “You are our best friend, after all. We can’t have our favorite girl being sad.”

A tiny flicker of hope ignites in your stomach. Whatever happens, you know you’ll have Soyeon and Sunoo by your side. You tell yourself over and over again that you don’t need anyone else but them, until you start to believe it.

It hurts Minho’s heart to see that you look more beautiful than ever as you step into Morningstar, even with your downturned lips and the reddened sheen of your sleepless eyes. He busies himself with the menu as you approach the table he’s sitting at, as if he wasn’t just watching you a moment earlier.

“Thank you for seeing me.” Your words feel oddly formal, especially taking into account your usual greeting for Minho was an excited hug and an avalanche of kisses.

Minho shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant and not as scared as he really is. “Yeah, of course.”

You scoot your chair closer to the table, clearing your throat. “Did you sleep okay last night?”

Unable to help himself, Minho rolls his eyes. “How do you think I slept, Y/N?”

You immediately flush, realizing how obvious the answer must be. “I was just—”

“Checking on me,” Minho interrupts you, sounding more wounded than angry. “Right after you tell me that you think maybe we shouldn’t move-in together and that you aren’t feeling the same about us.”

You reach across the table to take Minho’s hands in yours. He can’t bring himself to wrench them free from your hold. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

“You did.”

“That wasn’t my intention. I just…” You trail off, gazing out the window. The campus is alive with the buzz of students waking up and going on about their days. It’s a gorgeous day for October, with bright sunshine and a cloudless sky— Minho hates it.

He looks away, not wanting to showcase how truly vulnerable he feels right now. “Why? Why this all of a sudden? Did I do something wrong?”

You start. “No!”

“Are you still upset about yesterday? I know everything is stressful right now, but I promise—”

You take a deep breath. “I can no longer trust you. I don't know if I’ll always be the only one. But it’s not you, it’s me.”

“Of course you’re my only one, what are you talking about?” Minho shakes his head, the desperation creeping in. “No. I promise I’ll try. I’ll be better. Whatever it is, we’ll get through this together.”

You slam your palms down on the table, making it shake. It shocks both you and Minho into a moment of charged silence. “We’ll only grow to hate each other at this rate. I need to end things with you now.”

“Y/N, please. I- I don’t want to break-up.”

You flash Minho a broken smile. “I don’t want it either. But I need to do this, for both our sakes.”

You stand up from your chair, and Minho finally breaks. Minho, who didn’t cry even when he fell into a ravine while hiking and broke his arm. Minho, who didn’t cry even when he was cut from the line-up for his dream internship in New York City. Minho, who never cries, sits in front of you now, the tears streaming down his cheeks and dripping onto his sweatshirt.

“Don’t go, please.” He makes one last attempt at getting you to stay, grabbing onto the arm of your jacket.

You gently shake him free, taking your purse. You’re crying now too. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, Min.”

Minho lets his arm fall limply to his side as he hopelessly watches you leave as quickly as you came. He always hated saying goodbye after every time you went out, but the thought of being able to see you the next day helped a little bit. Now, there wasn’t even that.

“One… two… three.”

Minho grunts in effort, sweat slowly dripping down his neck at the arduous pace of each repetition.

“Keep going, Minho. You’re almost there,” Changbin says, leaning over Minho and supporting him on the bench press.

Minho barely hears him, flexing his biceps up and down, exhausted, yet determined to finish a set. He’s done nothing at all for the past few days, strangled with the inevitable grief of being broken up with. Minho sullenly welcomed trudging back and forth to classes. He went to bed early and slept in for as long as possible, and barely ate anything during the meals Chan forced him to have.

However, Chan finally became fed up with Minho’s mopiness, employing Changbin to drag him out to the gym and make him work out his feelings. And so, as he struggles under the backbreaking weight of the barbell, he yearns to feel a sense of accomplishment about something— anything.

“Ten! You’re done.” Changbin gently places a hand on Minho’s arm, willing him to stop, but Minho keeps going without toning down his pace.

Minho feels the excruciating ache burning in his muscles, the slow agony of pain rippling through him. Is this how you feel? Is this how much it hurts to love him? If so, he wants to live it over and over again, atoning for the reason you left him. He blames himself for letting you go, of course, but mostly for making you feel like you had to leave in the first place. He should have been a better man for you.

“Minho, stop!” Changbin lifts up the weight in his own hands, racking it and staring down accusingly at his charge. “Are you crazy? You could have hurt yourself.”

“You lift more than that, and you’re fine. Give me that.” Minho reaches for the barbell once more, but Changbin places it on an even higher hook, forcing Minho to get off the bench.

“I’ve been doing this for years. You started after your girlfriend dumped you, four days ago.”

Minho rolls his eyes, picking up his towel and dabbing at his dampened skin. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“You were already thinking about her anyway.” Changbin pats Minho’s shoulder, grabbing his bottle of green juice and walking over to the rowing machine to start his own workout.

Without further protest, Minho retreats to the locker rooms, wondering if he’s being that obvious. Minho gazes into the clouded mirror, inspecting himself for any signs of sadness, but all he receives is an eyeful of his general look, a guarded expression that reserves smiles only for those who deserve it. Weird. Maybe Changbin is just telepathic.

Minho shoves his belongings into his gym bag and heads out of the gym, back to nowhere else but Chan’s apartment, his temporary home until he finds a better place to stay. After all, he thought you both would be moving in together, but plans change.

As Minho makes his way down the sidewalk that leads to the university off-campus housing complex, someone throws a soccer ball into his path. Great.

“Hey, can you pass that over here?”

Clenching his jaw in annoyance, Minho kicks at the ball as hard as he can, not caring about where it lands. He ignores the person’s confused shouts and keeps walking until he reaches his destination, not acknowledging any of the strangers he passed by. What does it matter, anyway?

“Gym go well?” Chan looks up from the cutting board, setting down his knife and wiping his hands on a dishrag.

Minho sighs, neatly fixing his bag next to his current post, the sofa. “It was fine. I’ll go clean up and be right back.”

“Hurry! Dinner’s almost ready,” Chan calls as Minho heads inside the bathroom, locking the door and cranking on the shower.

Minho feels his body relax as he steps under the steady stream of water, but his mind remains tense. He’d gone to the gym with Changbin today because he thought he’d be able to get some peace of mind and forget about everything, but evidently, that hadn’t worked. All he can think about is you, you, you. He’ll deny it to his friends for as long as he can, but he isn’t sure how long he can keep lying to himself.

As he finishes, Minho steps out of the steamy bathroom and into the bedroom, drying off and quickly changing into his clothes. He walks into the dining area, where Chan has set up two bowls and is ladling pasta into each of them. When he was younger, Minho’s mother used to tell them that a good meal could ease a troubled heart. For her sake and Chan’s, he decides to eat well today, just for living.

Enveloped in a comfortable silence, Minho and Chan dig in, enjoying the spicy, cheesy penne that serves as an instant comfort food.

“Thanks, Chan,” Minho says, looking up from his bowl.

Chan swallows his bite and pauses, placing down his fork. “For what?”

Minho shrugs awkwardly, trying to find the right words. By now, he knows he’s no good at speaking his heart. “For being there for me. For feeding me. Everything, I guess.”

“And for making Changbin haul your ass to the gym.” Chan grins at Minho, nothing but warmth in his kind eyes. “What are friends for, brother?”

Even though he feels kind of crappy, Minho smiles. “Yeah, man.”

Chan reaches over and smacks Minho’s back, laughing the sentiment off. But deep inside, Minho knows that Chan understands him. Whatever happens, his brother will be by his side. He tells that to himself over and over again, through dinner and the TV show that Chan turns on, until he starts to believe it.

The next morning, Minho wakes up after finally getting a good night’s sleep. The much needed rest spurs him on to message you, something he’s been putting off for a while now.

catservant98: did you wake up? catservant98: how are you doing? catservant98: ??

You don’t reply to any of his texts. Minho knows that you’re not much of a morning person, but you would never miss class, so you have to be up. Every Thursday and Friday, both of you have Writing Seminar together, a course that is mandatory for every senior student at the university you both attend. When he first received his schedule, he had been elated that he shared a class with his girlfriend. Well now you are his ex-girlfriend, and he doesn’t know that being in the same room and unable to speak with you is a great option.

Nevertheless, Minho tucks his phone into his pocket, opening the door to the lecture hall. The moment he enters, his eyes find yours. You’re sitting in your favorite spot in the middle of the fifth row, but the seat next to you that Minho usually takes is already occupied by some other girl who’s busy reading a book. You didn’t bother saving him a seat, for the very first time.

You tear your eyes away from Minho’s piercing gaze, looking at the grassy lawn beyond the window behind you, leaving Minho to find a new seat. He sets his backpack down in the very back row, where no one else is, and sits alone, a sad new reality setting in. Thankfully, the professor enters and starts talking about some upcoming project, leaving Minho ample leeway to observe you.

Your head is tilted down and you're focused on the open notebook in front of you. Although he can’t see your hand properly, he knows it’s moving as you sketch a little doodle onto the paper. It’s a habit that he always found enormously endearing, and as you tuck your hair behind your ear, Minho feels another pang in his chest. He will never be able to brush back your hair for you, ever again.

The moment class is over, Minho quits pretending he’s actually paying attention and hurries over to you before you can leave. You’re midway through stuffing your books bag in your bag when you notice Minho hovering over you. With a resigned sigh, you look up at him expectantly.

“I- I just wanted to check on you,” Minho says quietly, looking down at his hands like he’s a kid again, guilty of stealing a candy instead of impinging on your time. “And see how you’re doing.”

“I’ve been better.” You look away and stand up, gesturing towards the door. “I should go. Soyeon’s probably waiting.”

“Okay then.” Minho steps aside, letting you pass. You both had a lot of mutual friends; surely every interaction between you both will not be this awkward, right?

Before you leave, however, you turn and look at him. “Let’s try to be civil and move on, okay? We’ll still be seeing each other a lot, so.”

Minho just stares at you, for a moment, before remembering himself. “Yeah, okay. Let’s try.”

You curtly nod and walk out the door. Minho isn’t so sure that moving on is what he wants. Of course he wants to get along with you, because having you in his life and not being romantically involved is better than not being involved with you at all. But he wishes the world— time, you, and even himself— would understand that moving on meant this loss in his life. Shaking his head, Minho heads out of the classroom and towards a hopefully better day.

“Are you sure this isn’t a bad idea?” You worriedly scan the increasing mass of partygoers. Usually, you love a good party; spending time with friends and making new ones is one of your favorite things to do. Tonight, however, you can’t help the bad feeling building inside of you.

Sunoo loops your arm through yours, leading the way for you through the swanky flat, searching for a place to sit. “No, it isn’t. You deserve to have some fun.”

“What if I see Minho?” You ask him, but you already know the answer. Of course Minho is coming to Jihyo’s birthday party; unfortunately, both of you were in the same large friend group, an aspect of your relationship that you used to cherish. Now, not so much.

He looks over at you, a challenge in his eyes. “And so what if you do? You told him you wanted to be civil. So be civil.”

“Right.”

You both find a place by the food tables, where boxes of pizza have already been opened to entice guests and bottles of beer chill in the cooler. After congratulating Jihyo and helping yourself to a few slices, you sit down on the couch next to Sunoo, trying to enjoy your dinner. After boba, pizza is your most favorite food on the whole planet, but even that can’t seem to soothe your nerves. You wish Soyeon were here too, but she’s stuck studying for an exam.

Noticing your restlessness, Sunoo whistles to a few people mingling nearby. “Hey, who wants to play Truth or Dare!”

Although outdated, Truth or Dare is a certified party hit for stressed college students like you all, especially if there’s alcohol involved. You’re just thankful for the distraction. Everyone quickly huddles around, buzzing in anticipation of either a comedy show or secrets being revealed.

“I’ll go first.” Chan says, stepping forward. If he’s here, so must be Minho. “Truth.”

Sunoo rubs his hands together in thought before piping up. “What’s your beef with your Student Council co-president?”

Chan immediately tenses, his cheeks turning red. “Shit. I’ll drink on that.”

Everyone whoops with laughter and cheers as Chan downs his beer, setting the cup down with a sour expression on his face due to the bitterness of the drink. He must really hate his co-president. The game continues, before you’re the only person playing who hasn’t gone yet. Unfortunately, your questioner is Mark Lee, a junior that’s notorious for his nosiness. You brace yourself for whatever invasive question he’ll come up with, but you aren’t as quite prepared as you think.

“Why did you and Y/N break up?”

“Huh?” You follow Mark’s gaze to see him looking at Minho, who joined the game without you realizing. The question was meant for him, not you.

Minho says nothing, giving Mark the opportunity to keep talking. “I mean, weren’t you guys the golden couple of campus or something?”

Everyone quiets down, zeroing in on you and Minho for all of the wrong reasons. Minho’s eyes dart over to where you sit, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You feel your skin prickle and your body heat up, the stress clouding your senses once more.

“This is stupid. Game’s over,” Minho declares while getting up, and everyone disperses, not willing to argue with him.

You stare down at your lap as Sunoo places an arm over your shoulders, pulling you close to him. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea Mark would ask that. What an asshole.”

“I’m fine.” You stand up, brushing off your skirt. “I’m going to go get a drink.”

“I’ll come with you,” Sunoo offers.

You shake your head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll come back.”

After getting some water, you wind through the impromptu dance floor that has now taken over the living space, everyone jamming to the raging music that thumps through the loud bass speakers that Jihyo had installed into her flat. You dodge a couple grinding up against each other and a pair of best friends swinging to the beat. Before you head back to Sunoo, you’re about to find temporary reprieve out on the balcony, but like a cruel universal joke, you see exactly what you fear most.

Minho leans against the railing, the evening breeze ruffling the chestnut hair that frames his handsome face. And next to him stands Minju, twirling her hair around her fingers while listening to what Minho is murmuring to her. Yours and Minju’s eyes meet, and she gives you the faintest hint of a satisfied smirk. Your heart drops and your feet want to give out right then and there, but you would rather die than fall apart in front of both of them. You turn on your heel and blindly march to wherever will rid you of the sight of the person you love the most speaking to the person you hate the most.

That destination turns out to be the kitchen, as you march in and huff out loud as your body hits the kitchen island. There’s no one else there except for one other person with his upper body hidden by the refrigerator, obviously raiding it. At the sound of someone else entering, he shuts the fridge door and looks over at you. Taking in his faded pink hair and beat-up converse sneakers, you vaguely recognize him from somewhere.

“I was just looking for some carrot juice, that’s all.” The guy shoots you a sheepish smile. “I don’t do booze past 9 p.m.”

“Carrot juice? Don’t tell me you’re a fitness freak.”

He raises his hands in faux surrender. “Guilty. But outside of the gym, I’m Kang Taehyun. Or Terry, if we’re acquainted, and hopefully you and I will be by the end of the night. So call me Terry.”

You’re intrigued by this carrot-loving stranger. “I’m—”

“Y/N, I know. We have Writing Seminar together.” Terry smiles as the recognition hits you.

You slap your palm against your forehead, wondering how you could have missed him. “I’m so sorry. I guess I was always too distracted in that class.”

He waves your apology off with a twist of his wrist. “No worries. Besides, you’re a lot more memorable than me.”

You feel your cheeks heat up. “Thank you.”

In the brief silence that follows, you gaze up at the pattern of the tiling on the countertops, toying with the hem of your skirt. Once again, your thoughts flit over to Minho, wondering if he’s still talking to Minju. Terry notices you spacing out and speaks up. “Hey, are you okay?”

You look up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Suddenly, everything feels like too much, and you’re overwhelmed with your own emotions. You feel yourself tear up, and you’re immediately mortified for breaking down in front of someone you just met.

Unfazed, Terry crosses over to you in three quick strides and gently touches your arm, concerned. “Hey, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

You swipe at your eyes, trying to collect yourself. “No, it’s not you. I broke up with my boyfriend recently. And it’s been… bad. God, this is embarrassing.”

Terry dips his head in understanding. “I noticed you weren’t sitting next to him as usual in class earlier today. Minho— that's him, right?”

You let out a mirthless chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Well…” Terry trails off, and you fear you’ve ruined the mood with your depressive recollection, but he smiles at you. “I’ll tell you something embarrassing about me. I have a fear of mint chocolate chip ice cream.”

A giggle escapes your mouth at the absurdity of his confession. “What?”

Terry nods solemnly. “Yes. Technically, I have a fear of visiting the dentist, but mint choco is close enough to the taste of toothpaste to give me the chills.”

You grin at Terry, the down atmosphere slowly fading away. “What do you like, then?”

“Water slides. Pleasure reading. And caramel popcorn with extra caramel.” Terry flexes his bicep. “Even a fitness freak needs his sugar fix.”

You roll your eyes in good humor. “You’re really something, aren’t you, Kang Taehyun?”

“I’m hoping that’s a compliment.” Terry runs his hand through his bubblegum hair, carelessly mussing it up. You find the messiness of his bangs absolutely adorable.

“It is.” You tap your nails against your cup, trying to think of something to say next. Generally, you have no difficulty in keeping a conversation going, but Terry seems to be content with that role in this one.

“Are you an Apple or Android kind of person?” Terry inquires.

You take a sip of your water, raising your eyebrow at him. “Where did that come from?”

“I was trying to think of a good way to ask you for your number.” Terry shrugs, that playful smile that you’ve now become familiar with coming back.

You return it. “You just did.”

Both of you exchange cell phones and type in each other’s contact information. When finished, Terry slides your phone back into your palm, and you don’t miss the light touch of his fingers against your own.

“I have to go find my friend now, Terry. But I’m glad I met you. Don’t forget to spam me with more weird facts about yourself.”

Terry laughs. “I won’t. Like I said, Y/N, you’re not easily forgettable.”

You hide your smile and leave the kitchen, lost in your own world, even as you run straight into Sunoo, who asks you what took you so long. When you finally get back to the warmth of your own room after the party, you sit down to get some homework done before bed. You notice your favorite keychain, a little cat charm, hanging off your ID card lanyard that’s strewn across your desk. Minho gifted it to you last year, stating that you needed something to remind you of him when he wasn’t there. After a moment’s hesitation, you unclip the charm from the lanyard and tuck it away inside your desk. You don’t need the reminder right now.

terrypotter: hey, good morning!! this is terry from yday btw bobaluvrr: hii! bobaluvrr: omg ur user <3 i love harry potter too! terrypotter: this friendship was meant to be.

You throw off your covers, hopping out of bed. Last night was proof that things could start out horrible and end well. You meant what you said to Terry; you’re happy you were able to meet someone like him. Even though you both only hung out for a few minutes, talking to him felt relaxing and uncomplicated, less of a puzzle and more like a game, unlike how it felt with Minho. You were tired of always guessing Minho’s thoughts, and so Terry’s habit of speaking his mind feels incredibly refreshing.

terrypotter: here’s a thought- coffee @ morningstar? terrypotter: they make a mean breakfast bagel too, if ur up for it

You frown down at your phone, the lighthearted feeling fading into uncertainty. You are glad that Terry named this new acquaintance as a friendship, but still, he’s a boy— and a good looking one at that, too. You aren’t sure if getting coffee entails something potentially romantic down the lane, and if it does, it feels wrong, especially so soon after Minho. You definitely haven’t moved on, yet. After all, you once believed that Minho would be the man you would marry one day, and a tiny part of you still dreams of what could be.

bobaluvrr: i can’t :( promised my roommates breakfast terrypotter: aw that’s too bad

After a moment of thought, however, you text him again.

bobaluvrr: but i’ll save you a seat in class today! terrypotter: see u then :)

Strangely buzzed, you make your bed and get ready for the day, trying not to think of the fact that Minho is also in Writing Seminar with you and Terry. You don’t want him to give him the wrong idea, but then again, you both weren’t together anymore, so what does it matter?

After showering and getting dressed, you stand in the kitchen so that the excuse you gave Terry won’t be a lie, scrambling a few eggs in the frying pan that Minho bought you last year. As the designated chef in your relationship, Minho used to cook for you all the time, whenever you came over to the apartment he shared with Chan and Jisung. Whenever he visited you, however, he complained that there weren’t enough proper cooking supplies for him to create a “proper culinary experience” for you, so he insisted on buying you some.

When you nearly fainted, looking at the receipts for everything he bought you, he promised that you could make it up to him by bringing everything with you when you moved in with him. That’s how he very smoothly asked you to move in with him, and you accepted by attacking him with kisses. You both planned to find an apartment as soon as possible, since Jisung wanted to move-in with his best friend, and Chan was looking for his own place. The reminiscing smile on your face fades away when you remember that everyone’s plans came to fruition except for yours and Minho’s.

You don’t know if it’s the universe looping Minho into your life again and again, or if your treacherous heart just misses him so much that you can’t help but subconsciously cling to every last remnant you have of him. The sensible side of you knows it’s the latter scenario.

“I smell food.” Sunoo ambles out of his room, looking like a lovable yet scruffy teddy bear.

He tries to sneak a piece of fried egg from the pan, but you quickly push his hands away, wrinkling your nose. “Go brush your teeth first. I’m going to throw up.”

Sunoo rolls his eyes sleepily, but obeys, before Soyeon also comes out of her bedroom. Unlike Sunoo, however, she’s all dressed and ready for business, clad in her uniform of baggy jeans and a badass leather jacket that you adore. Soyeon pulls out three glasses and starts juicing a couple oranges to complete your meal, as you start plating the food.

“Thank you, my angel,” Soyeon blows you a kiss as you set the eggs and some slices of buttered toast on the table. You wink back at her as you both take your seats and Sunoo comes out to join you, still wearing his pajamas.

“And you, lazy ass? Wake up earlier so you can help out more. You never do anything.” Soyeon smacks Sunoo’s arm, hard, eliciting a cry out of him.

“Hey! I take on the emotional support role in this house,” Sunoo replies, aggressively biting into his toast.

“This is an apartment.”

Your two roommates trade their usual insults back and forth as you tune them out, picking at your own plate. Maybe it had been a bad idea, asking Terry to sit next to you. And it wasn’t even about how you could already envision your ex-boyfriend’s beautiful eyes full of betrayal, but more of how you’re coming off to Terry. What if he got the wrong idea, that you both were heading into something more than a friendship?

When you’ve escaped Sunoo and Soyeon’s bickering, you plug in your earbuds and walk to the lecture hall. The sound of your morning mix fills your ears as you enter your own world. While you cherish the people in your life more than anything, you treasure the times when you can slow down and just appreciate the fact that you’re alive and healthy. Gratitude isn’t something you feel a lot, especially taking into account recent happenings, but maybe you’ll start now. A new friend is always something to be thankful for—

You hear someone calling out and immediately pull out your headphones to see Terry next to you.

“Hey, Y/N!” Terry falls into a synchronized step with you. “Did I interrupt any deep contemplation? The look on your face was pretty intense.”

You shake your head, accepting the coffee that Terry hands to you. “Thank you. And no, you didn’t. It’s nice to see you again, Terry.”

Terry smiles, sipping from his own cup. “Likewise. Ready for class?”

You’re about to naturally give him an affirmative answer, before you halt, remembering yet another moment with Minho.

“Who the hell is he?” Minho glowers threateningly at the guy next to you, pulling the sleeves of his button-down up to his elbows. The man quickly rushes out of the bar and into the rain, without even bothering to open the umbrella in his hands.

You sigh loudly while Minho sits down on the stool the man was just perched on. “Was that necessary, Min? Poor guy just wanted to ask me about the book I’m reading.”

“That’s the pretense that all guys put up when they’re trying to hit on a girl.” Minho slides his arm around your shoulders, and despite your mild annoyance, you melt into his touch. He smells like a mix of cologne, rain, and fresh cotton sheets.

You look up at Minho through your eyelashes. “Is that what you did when you asked me out?”

Minho smiles lovingly at you. “I didn’t have to. You were down bad for me already.”

You shove him away in mock offense. “You were the down bad one! I remember your whole cheesy speech.”

“I don’t recall anything like that.” The smirk on Minho’s face fades in favor of a deep blush.

Laughing, you press a kiss to your boyfriend’s lips, and he quickly reciprocates. The truth is, you both were impossibly down bad for each other. And to be even more honest, you enjoyed it when Minho got like this; the feeling of being Lee Minho’s girl will never not excite you, especially when he was the one keen on enforcing it.

You sigh to yourself. While that was a pleasant memory without the context, you aren’t so sure it’ll be cute this time, when Minho reacts to you and Terry.

Terry holds the door open to the lecture hall, letting you go in first before shutting the door behind him. Most of the class is already assembled there, setting up their desks before the professor starts. You see that Minho’s also sitting, perched in the back again, but he seems busy rifling through his bag, looking for something. As you take your own seat, you don’t know if you feel relief at Minho not saying anything, or disappointment that he didn’t notice you at all.

Throughout the duration of class, you and Terry giggle together over the professor’s infamous random rants, but your mind keeps flitting over to Minho. You can feel his gaze on you and Terry, but when you turn, you see him immersed in his notes like he wasn’t looking at you in the first place, and you end up feeling stupid. Fearful of what Minho— or really, you— might do, as soon as class ends, you grab Terry’s wrist and practically pull him out of the door, ready to get out of there. Terry doesn’t question it, understanding the rationale for your actions. You appreciate that about him.

To make it up to Terry, you take him out to lunch, choosing a restaurant downtown. You love the views of the riverfront there, as well as their renowned spicy food. You block out the memory of all of the times you and Minho walked over here, hand in hand. You are entitled to lunch at your favorite restaurant, you remind yourself. Once you’re seated, the waiter comes over to your table.

“Chef’s special soup, please. Level-three spice,” you tell the waiter.

The waiter writes down your orders and walks away, leaving Terry to look at you with an amused expression. “Level-three? The food here is already spicy.”

You cross your arms. “I have a very high spice tolerance.”

“Alright.”

In no time at all, your waiter is back, setting down the food in front of you both. Terry immediately digs in, shoveling liberal spoonfuls of his mild fried rice into his mouth, leaving you to stare at your soup. You can practically smell the red pepper in the steam rising out of the bowl.

“Here’s my last warning before destruction,” Terry says, squeezing a lemon onto his rice. “Try some rice.”

You sit up, trying to look self-assured. “Nonsense. I can do this.”

Of course, you wish you hadn’t bragged so much, barely a few seconds after your first sip of the spicy broth. Your eyes start to tear up involuntarily, and Terry fills a glass of water from the iced pitcher and hands it over to you. You accept it, clumsily tipping the cool water into your mouth, as Terry gives you a knowing smile.

“Aren’t you overdoing it?”

The spoon in your hands nearly falls onto the floor in your shock at Terry’s words. “What did you just say?”

Terry gives you an odd look. “Um, I said, ‘aren’t you overdoing it?’”

You take a deep breath, the tears now flowing down your cheeks. But you know that they’re not completely due to the soup. “Wow.”

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Terry hands you a napkin, worry written on his face. He signals for the waiter to refill the water pitcher.

You smile ruefully. “Yeah, I will be.”

“I can handle it, Minho.” You give him a glare, placing the napkin on your lap and scooting closer to the table. It’s your first date with Minho, and you want to impress him so bad.

Minho nudges your leg with his own, and you try not to look flustered. “It’s okay if you want to order something else.”

You stubbornly dig your spoon into the bowl, gathering a large helping of broth and noodles onto it. “You like the soup here. So I want to eat it too.”

He just laughs, watching intently as the clear signs of regret manifest on your face. “Told you so.”

"What are you talking about?” You narrow your eyes, unwilling to admit defeat, even though you really, really want to. You drink the soup in careful spoonfuls, pretending it’s too hot, but you struggle to speak even in between tiny sips. “This… is.. so… delicious.”

Minho is now hysterical, losing his mind laughing at the look on your face when you bite straight into a whole jalapeno. “Aren’t you overdoing it?”

“Minho, you’re so mean!” You can’t bear it any longer, the tears gushing down your cheeks while you also laugh in both pain and genuine happiness at being here with Minho, at making him laugh.

“Alright, alright.” Minho quickly goes and gets a large glass of chilled apple juice from the bar, handing it to you.

When you’re finally calmed down, you wipe your mouth with your napkin and set the spoon down, metaphorically waving a white flag. You skip straight to dessert, opting to soothe your taste buds with cold ice cream, all while watching Minho in awe as he easily finishes his own bowl of soup. After paying for dinner, Minho takes you to a secluded section of the rocky beach bordering the river that runs straight through the city. You both walk in a comfortable silence, still at that point where your hands slightly touch as you walk, unsure of just holding each other like you so want them to.

You look over at Minho, suddenly self-conscious. At this point, you see no point in faking anything; he’s seen you literally sob over a bowl of soup. “About the soup… I promise I’m not a braggy show-off. Honestly, I just wanted to impress you. Guess I did the opposite, though.”

“What are you talking about?” Minho shakes his head, all laughter from before gone. “I’ve never met someone who ate a bowl of soup here just because I like it. Not even Chan would try it, and he’s my best friend.”

You blush, illuminated by the combination of the moonlight and the glittering city surrounding. “Thank you.”

Minho stops walking, turning around to face you. “I know I told you this when I asked you to go out with me, but I suck at using my words, so I’m sorry.”

You copy his movement so you’re looking him directly in the eye. “I understand you, words or not.”

Minho looks down at the rocky ground, secretly fighting his own insecurities. “I’m trying, but I… I admit I’m not great at this.”

You try not to show how utterly charmed you are by his bashfulness. “To be honest, neither am I. You’re actually the first person I’ve ever gone out with. Nobody’s really been into me before.”

“Seriously?” Minho looks shocked.

You now wonder if divulging that information in him was wise. Definitely not. “Yeah.”

Minho kicks a pebble into the river, watching it sink into the water. “Idiots.”

You blink. “Sorry?”

He scoffs, looking back at you. “I don’t know what kind of idiots you were hanging around before. How could no one be into you?”

You shrug, embarrassed. Your heart feels heavy, thinking of the things people used to say to you, thinking they were being funny but not realizing how much mere words were hurting you. “I’m kind of undateable, I guess. People tend to gravitate towards Soyeon. They say I’m more of the comedic relief. I don’t blame them, though. She’s perfect.”

Minho gives you an unreadable expression. “You have no idea.”

“Of what?”

He crosses that miniscule space between you both, answering you in a different way than you expect. His lips are full and sweet, and he tastes like your coffee ice cream that he stole a few bites from. The surprise you harbor quickly melts away when you shut your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he circles his around your waist. If it took this long to find the right person, then so be it. And you don’t know if you can say that this— your first kiss ever— is like the movies; it feels even better.

“I may not be good with words, but I can say this: you are perfect.”

“You look kind of stupid,” Hyunjin says, cackling at Minho’s struggle to look over the top of the box in his hands while coordinating his movements.

Minho gives Hyunjin a sharp look in response. “And you look ready to go into the air fryer.”

Hyunjin immediately tosses his phone aside and scurries over to where Minho is, taking the box out of his hands and transporting it into Minho’s designated bedroom with ease, looking over his shoulder fearfully as he goes. Minho smiles to himself, satisfied.

He follows Hyunjin into the room, finding the latter boy dramatically smoothing out the bedsheets and straightening the pillows. Hyunjin side-eyes Minho’s entrance, earning him a smack on the backside and a great reason to get out of the room, leaving Minho in peace.

Minho quickly unpacks, neatly folding his clothes and stacking them in the closet, before organizing the rest of his belongings around the room. When he finishes, he falls back onto his new bed, staring up at the ceiling fan and observing it whir. Out of everything that’s happened, he knows he should be thankful; although Hyunjin is the designated comedian of their friend group— along with Jisung, of course— he values his privacy incredibly. So when Hyunjin offered to rent out a room in his apartment to Minho, he couldn’t believe his luck. Then again, he wishes he wasn’t in this position to begin with.

Earlier today, Chan insisted on going out to catch the football game that their university hosted. Minho had agreed, with nothing better to do— besides, he noticed that Chan was also having a rough start to his day, after being locked in the campus library all night with his co-president that he always conflicted with. Chan had stayed quiet for the entire time, staring out the window on the ride to the home game, but at least he had a happy ending. By the end of the game, things had changed for Chan, and for the better: he’d amended things with his co-president, and of everything that could have happened, they even emerged from the stadium as a couple. For Minho, however, things had been quite different.

Namely, there’s a new replacement for Minho. He saw you walk into class with Kang Taehyun yesterday, and he’d been so anxious to not let you see his reaction that he immediately busied himself with his backpack. The entire time, however, he was watching you both whisper to each other during class. He darkly observed Taehyun scribble something onto the corner of your notebook, and it had made you laugh. That was what Minho used to do all the time. By the end of class, Minho considered confronting you right then and there, without caring about anyone else, but you ran out of class with Taehyun before he could even move.

And to make things even worse, he saw you and Taehyun together at the game. Minho had to resist the urge to march down to your section and slap the flirtatious smile off of Taehyun’s face. But more than anything, he wanted to ask you if it was true. Did you really already start to move on with a new man? Is Minho really that replaceable to you?

“Hey, what are you up to?” Hyunjin cautiously sticks his head into the room, snapping Minho out of his reverie.

“Nothing much. What’s up?”

Hyunjin steps into the room, his silky shirt and pressed trousers a stark contrast to Minho’s soft blue t-shirt and gym shorts. “Wanna go to the convenience store with me? I ran out of snacks.”

“You and your snacks,” Minho teases, chasing after Hyunjin when he sticks his tongue in retaliation.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin successfully drags Minho into the convenience store, disappearing into the junk food aisles to get his fix and leaving Minho to wander around the store. Following the twisting row of frozen foodstuffs, Minho turns and crashes straight into you.

“Minho?” Your eyes widen.

Minho clears your throat, trying not to gaze at you like you’re a returned long-lost love. You are indeed lost to him, but he had class with you merely the day before. He needs to get a grip on himself. “You dropped this.”

He kneels down, picking up the tub of ice cream, and hands it to you after inspecting the flavor label. “Strawberry? You hate strawberry.”

You take it back hastily. “Yeah. You always loved it, though.”

That doesn’t satisfy Minho’s rampant irritation. “You wouldn’t even touch strawberry ice cream with a ten-foot pole before. What changed?”

“I just wanted to try something new,” you say, with what Minho observes as guilt.

Before Minho can respond, the person he wants to see the least rounds the corner and interrupts you both.

“I promise, the strawberry ice cream here is amazing and— oh.” Taehyun walks up to where you are, standing slightly between you and Minho, before he looks down at you, ignoring Minho. “Am I interrupting something? I can go away.”

You shake your head, flaring the rage in Minho. “It’s fine. You can stay.”

“So you’ll eat strawberry ice cream with him, but not me.” Minho rolls his eyes, the humiliation inside him swelling like a balloon.

“Hey man, it’s nothing like that. I know she doesn’t like strawberry ice cream that much, but I practically threatened her to try it. J'adore strawberries,” Taehyun says in a joking tone, but Minho doesn’t miss the protective glint in his eye.

Minho has never been a violent person, but he balls his fists. The nerve. “Who the fuck even are you? You don’t know anything about—”

“What is your problem, Minho?” You cut in angrily. “If you’re mad at me, then be mad at me. Don’t take your frustrations out on Terry.”

What you said is perfectly sensible, Minho knows that. He doesn’t have anything against Taehyun at all; he doesn’t even know the guy. But all logic is thrown out of the window when it comes to you.

“Terry?” Minho scoffs at the nickname. “You know what, I am mad at you. Because seriously? Kang Taehyun? He isn’t even your type.”

Before Taehyun can say anything else, you respond to Minho’s jab, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “Right, because you were so perfect for me.”

The words hit him like a sledgehammer, and Minho starts in surprise— you’ve never talked to him like that before, ever. And neither has he. The regret is evident on your face as you shake your head, frustrated, like that came out wrong.

“I got the snacks!” Hyunjin announces suddenly, waltzing into the aisle, before he notices you standing there with Taehyun. “What’s going on here?”

You and Taehyun stay quiet, adding onto Minho’s misery. He wants you to say something, anything. He doesn’t even want an apology; he knows he absolutely deserved that insult. Still, Minho can’t help that horrible feeling rising inside of him.

“Let’s just go.” Minho turns on his heel and walks out of the store, before waiting to finish the conversation, Hyunjin following closely behind. He doesn’t bother looking back.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything to Minho, falling silent in the rapidly approaching night. At times like this, Minho prefers to be left alone. But he isn’t, really. Not with the truth leaning over his shoulder, like an angelic superego. He tries not to think of it, however, or the fact that his heart is falling apart so violently in his chest. Although you and Minho are not together anymore, you’ve both now fulfilled a milestone: hurt each other beyond repair.

The convenience store encounter with Minho left you feeling guiltier than ever, even more than when you actually broke up with him. You should have been more understanding towards Minho; after suddenly ending things, you appear out with Terry. Even though you don’t see Terry like that, you are well aware of how it can look to Minho. After all, you’d react similarly if you found out that Minho and Minju are dating. But you hadn’t, because you know that Minho would never do that to you.

You sigh, shutting the door to your room and collapsing onto your bed. After the whole incident, the air between you and Terry had been pretty awkward. While you still don’t know much about Terry, including his intentions, the topic of a romance had never been broached until Minho did it for you. He’d walked you back to your apartment, before wishing you a goodnight.

Your phone sounds with a text, and you pick it up, curling into your pillow. It’s Terry.

terrypotter: just checking up on you terrypotter: how are you doing? bobaluvrr: better, thanks for asking terrypotter: glad to hear terrypotter: and i also want to say that i’m sorry for any role i might have played in what happened today bobaluvrr: you’re good, terry. it wasn’t about you. i’m sorry for bringing you in

There is truth to this. No matter how much it feels like third parties have an avenue in furthering the split between you and Minho, the problem has always been internal. It’s truly between you both, hence, you’re not a couple anymore.

bobaluvrr: let’s change the subject? terrypotter: ofc terrypotter: wanna play would you rather?

You laugh in spite of yourself. It feels good to laugh, to distract yourself, but Minho stays like a stubborn mirage in your mind. Nevertheless—

bobaluvrr: game on. terrypotter: beaches or mountains? bobaluvrr: beaches terrypotter: sweet or salty? bobaluvrr: are u kidding? my username? boba?? terrypotter: LOL sweet then bobaluvrr: yes. terrypotter: spring or autumn? bobaluvrr: spring, duh terrypotter: and lastly, dogs or cats? bobaluvrr: DOGS terrypotter: u are 100% correct terrypotter: all of our answers are the exact same LMFAO

You think back to your first date with Minho. Before the whole soup fiasco, the atmosphere had been so awkward while waiting for the soup to arrive. This was months of tension and pining between you both, and now that the apex had arrived, neither of you were sure of what to say. Without thinking, Minho broke the silence by randomly asking you if you liked dogs or cats better. You were automatically enchanted by the bashful look on his face. From there on, for every single question he asked you, both of you had the exact opposite answers. For the longest time, your differences had felt charming, before they weren’t.

Terry, on the other hand, shares so many similarities with you, beyond the strawberry ice cream betrayal. Both of you are outgoing, have a similar sense of humor, and like to be unabashedly yourselves. If a romance did ever blossom between you and Terry, if your friendship lasts your current heartbreak, you could be happy with him, maybe. You would never be insecure, worrying about what’s going on in his mind, because he would talk to you directly. You appreciate that so much about him. But whenever you look into his eyes, or whenever your hand accidentally brushes his, you don’t feel that electricity that had always coursed through you when you were with Minho. You’ve been searching for it everywhere since, but that spark just isn’t there; Taehyun’s just not Minho. Your heart calls out to Minho, no matter how much you wish it wouldn’t, and you can’t deny it any longer.

If there’s one thing that Minho has learned in the duration of his college years, it’s that work has no tolerance for those special ailments of the heart. His professors don’t give a crap about the fact that his girlfriend dumped him, or that his girlfriend has now apparently moved on with some pink-haired stud. No matter how much he wants to slam his laptop screen down and fall asleep to the rhythm of his shattered heart, he knows he can’t. His term paper will not write itself, and it matters, especially since he’ll be graduating this year.

“What will you do when we graduate?” You set down your iPad, flexing your fingers.

“A job at a good company. And then one day, my own business.” That familiar, dreamy look mists Minho’s eyes.

You smile at him. “My handsome CEO.”

Minho tapped your nose with his finger, following it with a soft kiss there. “You are so cute.”

“I know.” You peek down at his notebook that’s full of graphs and lengthy strings of numbers. “This looks complicated.”

“Welcome to the life of a business and economics double major,” Minho laughs. “But you’re literally a pre-med student. I’m not going to complain when you have to memorize human anatomy and random proteins.”

“Don’t remind me.” You dramatically shudder, giggling at Minho. “But I don’t care, as long as one day, you’re CEO Lee, and I’m Dr. Lee.”

Your words shock both you and Minho, invoking a moment of charged silence. You both have never talked about getting married before. But before you can backtrack, a slow smile spreads across Minho’s face. “Dr. Lee… has a ring to it, don’t you think?”

You turn a bright red, but lean into Minho, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “Definitely.”

Minho clears his throat and shakes yet another memory of you away, trying to concentrate on the email open in front of him. Just minutes ago, he’d received notice that he’d been chosen for a position at Google, following graduation. Fucking Google. Every business major would kill for a job at Google. And not only that, but his employer noted in the message that they usually don’t even extend offers this early in the year, but made an exception for him because they wanted him so much.

For a moment, he forgot all about the angst of the previous day, giddily jumping off his bed in a rare display of emotion, even if nobody else was around. And then he reached for his phone, opening up your contact and preparing to type in a text to you; for months, you knew Minho was anxious about his application to Google. But then he remembers himself; he’s now someone in your past.

Minho swallows roughly, staring at the blank space where his response accepting the offer should be. A moment later, he decides he’ll respond to the email later. But he doesn’t even have any time to chide himself before he notices someone standing in front of him.

“Minju?”

She looks down at him, either oblivious to his confusion or choosing to ignore it. “Hey. Am I interrupting something?”

Minho nods, waiting for Minju to sit down and get settled into her chair, trying not to let his bewilderment show.

At Jihyo’s party, he had needed some air after that stupid game of Truth or Dare, and even worse, your reaction to the question asked of him. Minho had escaped to the balcony, hoping for a moment alone, when Minju approached him. When she launched into a conversation with him about school, Minho realized that you probably never told Minju about the break-up. So he excused himself as politely as he could, explaining that you and him both broke up. He never really considered Minju as his own friend, and did not expect Minju to pursue a relationship with him any further.

“I’ll get straight to the point, Minho.” Minju exhales, looking him directly in the eye. “I like you.”

Minho sits up immediately, shocked. “What did you just say?”

Minju purses her lips. “I like you, and I always have. Go out with me.”

Minho shakes his head in disbelief, the confusion fading into anger. “You’re Y/N’s friend. How could you do this to her? How can you even look at yourself?”

“You’re not together anymore, it doesn’t matter,” Minju says, her voice wavering.

He scoffs, packing up his belongings and shoving them carelessly into his bag. “Don’t talk to me again.”

Minju grabs the sleeve of Minho’s jacket as he turns to leave, desperation in her eyes. “Be with me instead. I’ll make you forget her.”

Minho shakes her free, giving her a look of both pity and disgust. “I still love her, and I always will.”

And with that, Minho leaves without looking back, walking slowly and deliberately in thought. Was this what you meant when you told him that you weren’t sure if you were the only one? Was Minju the reason for the love of his life leaving him? A strange mix of both fury and hope washes over Minho as he exits the library and breaks into a run, barely eight out of his eight-thousand word essay written.

After you broke up with Minho, you forgot one very crucial detail: you didn’t unlink him from your Google calendar. One of the few things you both share in common is your organization, and when you were together, you both loved to plan things together and very ceremoniously add them to your shared online calendar. It became a game, trying to guess where the other was at random times, judging by their schedule. More often than not, the calendar proved to be a very useful tool in pinpointing each other’s locations. It’s why the brief surprise of seeing Minho standing outside your apartment door in the middle of the day on a weekday fades away quickly. You don’t have any classes scheduled today.

“Y/N,” he pants, leaning against the doorframe.

“Minho. What are you doing here?” You cross your arms, resisting the urge to rush forward and hug him in all of his puffer coat glory. You used to make fun of him for that coat, all the time.

“I needed to see you. Minju told me,” Minho lowers his eyes, as if he’s nervous. “I need you to know that there was nothing going on with her. You have always been my only one. I promise. No one else. I miss you.”

Your heart wrenches in desire and nostalgia at the sincerity of his eyes. Of course you knew that he never cheated on you; this is Minho. But that’s not the reason why you have to remind yourself, once more, that you aren’t right for each other. Not in the long run. “I miss you too. And I know you didn’t cheat on me.”

Minho’s eyes fill with what you recognize as a mix of despair and tears, because after all, you’ve felt it in you too, before. “Then why? Why end it?”

“I feel like you don’t love me as much as I love you.”

The wheels turning inside of Minho’s mind and searching for possible reasons, immediately crash to a stop. “What?”

You shrug, drawing back your hands to tuck them into your lap, a habit that Minho has observed whenever you are nervous. “Remember when we were at that picnic with all of your friends? And Jisung and his girlfriend were also there? We were playing a question game.”

Minho nods slowly, still confused. “I do.”

“Felix had asked all the guys to think of why they love their girlfriends.” You look down at your hands, embarrassed. “Changbin had a whole list of reasons. But when it was your turn to speak, you had no answer.”

The recollection comes back to Minho like a tsunami. He hadn’t really ever thought much of that day; he always had trouble talking about personal things in front of other people, and he thought you already knew why he loved you. He didn’t know his inability to share something like that could hurt you so much, especially when he can write a whole book of reasons for why he loves you. Your smile. Your endless generosity. Your never ending patience for Minho’s antics. The way you always see the best in people, and how you light up the whole room when you walk in.

“Baby,” Minho starts, before realizing that he doesn’t have the right to call you that anymore. Reluctantly, he continues, using your name instead. “Y/N, I have trouble talking in front of other people. I love you so much, and if you know that, it’s all that really matters. A stupid game doesn’t change that.”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “But see, Minho, I don’t know. I don’t know how you’re feeling half the time. Felix’s question was just the icing on the cake. I’m exhausted from wondering. Wondering if you love me. Wondering if I really know you. Just wondering all the time. I shouldn’t feel that way.”

I’ll try harder to be more open. I’ll work on myself. I just— please believe me.”

“I do believe that you’ll try, Min. It’s who you are. But I can’t force you to be someone you’re not, and you can’t force me to want different things. We’ll only end up hurting each other more.” Your eyes fill with tears. “It hurts to love you.”

Minho flinches at your words, and he sees the sorrow in your eyes, but you say nothing to soothe the burn. Nevertheless, he keeps trying, as if he didn’t notice the determination written in your gaze as well. “I know I was senseless. But please— I’m begging you. Don’t do this. Don’t leave, not again.”

You look away from him, a single tear sliding down your cheek, as Minho tries to hold back his own. The whole scene feels disturbingly like a few days ago, when you broke up with him in Morningstar. He had hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

“I tried to understand you. I did. But don’t you think that being senseless about everything that was going on also means that you were that indifferent towards me?” You scrub at your face to keep from crying even more.

Minho cringes, hearing the truth in your words. Once upon a time, he cherished the silence you both could share comfortably, working independently in the happy company of each other. Now the quiet hangs in the air like smog, a heavy uneasiness that he never imagined around you. “I really thought I could change. I swear.”

You nod, a brisk movement that doesn’t match the tears glistening on your face. “You should go now. Please.”

And you turn your head, as if you can’t bear to watch him any longer. Minho turns, his head hanging down like he’s a sinner. A small, ugly voice in Minho whispers that he truly is one, for hurting you and letting you go. It implores him to fall at your feet and stay, insisting, breaking at you until you crumble into his arms, taking him back. But the part of him that carries the resolve is stronger by a thread, the one that fuels his despondent retreat from your heart.

Later, holed away in the place he would now have to call his home, Minho is left alone in the bed that he’d once believed to belong to you as much as it did to him. The nights cuddled together and the mornings after, when you woke up to each other in a halo of sunlight, all fade away into the prickling solitude that now constitutes his new reality. There is nothing left for him to do now, except looking out at the sky through his tiny bedroom window, wondering if you were both gazing at the same moon in the separate worlds you both now are in. He’d left you one last message before promising himself that he’d never text you again, and thankfully, you never responded. He didn’t think you would.

catservant98: I’ll always love you.

“The festival will end by the time we get there.” Jeongin lets out an exaggerated sigh, making a show of checking the watch on his wrist.

“Shut up. I need to lock this place up properly or my parents will kill me,” Seungmin mutters grumpily, as he carefully turns the key in the lock to Morningstar, taking his time. “It’s not my fault that I’m the owner’s son.”

Jeongin, donned in a Harley Quinn outfit, bounces on his toes in uncontained anticipation. “Hurry up!”

Seungmin tugs at the lock for good measure, before turning and swatting at Jeongin, who yelps and jumps out of the way. His detective hat, which he wore as a part of his Sherlock Holmes costume, falls off, and Jeongin grabs it. Usually, Minho would have laughed at the way Seungmin has started to chase Jeongin around, but he just glumly stares down at his sneakers, having no energy to join in.

“You okay?” Chan notices Minho’s downcast gaze, slinging his arm around his shoulders. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

Minho shrugs with one shoulder, out of options. “I’m fine. I have nothing else to do anyway.”

Today is Halloween, your favorite holiday of the entire year. It seems especially cruel to him, to have to confront this day without you by his side. It was never much of his scene, and he’d always been reluctant to dress up, but one look from your pleading eyes and he’d fold, decking himself in a cheesy costume and feeding you all the candy you desired. The night would always end in you both binging horror movies together because you were too scared to watch alone. The memory of Minho getting distracted, just watching you hide behind your hands the entire time, used to bring a fond smile to his face. Today, it makes him want to smash something into bits.

“Let me know if you want to leave the festival early, though. Changbin can drive you home later.” Chan juts his chin out at Jeongin and Seungmin, who are now smacking at each other, while Changbin responsibly tries to pull them apart. “I have to make sure those two idiots don’t get in trouble.”

“Thanks. But you don’t have to worry about me.” Minho gives Chan a half-hearted smile. Chan looks hesitant, like he wants to keep talking with him, but he nods, focusing on the moonlit path in front of them.

The roar of the annual Halloween festival that the university throws resonates throughout campus, drawing stressed students ready to throw aside their homework and party. But Minho is in anything but a celebratory mood; the last few weeks have been absolute agony. Ever since things fell apart. He just wants to go home and curl up into a ball under his covers, ready for this stupid night to be over. He didn’t even bother with a costume, choosing to stuff himself into his hoodie and make himself seem as small as possible. But he’s too tired to tell anyone, so he opts to stay quiet and gloomy on his own.

The gravel of the walkway crunches under their little group’s shoes, barely heard over the deafening sound of “Thriller” blasting on the DJ’s stereo. The entire main lawn of campus has been converted into a party space, crammed with different tents full of attractions, games, and souvenirs for students to indulge themselves in. There’s even a converted frat house that’s now a haunted house, as well as tables of snacks and lightsticks for people to wave around. Jeongin, Seungmin, and Changbin immediately zero in on the haunted house, running off to get tickets for it, leaving Minho and Chan alone. Two boys swaying together at the edge of the dance floor catch Minho’s eyes. He looks closer and notices that they both are dressed in an obvious couples costume, and it makes him think of you again— last year, he was Chucky and you were Tiffany Valentine, and you both won “Best Look” together, at the festival’s costume contest. Minho feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh my god, she’s stunning.” Chan’s eyes are wide, and Minho follows his gaze to a very pretty girl dressed in a white gown that seemed to float above her knees, two trailing pieces of fabric sticking out daintily from the back of her dress. An angel.

She approaches him with a shy smile on her face, as she not-so-subtly checks out Chan’s own dracula costume. “You look good.”

“I— you’re pretty,” Chan stutters, and they both blush.

Seriously?

“Thanks, Chris.”

Chan smiles lovingly at her. “You don’t have to call me Chris, you know. My friends call me Chan.”

“Chan,” the girl tests with a beam, before quirking her brow at him. “So I’m just a friend now? Not your girlfriend?”

“You drive me crazy, you know that?”

And then they both start kissing right then and there, which doesn’t seem to faze anyone else around them, considering the fact that they are surrounded by other couples. Minho, however, has to look away, his stomach turning. Is this how everyone else felt when he used to kiss you, whenever and wherever he wanted?

“Hey guys, I’m going to go find a place to sit,” Minho calls out to Chan, who barely notices in the midst of his make-out session. “You know what? Never mind.”

Cringing to himself, Minho makes his way over to the food tables, dodging at least five witches, seven ghouls, and six zombies on his way. He collapses onto the bench of an empty table with a groan, letting his head rest on the table before lifting it up like he’s been stung; the thump of the DJ’s bass seems to vibrate through the wooden tabletop, worsening his already horrible headache. What was he thinking, coming here?

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

Minho looks up, ready to lash out at the intruder, before he notices it’s Hyunjin. He is so out of it that he hadn’t even recognized his voice. “I thought you were staying home and painting tonight?”

“Thought about it, but I kept getting distracted by all of the noise outside, and thought I’d take a snack break.” Hyunjin plops down on the seat across from him, setting a plate loaded with brownies, potato chips, and cookies cut into pumpkin shapes. He’s dressed in plaid pajama pants and a baggy sweatshirt to fight the October chill, the only one besides Minho who hasn’t dressed up. “Want some?”

Minho shakes his head, watching Hyunjin dig in. “Can I ask you a question?”

Hyunjin nods, his cheeks stuffed with food. “Sure.”

“Don’t you ever get lonely?” Minho fiddles with the strings of his hoodie, feeling his face heat up. He was never one for sentiments like this, but even though he and Hyunjin have more of a seemingly lighthearted relationship, they’re more alike than they think in how deeply they care about each other. “I mean, you’ve never even had a serious relationship before, but you’re like the most hopeless romantic I’ve ever met. How does that even work?”

Hyunjin looks surprised, at first, but quickly smooths it away in understanding. “I do get lonely sometimes. But I just occupy myself with the things I love. Painting, reading. Just because I’m a hopeless romantic doesn’t mean I can’t be realistic. And I have been in a serious relationship before, remember?”

Minho frowns. “Oh. Right. What happened?”

He notices Hyunjin’s eyes flicker with something— grief, maybe. But the emotion is quickly replaced with indifference. Hyunjin shrugs. “Let’s just say it didn’t work out. I love a good romance novel, but is it real life? No. I don’t do relationships. Not anymore.”

Minho stays quiet, unknowing of what to say. He never thought of himself as a huge relationship person either, but then again, that was before he met you. You changed his perspective on a lot of things, and most of the time, he thought it was for the better. Now, he feels empty, alone. He wants to match costumes with someone, and go bobbing for apples together. And he wants that someone to be you, only you.

Hyunjin must have noticed Minho’s melancholic contemplation, because he gives him a sympathetic look. “Is this about Y/N?”

Minho’s chest tightens at the mention of your name. “I don’t know, honestly. I just want to go home.”

“Same. I just came for the free food.” Hyunjin chews on a brownie, before swallowing. “Let’s go after I finish eating.”

Minho hums in response, pulling his hood over his head, as the rest of their group comes to join the table. Chan and his girlfriend, unsurprisingly, are discussing plans about some upcoming event for the Student Council. Jeongin and Seungmin, on the other hand, are immersed in a gleeful recollection about the haunted house with Changbin, who is dressed up as Woody from Toy Story. Everyone seems to have a role except him.

“That was actually wild,” Jeongin says. “If Jisung was with us, he would have fainted when he saw the chainsaw guy!”

Seungmin shudders, while Changbin glances around their table. “Hey, where is Jisung, anyway? And Felix?”

Chan breaks away from his own conversation as his girlfriend pauses to eat her slice of cake. “He’s handing out candy to kids at home. Meanwhile, Felix is Trick-or-Treating.”

Jeongin snickers. “Trick-or-Treating? What is he, ten?”

Seungmin grins evilly at Changbin. “At least he doesn’t have the height of a ten year old.”

Changbin rolls his eyes, but chooses to ignore Seungmin and Jeongin’s high-five at his expense, instead turning to Hyunjin. “Can I have a cookie? There are no more left.”

Hyunjin gives him a judgemental glare, but passes a cookie over anyway. “Where’s your girlfriend, by the way?”

Changbin stuffs half of the entire cookie into his mouth, licking the frosting on his lip. “She has work. But we’re going to meet up later tonight and watch movies. Wanna come?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “I’m good. Minho and I are headed home soon anyway. Right, Minho?”

But Minho isn’t paying attention. His gaze is locked on none other than you and Taehyun, dressed in Hogwarts robes— you in Gryffindor, and Taehyun in Slytherin. He’s seen multiple people tonight sporting similar getups, and so both of you wearing Hogwarts robes doesn’t exactly entail a couples costume, but it makes his heart clench either way. Both of you are standing near the apple bobbing station, laughing and talking animatedly together. It hurts to see you enjoying yourself, while Minho has to struggle to keep himself together, to keep from breaking down on the spot. It hurts that he’s not the one matching with you right now, the one to be making you laugh, holding you on one of your favorite days of the year.

He watches as you and Taehyun walk closer to the haunted house. Your smile has now faded into an unsure expression, skeptical and tinged with fear. Taehyun puts his arm around your shoulders, evidently trying to assure you, before he leads you inside the house. Minho immediately springs up from the bench, fists balled up at his sides. You love everything about Halloween, except for one thing. You hate being in the dark, and so you had always avoided the haunted houses at every Halloween festival or any other event that you and Minho went to. Obviously, Taehyun doesn’t have a clue about your boundaries, and as always, you’re too kind to point them out.

Ignoring Hyunjin’s confused protests, Minho stalks after you and Taehyun, even though he knows that he should sit right back down. He told himself that he’d stay away from you if you didn’t want him, but if he even gets the slight sense that you are afraid, he’ll throw all reason out the window. He won’t let you go inside, not without him.

“Excuse me— you can’t go in right now. The haunted house is at full capacity.” The ticket collector stops Minho even though he shows her the ticket that Jeongin had passed out to everyone before. “Just wait for a few minutes for someone to come out.”

But he can’t. Not if you’re already inside. Minho steps back for a moment, and the collector glances back down at her phone. Before the collector can react, he rushes past her, running inside. She calls after him angrily, but he barely hears her. All he can register is the racing beat of his heart, and the faint screams deeper inside, wondering if one of them could be you.

He whips past the ax-wielding maniacs and the corpse brides in tattered dresses, pushing past their horrible acting and all of the other props in his way to you. Minho feels his hoodie snagged against a cloud of fake cobwebs, and the fake blood on the walls is enough to make him gag, but he goes on. A desperate search in nearly every nook and corner yields nothing, and Minho curses the haphazard quality of the setup, nearly tripping over a loose wire. As he passes through a room decorated like a murderous hospital room, he hears a small whimper from behind the fake operating table.

His senses perk up and there you are, sitting down with your knees drawn to your chest. With how his eyes have now adjusted to the dark, he can faintly make out your crouched body and the shine of your flowing tears. Immediately, he gets onto his knees, and envelopes you with his arms, firmly pulling you against his chest.

“Y/N, it’s me,” he murmurs, the scent of your coconut shampoo blocking out the stench of ammonia.

“Terry and I got chased by one of the ghosts and then got separated,” you mumble as you cry, shivering in his arms as he begins to rock you slowly. “I’m so scared, Minho.”

Minho looks at the tears still leaking down the sides of your face, and has to restrain himself from the instinct to kiss them away. Instead, he puts a steady hand to your skin, gently wiping them away. In this moment, you aren’t broken up. He isn’t your ex-boyfriend, and you aren’t his ex-girlfriend. You are the girl he loves, and him the very soul that has so vehemently devoted himself to even at such a ripe age, an inspiration and a shame to the vengeful spirits that govern your favorite holiday.

“I’m here now. I’m not going to leave you.” Minho gazes down at you. “Are you still frightened?”

You shake your head no, wide eyes clinging to his comforting presence. Minho gives you a small smile, rubbing your jaw softly with his thumb, a movement that doesn’t feel as inherently romantic as it generally would be. “See? You’re not afraid of the dark. You’re just scared of being alone in it. And that goes away when you realize something. You’re never really alone.”

Both of you just gaze at each other in the dark for a few minutes, saying both nothing and yet everything to each other. He carefully rests his palm against your heart, gaging the beat until it slows down to its usual calm. Wordlessly, he helps you onto your feet, his arms still wrapped around you as you both navigate the maze of the haunted house. You don’t encounter any other of the actors, but at one point, you jump in Minho’s hold, spooked by the amplified horror sound when passing by a speaker. Steadily, you both make your way out together.

The first thing Minho sees as he steps out of the exit is the array of blinding lights that shine on his face, in addition to the glow of the raging bonfire that has now been set up for students to roast marshmallows. Then he catches that shock of pink hair in the small crowd gathered outside of the haunted house; Taehyun, distress written all over his features as he speaks to the security guards.

You and Minho, however, stay frozen on the spot, just staring at each other with a fresh uncertainty. Realizing himself, Minho lets go of you. Contrary to how you felt, Minho could always read you like a book. He practically memorized all of your expressions, able to tell how you were feeling in an instant. But the indecipherable look you give him is baffling, but before you can open your mouth and say something, Taehyun notices your arrival.

“Y/N!” Taehyun immediately rushes over, his breathing labored from sprinting the distance to you. “I’m so, so sorry; I lost you and tried to come back inside to find you, but they wouldn’t let me!”

Minho steps to the side awkwardly as Taehyun hugs you tightly, squeezing his eyes shut. Your tears are long gone, and you pat his back softly, giving him the comfort of your safety. “I’m alright, Terry. It’s all good.”

Taehyun pulls back to look at you, before turning to Minho, surprise and confusion on his features as if just registering Minho’s presence. You clear your throat, placing a hand on Taehyun’s arm. “Hey, could you give us a minute?”

“Sure. Of course,” Terry says, the stress on his face softening as he looks down at you. Minho recognizes it— it’s how he always imagined himself to look whenever he saw you.

You turn back to Minho as Terry walks away to a food stand, presumably to get you a warm drink. “Minho, I—”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Minho interrupts, unable to bear any more. He chokes back a sob, his eyes trained on your pained expression. “I need to go.”

“Minho, wait!” You grab his arm, and it places you both in the uncomfortable déjà vu of when everything ended.

He looks back at you, swallowing his dread and pushing away the angsty alert of his brain, the command to let everything go and just take you back, then and there. But he wouldn’t be the man you had always loved, then. Not if he takes advantage of you when you’re like this, vulnerable and exhausted. Not when there’s a perfectly good man standing at a distance, hesitantly holding a cup of hot chocolate for you. Not when he knows that he’s lost his chance of ever getting you back from the moment he gave up on you both. Minho realizes that he doesn’t have the right to call you his anymore, when you’ve finally found a man who prioritizes you over his pride and his insecurities— a man who will treat you right, and will never make you wonder if you’re his only one. All he’s ever wanted is for you to be happy. That has to be enough for him. It will be.

Minho leans down before you can protest, kissing you on your forehead softly. You stay silent, looking up at him with those wide, inquisitive eyes, the very ones he fell in love with. “Stay smiling, always.”

And with that, Minho finally walks away, willing himself not to cry as he tries not to think of his heart breaking.

You watch Minho, dazed, as he walks away for the second and last time. It feels worse, somehow, than when he left your apartment, weeks ago. Minho had spoken to you so gently, inside the haunted house, calming you down in spite of the fact that you had so cruelly broken up with him, and then he proceeded to wish you his best, before leaving. You didn’t miss that note of finality in his voice, the one that told you that he wasn’t going to go back on his word. He had let you go.

You barely notice Terry approaching you, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

He hands you a cup of hot chocolate, as you stare at Minho’s retreating back before it finally disappears within the crowd of partygoers. “Everything’s fine. Thanks for this, Terry.”

Terry blinks at you, slightly unfocused. “Yeah of course. But… can I ask you something?”

You nod, sipping the hot chocolate. It’s so warm and sweet, and it feels wrong to be drinking it. It feels like you don’t deserve it.

He hesitates for a moment, before speaking up. “What happened in there? In the haunted house?”

You bite your lip, still distracted by the thought of Minho; Terry’s question doesn’t pull at you as much as it probably should. “He just found me and helped me back. That’s all.”

Terry looks like he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t, and you don’t question it. The rest of the night is clouded by an awkward rut that has originated from nowhere at all, one that you never guessed you’d experience with Terry. He walks you back to your apartment early, and waits next to you as you fumble with your keys.

“Good night, Y/N,” he says softly, as you finally wrestle your door open.

“Thanks,” you whisper back, too drained of energy to make one of the usual jokes traded when you both say goodbye. He tips his head at you like he always does, albeit in a less jaunty way, and steps into the apartment elevator at the end of the hall, flashing you one last little wave before the doors close.

You turn back to your apartment, walking inside and locking the door behind you once again. This time, you don’t go straight to your bedroom and drop onto your bed, like you always do after a horrible day. Instead, you stalk over to the kitchen, which is illuminated by a single, flickering lightbulb. You tug open the freezer, fishing out a box from your emergency stash of ice cream, the one thing bound to be on stock at all times. When you went grocery shopping some time ago, you didn’t think that a crisis would hit so soon.

Cracking open the lid of the chocolate ice cream, you take your scooper and place a bowl on the counter. After a second thought, you take out your blender as well, and scrape the ice cream into there instead, throwing in some milk and peanut butter as well. Tonight is a milkshake kind of night, you think, the kind that necessitates butterscotch chips and whipped cream as well, you note, opening the cupboard to get said ingredients. When you finish blending, you pour your icy salvation into a large tumbler and collapse onto the living room couch. You turn on the television, blankly staring at the screen while barely registering the dialogue playing.

“That’s not a milkshake— that’s diabetes in a glass.”

“Don’t knock it ‘till you’ve tried it.” You shoot Minho a pointed look as you chug down your shake, savoring the sound of Minho’s laughter even more than a hefty peanut butter and chocolate combo.

It isn’t until you taste saltiness instead of the sweet milkshake that you realize you’re crying.

callmeterry: can we meet? bobaluvrr: yes. see u @ morningstar

You stare into the bathroom mirror, checking your face one last time, inspecting it for bloodshot eyes and dry skin, the telltale signs of the tears that have now become a habit over the past few days. Ever since Halloween, things haven’t been the same since you and Terry. Although a fairly new friendship, you both spent a significant amount of time together after meeting at Jihyo’s birthday party. However, you haven’t seen each other at all outside of Writing Seminar nowadays— probably because during class, you’re too busy staring at Minho, who won’t even spare you a single glance. You’re determined to at least save your friendship with Terry, which is why you are so quick to agree to meet him.

“Catch you two later,” you call out to Sunoo and Soyeon, who both are slumped on the couch, watching One Piece over boxes of takeout butter chicken.

The journey to Morningstar doesn’t take long, especially since the vastly approaching night has gotten you nearly jogging, regardless of how safe your college campus is. Although it’s been nearly a month and a half, you still can’t get used to not having the security and comfort of your boyfriend. Serves you right, you think.

You enter through the glass doorway of Morningstar, the door chime ringing and announcing your entrance to Terry. He stands up from the table he’s sitting at, walking over to you with the genuine smile that you were fearful of not being able to see again. Terry looks heartbreakingly handsome, dressed in a long brown coat and wool scarf, an ode to the plaid shirt days and hot chocolate nights that you know you could have with him.

“Hi,” he says, pausing his gait when he’s a few feet away from you. Tentative, but still Terry. The bouquet of assorted flowers in his hands, however, isn’t.

You can literally feel your face fall, as you stare at the certainly expensive arranged red roses and lilies. “I—”

“Don’t.” Terry’s smile doesn’t fade, but the slight sheen of moisture to his eyes is new. “ I know. I’d rather not hear you say it. Please.”

You’re speechless as he hands you the flowers, the refreshingly floral scent wafting up and screaming at you to wake up. You had a feeling, you knew how Terry felt about you. But you didn’t think he’d act on those feelings so soon.

“You know, I’ve been in love with you since August. You walked into the very first day of class late, wearing this gorgeous pink dress— and God, I was so whipped. I even dyed my hair the same color.” Terry laughs lightly, but you can see the heaviness in his eyes, the same thing that you feel in your chest. “I didn’t approach you, though, because I saw the way you were looking at Minho.”

You shake your head, still in disbelief. “Terry…”

“And then you walked into the kitchen at that party; it felt like a sign. But that can’t have been true, because the way you looked at him didn’t change. It never will.” He stops for a moment, taking in a shaky breath. “When you both broke up, I ignored my heart telling me not to dig myself deeper into this, to leave you alone. But I couldn’t, Y/N, because I thought that the risk would be worth it. And it was, you know. You are worth it.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, at a loss for words. You don’t know what else to say, whether it’s a reaction to how your friend is pouring out his heart to you, or the fact that he’s always known that you’d never be his.

The smile on Terry’s face is now a sharp contrast to the strings of tears that mar it. “Don’t be. It’s Minho. It’s always been Minho for you.”

He turns, but you rush forward and block him. You can’t lose someone else. Not again. “Terry, wait! Can’t we be friends?”

“Of course we can be. I’d rather have you as a friend than not in my life at all. I’ll move on, eventually. But you have to go fix things with him now.” He flashes you another one of his signature beams. It doesn’t have the same joyful effect on you as it usually does, now that it’s tainted with sadness. “I’ll see you next class. Hold onto him, okay?”

Terry leaves, and you stare after him at the door, dumbfounded, haunting the entryway of the coffee shop nearing closing hours. You never saw this confrontation coming, not today. And you didn’t want it to happen any time soon, not like this. But no matter how much you want to deny Terry’s words, you know they are the truth. You know what you have to do. Because love works in strange ways, you realize, and now yours needs to be made right.

“We shouldn’t be here.” You say, shaking your head. “It’s dangerous.”

Minho just stares at you, his eyebrow skeptically quirked in a way that shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. “It’s literally just a bridge.”

You glare at him, before looking out at the arched walkway that connects the wooded expanse of the university library to the rest of campus. According to university lore, any pair of lovers that walks over Forsaken Bridge together is doomed to suffer an untimely separation; hence, its ominous name. And you would rather look stupid for believing in superstition rather than risk losing Minho.

“It can’t be.” You cross your arms stubbornly. “I know so many couples that came here, and they ended up breaking up.”

Minho says nothing for a moment, just pondering your words, and you think he’s about to step back, allowing you to cross the bridge first, before following on his own. But then he grabs your hand, pulling you towards the bridge.

Your immediate reaction is to let out a small scream that cuts through the quiet night, and it’s quickly muffled by Minho’s hand gently closing over your mouth. “Trust me on this. Nothing bad will happen.”

You really want to remind Minho of what happened to Hyunjin and his girlfriend— well, ex-girlfriend— but you let him lead you towards your dreaded destination. Because you do trust him, more than anything.

The balmy summer night sticks to your skin, a feeling that will soon give away to the crisp bite of autumn. You’ve already moved back onto campus to get a headstart on the teaching assistant position for your biology professor, but for the first time ever, you don’t feel sad or apprehensive at the thought of going back to college again. This was the gap in time that you once despised because it signaled the unfortunate trudge of school life: textbooks, homework, and stress. But nowadays, you think it to be a reminder of something better: Minho, Minho, and Minho.

Your boyfriend takes an easy step onto the bridge, his hand tightly clasped in yours. You trail after him more cautiously, hiding behind his broad frame like the bridge will come alive and attack you. “You better not ever break up with me, Lee Minho.”

He turns back to look at you as you both near the center of the supposedly cursed bridge, his lips pressed together in a way that suggests concealed laughter; knowing him, it probably is. “Never. Now close your eyes.”

With a grumpy sigh, you oblige him, shutting your eyes. “For what, Minho?”

“I need to tell you something.” His voice is soft, almost vulnerable. It’s a new color to him, compared to how assured and confident he always seems to be.

You crack open one eye, looking at him curiously. “What is it?”

He frowns, letting go of your hand. “No peeking!”

“Okayy.”

Minho takes a deep breath, right before he turns your world upside down. “I love you.”

Your eyes fly open, and Minho doesn’t complain this time, only gazing at you nervously, clutching his right arm with his left hand like he’s a little kid again. “What did you just say?”

Regardless of his uncertain body language, he looks you directly in the eye. “I love you, Y/N. And I know it’s too soon to say it, but it’s true. I love you, and you don’t have to tell me back, but—”

“I love you too,” you blurt out, and you both just stare at each other for a moment, in mutual shyness and surprise. You can’t believe how good it feels to finally say the words that were hanging off the tip of your tongue for the past few months since you started dating.

Minho’s beautiful face breaks out into a dazzling smile as he steps closer to you. “Then let’s make our own story for this bridge. Two people crossing the bridge together will be lifelong friends. And if they kiss, lifelong lovers.”

Your poor, racing heart can’t take anymore of this; what a man that you have found. “Kiss me, then.”

Minho gives you a tender look, and in that moment, you wish you had a camera to capture it. You can’t seem to remember your initial fear of coming onto this bridge, not when you have a beautiful boy who gazes at you with nothing short of absolute adoration. You’ll follow him anywhere, if it means you’ll stay together. Always and forever.

From when you were a little girl, your parents painted fairy tales for you in your childhood bedroom, of handsome princes mounted on midnight stallions and towering castles set against sunsets. For the longest time, you thought them to be true, because by the time you might have grown up, you found your own handsome prince, who rode a secondhand bike instead of a horse, and his castle was the sweatshirt-strewn dorm room he shared with two other boys. Nevertheless, you so strongly believed you would get your own happily-ever-after, that it took you a long time to accept the thorns in the rosy brush that constituted your outlook on life. You had a hard time understanding your prince, sometimes, and ended up spinning your own stories to fill in the gaps you thought he created. It never once occurred to you that life would never be perfect, and that your prince could not be exactly who you dreamed him to be.

It’s why you stroll the length of Forsaken Bridge alone, materializing its dreary name with your head bent and hands tucked in your pockets. But you’re not surprised either, when you see your prince, standing on the very place where he made you a promise that you broke yourself. His crown is misplaced and his armor has lost its luster, but he’s your beautiful prince, still beautiful while heartbroken over you.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” you say softly.

“I shouldn’t have.” Minho stares at the deteriorating timber planks beneath your feet. “But I can’t say no when it comes to you.”

You shake your head, sniffling lightly. You both hate and love him for being so understanding, so kind, even now. You hate yourself for it, too. “I broke your heart.”

Minho blinks, clasping his hands in front of himself. “There are so many things that I’m sorry and thankful to you for, but you know I’m not good at expressing myself.”

“That’s my line, Min.” You scoff through your tears. “I tried to force you to be someone you're not. And you respond by taking care of me, like you always have. And you listened to me instead of fighting. You walked away.”

“I wanted you to be happy. That’s all I have ever wanted. With or without me in the picture.” Minho shoots you a watery smile. “I love you, you know. I always will.”

You inhale shakily. “And I love you too. I was scared of being hurt because I love you so much. I shouldn’t have been so afraid of what I didn’t know. I should have tried to ask you instead of coming to assumptions on my own.”

“We’re in this together, okay?” Minho steps forward towards you, reaching up to hold your face in his hands. “Remember what I said? You never have to be alone. I’m right here, always.”

Minho rubs his thumbs over your tears, nothing but devotion in his eyes. You touch his arms, pulling him into a hug. “I know I ruined everything, but please come back to me? I’m so, so sorry.”

“Me too. And you ruined nothing.” He squeezes you. “We still have our whole lives ahead of us.”

You draw back from the embrace, smiling through your tears— for once, they’re the good kind. “I love you, Lee Minho. Let’s start over?”

“I love you too, Y/N.” Minho whispers, a grin slowly spreading on his face. “And I don’t want to ruin the moment, but can we begin by finding an apartment, please? If I accidentally drink Hyunjin’s paint water one more time I think I will literally die.”

You laugh, raising your eyebrows at him teasingly. “Only because you want to escape Hyunjin? Not because you love me?”

He rolls his eyes playfully, a light blush tinting his pale skin. “You know what I mean.”

“You should show me what you mean.”

“I should.”

Minho obeys your command, leaning down to meet your lips in a chaste kiss, before you grasp his waist, pulling him closer and deepening the movement. God, you missed this so much. You missed him, so much. Minho’s hands reach up to cup your neck as you trace endless love letters on each other’s lips, campus curses and bad faith banished from your lovestruck young minds.

“See? Looks like our story came true.” he whispers as you come up for air, nudging your nose sweetly with his own. “Lifelong lovers, we’ll be.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.” Minho kisses you once more and pulls back, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “This means forever.”

Check out the rest of boys' stories on Love Playlist!

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

AUTHOR'S NOTE

It feels so good to get back to Love Playlist <3 This whole series itself was inspired by the cute, college au vibes of the K-drama Love Playlist and its spinoff, Dear M. (starring NCT's Jaehyun, a must-see), but this story especially was heavily based on Dear M.'s second leads. Brownie points if you've noticed which hit superhero TV series I took a piece of dialogue from! I just adore that quote so much. Anyway, I'm a sucker for Minho and this story has a special place in my heart. Can you guess who is next?! And thank you for supporting me, always! -Dreamy

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

TAGLIST @chansburgah @hamburgers101@ajxreads @hash2013 @pixigreen @ana-marais98@ohish@chizumiyoshi@lilydaisyyy@jetblackbelle @143hyunes @yeahhspider

Network: @kflixnet

©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

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beezusvreeland · 4 months

Text

now that we don't talk - chapter 6

summary: After being rejected by Poe, the two of you are assigned a mission together. And a lot can happen during a mission.

ship: poe dameron x f!reader

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Armitage Hux was talking to a group of First Order officials. As you and Poe got closer to them, it became clear that Hux was already a few drinks in. He had another in his hand, his red hair was messy and the first few buttons of his uniform’s jacket were open.

“What exactly is our game plan here?”, Poe asked in your ear, his face so close to your neck, he could see that his question made the almost invisible hairs on the back of your head rise. A wave of pride overcame him.

During the few seconds between his question and your answer, Poe was consumed by his thoughts, trying to establish a timeline in his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder: had it always been like that? Was that how your body had been reacting to him the whole time? And if it had, why wasn’t he paying attention?

He was trying his best, channeling all the years of training and experience to focus on the task at hand. Otherwise, Poe would quickly succumb to the truth: the feeling, for him, might be new, but all he could see was you.

You, however, seemed as focused as ever as you strolled confidently through the crowd. The dark green of your dress made you shine even more.

“Stay here and let me do my thing”, you whispered, barely looking at Poe.

“But…”

“Just let me. And if you see me going anywhere, follow me, but be discreet.”

This bossy version of you was extremely annoying to Poe, who was used to being the leader, even if it was you commanding, there was still a part of him that wanted to rebel. This version of you also turned him on immensely, the proximity to you was killing him.

You had a job to do, Poe told himself. Focus on the mission. Now he had to be very alert, his priority was protecting you. It should be getting the notebook, sure, that was important, just not as your safety.

“Poe?”, you whispered back, taking him out of his day dreaming.

“Fine. Go”, he didn’t mean to say it like that, annoyed and impatient. But before he could apologize, you were gone. Gone in Hux’s direction. Poe had a bad feeling about this.

He watched as you slowly approached Hux. You walk behind him and put a hand on his right arm, which made the man finally notice you. His eyes went wide, looking at you from head to toe. Hux started talking to you, but to Poe’s fury, he wasn’t looking at your face, just your chest. Hux’s face was getting redder than his own hair. In part because of all the drinking, but the other…Were you adjusting your dress so your chest would be more prominent? You got closer to him, saying something in his ear.

And that’s when Poe finally understood. He was so stupid, it was so obvious that this was going to happen. You were seducing Hux to get the notebook from him. That was a terrible plan, he never thought you would be the type of agent to do it.

Poe was seething, his look intense enough to burn through Armitage Hux’s body. He just wanted to get you out of there and go back home, notebook be damned. Except, you were obviously not letting that happen. You laughed at something Hux said, the sound was very different from the one Poe knew — and missed dearly. The redhead’s eyes widen more as you say something else in his ear.

And then Poe sees green in movement. He has no idea where you are going, as much as it pained him, he decided to trust you and follow your lead. Hux follows you after a few seconds, walking towards the stairs. Poe goes after him, holding his blaster under his coat, close enough to act if it came down to it, but far enough not to be noticed so soon.

After two flights of stairs, you enter a corridor, Hux right after you, stumbling and almost falling on the carpet. Though downstairs looked like a creepy nightmare, the other parts of the house were very nice. It was colorful, like its owners, but not in an overwhelming way. Poe had to give it to Jib and Boq: the place must be really cozy when it’s not covered in First Order propaganda.

Looking ahead, Poe sees you stopping by a droid waiter and getting two glasses. Were you planning on getting Hux even drunker than he already was? Poe could feel his stomach turning, he shouldn’t have let you do your plan. Even though Hux seemed kind of an idiot, he could still be dangerous. The more intoxicated he got…

Hux caught up with you and grabbed your arm, pushing you behind the long crimson curtain that covered one of the floor’s many majestic windows and went in after you. Once he was out of sight, Poe walked as fast as he could — running would definitely blow their cover — and squatted in front of the curtain, getting closer to hear what was happening.

It started with Hux saying your full name.

Poe took his blaster out, by instinct but also knowing there was no one else around in that corridor. Years of war and espionage had taught him to recognize movement through the sounds around him whenever his sight was compromised.

The same ability let him know, by the sound of your heels, that Hux was getting closer to you. It sounded like you were stepping back from him.

“I never thought I’d ever see you again”, Hux said.

You answer Hux with a soft laugh, using a different type of voice than normal. It was…seductive.

Poe held his blaster tighter.

“Indeed it’s been a long time since we last saw each other”, you said. “I know that we weren’t the closest back then, but I hear you’re doing great things for our galaxy.”

“Oh, yes, I’m one of the top officers of the First Order.”

That was a lie. He had a privileged position, yes, but he was just a pawn in Kylo Ren’s game. Absolutely disposable.

“Well, I’ll drink to that”, you give him one of the glasses. “From old acquaintances to good…friends. I hope.”

Hux laughed nervously and then drank the liquid.

“Look at you…what a beautiful woman you’ve become.”

“Thank you. I certainly am not that awkward kid anymore”, you stepped closer to Hux.

And got closer to you.

“Oh, you’ve always been a sight to behold. But I must say you’re even more beautiful now that you stopped worshiping those disgusting rebels from the Resistance.”

Poe was about to either vomit or shoot Hux. He hated everything that was coming from his mouth. From both of your mouths.

“Oh, yes, what a silly girl I was”, your voice got lower, as if you were almost whispering.

Hux’s breathing became erratic and it didn’t seem to be just from his nervousness.

“But now I’m a woman…”

The curtain moved a bit, someone’s foot almost hitting Poe. His ears picked up the sound of…kissing. Trying to stop his hands from shaking, he checked his blaster — he was good to go.

The agitation inside the curtain didn’t stop. Desperate, Poe got up and went to the side where Hux was. He was about to tear the curtain apart when it all became silent. What had that idiot done to you? Poe pushes the curtain and walks in with his blaster pointed to where Hux was supposed to be.

To Poe’s horror, Hux was all over you. He moved quickly to take him away from you, you said: “He’s passed out. I’m okay. Let’s sit him next to the wall”.

Poe did so, trying to hold his anger from everything that had just happened.

“Was that all from the drinking?”, Poe asked, breathing loudly.

“Yes…The sedative on his last drink might’ve helped, though.”

Poe’s eyes widened.

“What do you mean…?”

“Oh, shush. It’s a little something to put him to sleep, he’s not gonna die or anything.”

You crouched near Hux, opening his suit coat, searching for internal pockets. After a few tries, you smiled at Poe.

“Jackpot.”

You take the thing that was holding your hair out, letting it down. The accessory was actually a small knife. Poe didn’t quite know why, but he found that extremely hot. He also had never seen you with your hair down. He hated Armitage Hux even more now than he ever did, which was saying a lot, but had to agree with the man on one thing: you were incredibly beautiful.

Taking the knife in your hand, you got closer to Hux’s right side and opened more of his coat. You use the knife to rip out the seams of what looked like a fake pocket. Inside it was that damn notebook. That thing better be worth it, Poe had never been so nervous and worried his whole life.

You got up and opened Poe’s coat like it was nothing and put the notebook inside one of his pockets. He felt like he could barely breathe.

“Seems like some guests are having too much fun…”, a voice said in the corridor. You and Poe looked at each other scared. You couldn’t get caught, you had just retrieved the notebook, after going through so much trouble.

“I don’t care what they’re doing, as long as they don’t ruin my curtain or my rug.”

Poe puts one of his fingers in front of his lips, asking you to stay quiet. He got in front of you and pointed the blaster in the direction of the voices.

“Your curtain, huh? We shall see.”

The curtain is pushed and if it had been a millisecond before, Poe would’ve taken the shot. Jib and Boq’s shocked faces were the only thing that held him back. The hosts were speechless, seconds lasted hours. You took a turn around you, and Poe could see your expression changing as you realized how bad that scene looked.

“He’s not dead”, it’s the only thing you had to offer.

Boq stepped in, which allowed him to get a closer look to the stranger on the floor. He sighed, putting his hands on his hips.

“I wouldn’t blame you if he was”, Boq said, calmly. “This idiot has been the pointiest and nastied rock inside our expensive shoes.”

Poe looked at you and saw you were staring back at him. He almost unnoticeably pointed his head in the direction of the blaster. You answered with a curt nod. Poe then took his blaster down and put it back into his holster.

Jib came closer and stood next to his partner.

“So…resistance, huh?”, he said.

“Yes”, Poe answered shortly. “Is that a problem?”

“Buddy, we don’t have any problems if it helps us not being forced to turn our sanctuary into a First Order lair.”

“Thank you so much, Jib. Hopefully we get to help you and more people across the galaxy”, you said, a bit more relaxed.

Jib’s eyes sparkle.

“Ah, you’re a goddamn delight”, he said and turned to Poe. “You’re a very lucky guy.”

“I know.”

On his periphery, Poe could sense your surprise. You cleared your throat.

“Can you help us out of here? Without causing more of a scene?”

Jib and Boq looked at each other and then back at you, grinning.

“Absolutely.”

Poe only understood Jib and Boq’s excitement when they opened a secret passage in their room.

“If someone wants to take our lives, they’ll have to work for it”, Boq explained, seeing the confused looks of you two.

The door, like the rest of the wall, was made of a beautiful type of light wood. It was glistening. Boq started talking about the planet where he and Jib bought the wood, but the latter interrupted.

“Focus on the task at hand, honey.”

The door led to a small room with only a glass table in the center. On top of it, there was a flower arrangement. The room’s other door, though, took you to a flight of stairs.

“You’ll end up inside our garage. It should make your walk to your ship shorter and safer”, said Jib.

“Once again, thank you for helping us. Hopefully, you’ll have a future lacking the First Order”, said Poe, in his “I’m on a mission and mean business” voice.

“Yes, we’re very grateful. I hope you can get these tacky people out of your lives as soon as possible.”

They laughed.

“Delightful”, said Jib. “Now go before the devil wakes up!”

And so, you and Poe went to the stairs.

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<< chapter 5

all chapters

______________________________________________________________

Dear readers,

It took me long enough, but here we are with a new chapter. Fun fact: the curtain scene was what moved me to write this fic. I had the idea an @d it wouldn't leave me until I wrote it. So here it is.

Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know what you think in the comments.

💌 Read my miguel o'hara x reader fic, 'dear reader'

💌 Read my miguel o'hara/reader high school fic, 'a very good idea'

💌Read my santiago garcia fic, 'santi's journal'

💌 I'm on ao3!

Take care!

Love, The writer

______________________________________________________________

tags 💖

@littleshadow17 @multifandomsw @steven-grants-world

@lizispunkk @torntaltos @nervousmumbling

@arysbruv @hardbeingcasual @adriiibell

#now that we don't talk #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron

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fiapartridge · 1 year

Text

late night talking | jack hughes

summary: jack’s having a terrible day and decides to call you late at night…

warning(s): swearing

kinda not in love with this one but what can ya do!

Jack hated calling when it was late at night because he knew you'd answer every single time— even if it meant sacrificing precious hours of sleep and living like a sleep-deprived zombie by the time the sun comes up.

But tonight, he just couldn't resist it.

His day was absolutely terrible. It all started with waking up an hour later than his alarm was set, then missing breakfast with the team because he couldn't find his tan T-shirt anywhere which resulted in him tearing apart his entire hotel room searching for the missing piece of clothing that was simply rolled up at the bottom of his suitcase, then getting a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his new AF1s on his way to the arena, and as the stupid cherry on top, the Devils lost their last road game of the—almost clean sweep—West Coast roadie to the fucking Seattle Kraken.

And he knew you were tired. You spent all day texting him about all of the essays and projects your professors were assigning you. You were awake until 2AM (New Jersey time), hacking away at all of the assignments. You couldn't wait to go to sleep.

You finally put your writing utensils away and stored your laptop in the drawer of your desk where it would be waiting to be opened tomorrow for more work. Your hair was in a messy bun and your pajamas were strapped against your body. You were so ready for bed. You pulled back the covers and shimmied yourself in, careful not to move the pink blanket resting at the foot of the bed.

Skimming through your emails one last time, making sure there wasn't any last-minute work assigned by your professors, you turned off your phone and placed it on the bedside table. Your arm stretched a little farther to click the button on your lamp, but when you saw Jack's caller ID and the photo of him giving you a piggy-back around the Prudential Center, all systems were on high alert.

You sat back up, pulling the phone to your ear. You were terrified. You knew Jack hated calling you late at night— even though you told him loads of times that you didn't mind. So if he was calling you now, knowing it was 2AM where you were, he must've really needed something.

The line was silent when you answered. Nothing else other than a faint static could be heard between the two of you.

"Jack?" you called. "Are you okay?"

You could hear his breathing. It wasn't calm, but it wasn't rapidly fast either. It sounded like a boy with something on his mind.

"Hey, Y/N/N," he said. He was so quiet, it felt like you had to lean into the phone to hear him better.

"It's eleven in Seattle. Why aren't you asleep?" you asked.

"I wanted to, I just," he paused. Static. Calmer breaths. "I just missed you so fucking much, Y/N."

"I miss you, too, but it's only two more days. I'll see you on Sunday. What's going on?"

You couldn't see him, but his head was shaking back and forth on the other side of the line and he was rubbing his forehead like a middle-aged man after seeing his kids scribbling all over the walls. He was stressed and tired and all he wanted was to come home and see you, to sleep in your bed tonight, and to be with you.

"My day was just... terrible. It was unbelievably terrible. It was like one bad thing would happen and then ten minutes later, another bad thing happened. It was like God was just shitting over my entire day. So much fucking shit."

You laughed softly, a slight yawn mixed in between. "I don't think God was resting at the toilet, shitting all over your day, but it sounds like it was pretty bad. What happened?"

He sighed. "No, I should let you go to sleep. It's what? Two o'clock over there?"

"You called, and I answered. Tell me."

He took a moment, like he was actually debating whether to tell you or not. He knew you would go to extreme lengths to get it out of him, and he didn't want to tire you out even more. "We lost."

That was all he said.

Two words.

We lost.

You were confused to say the least. You knew he lost. You kept up with every single one of his games. They won every single road game before that: the Hurricanes, the Ducks, the Kings, the Sharks. So what, they lost to the Kraken? It's not like they won't have another chance to win again on Sunday against the Penguins, or Tuesday against the Golden Knights. There were so many more games to play. What was the big deal?

"Okay... is that it?" you asked. You dipped your toe in, scared that he might blow up and tell you something dramatic like 'it's more than a game, it's my life.'

But the line went quiet again. Nothing more than a bit of static and breathing. But then he talked and you wanted to do nothing more than book a flight out to Seattle and run to him with your arms out. You wanted to be there for Jack— you always did.

He sighed. "It's just— we were losing for so long and when we were winning again, it felt so good, like we were finally back. Like we were a team again. But then we lost and, I don't know, it felt as if we were back on that losing streak, like it was yesterday. Like none of the road games even happened. We were just— losers again."

You rolled your eyes, and laughed. Yes, you laughed. Jack was confused, too. He wondered why you were laughing. He just poured out his entire thought process, all of his feelings, and you were laughing. Why were you laughing?

He frowned. "It's not funny, Y/N/N."

"I know, I know," you wiped your eyes. You didn't know if you were tearing up because you were deliriously tired or you were just laughing too hard. "It's just— you lost in overtime. You were close. It wasn't an 8 - 1 loss, or a complete shutout. You almost won, Jack. It was one goal that separated you and the other team. So what, you lost one game? This one game won't cost you your chances at playoffs and it won't make me love you any less. No one thinks that you are a loser. I'd rather be with you than a guy that's won every single one of his games. I love you, Jack. Win or lose, it's always you."

"So you don't want to be with Pastrnak?"

You rolled your eyes and giggled. "Not into beards."

He laughed. "Really? Because I think I'm starting to grow something here, Y/N/N."

You scoffed. "In your wildest dreams, Hughes."

"Speaking of dreams, I should probably let you get back to that."

"Alright, just— know that I love you, okay? Win or lose; I'm always gonna come home to you, and I'm always gonna love you."

You could hear the sound of a light switch on the other side of the line. Jack was getting ready for bed, too. He crawled underneath the covers, knowing his teammates were probably out getting drunk somewhere at a bar nearby. But he didn't care about grabbing a beer and throwing all of his feelings into Taylor Swift karaoke with Nico Hischier (that was more of a 'you and Nico' thing). All he wanted was to hear your voice, to tell you goodnight, that he loves you, and that he'll call you again when the sun comes up.

Because to him, you were worth more than a lifetime of wins.

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes fic #hockey fanfiction #nj devils imagine #jack hughes one shot

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hana-no-seiiki · 2 years

Text

YANDERE ! BATFAM W/ MILES MORALES (BUT GENDER NEUTRAL) ! READER

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] [ PREVIOUS PART] [ NEXT PART ]

GENERAL CW/TW: Spoilers for Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse. Typical Yandere themes of stalking, violence, and whatnot.

PART CW/TW:

current status: unedited

summary: after free falling into your senior’s arms and having an extremely awkward exchange. you make a new friend as peter seems to know another vigilante that may be able to help. damian calls dick for help. christmas is about to get messy as the final showdown with kingpin is closing in.

Reply if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

WHAT’S UP DANGER

(PART THREE)

“Two thousand off thermometers, two thousand surrounding us, travel two thousand kilometers to hang out with us,

What’s up danger? (Danger) What’s up danger? (Danger)”

Tim was alert most of the time.

He had to be if he wanted to maintain safety.

But that didn’t mean he was expecting a cutie to just fall into his arms.

Still the fact that he managed to catch you and is nonchalantly carrying the weight of all the pasteles your mom sent this morning and whatever concoction of food you’ve had to eat courtesy of faster metabolism for a couple of seconds now is impressive.

It’d be love at first fall if it weren’t for the fact that you were stressed out with the multiverse potentially collapsing into itself.

Before he could answer the question that both of you said in sync you push yourself off and make sure he doesn’t spot any potentially undissolved webbage.

“ Sorry, um, turns out self learning parkour isn’t a totally smart idea. “

Seeing you more clearly now. Tim recognizes your appearance as the person whose dad forced them to say I love you out loud during the first day of classes.

Sure, he was jampacked with activities both in his civilian and vigilante life but that didn’t mean he’d forget an event like that.

He remembers seeing you somewhere else as well, but he couldn’t put his finger on where.

“ I . . . may know a few things about parkour. I can teach you if you want?”

You stared at Tim as he uttered those words. The dark eyebags, the half drunk coffee in his hand (that he somehow miraculously kept stable even after catching you) and thought to the fact that your identity had to be kept hidden.

“ As tempting as it is to have someone as cute as you to teach me, I think I’ll pass. The eyebags look sexy and all but you look like you really need sleep.”

As you watch his skin turn pink you realize one fatal mistake. Two fatal mistakes in fact.

You take a note to check for concussions cause you clearly somehow miraculously gained balls and have been flirting with this cute stranger the past few minutes without noticing it.

Where was this confidence when you met Gwen huh?

“I — uh — have to go!”

Tim notices only after you’ve completely gone out of sight that his coffee has spilled all over the snow.

He stares at all the brown ambrosia he’s lost and wordlessly walks back home.

And before he knew it he was screaming into his pillow like a young school-girl in love.

That’s when he realized where else he’s seen you before.

In the hundreds of drawings Damian has made of your visage.

Jason wasn’t omnipresent. As much as he’d like to be everywhere at once it was simply impossible.

Roy helped a lot with patrolling the city but there was only so much the two can do together, only so much space the two can cover.

So when he met a man claiming to be from another universe with powers that allowed him to basically be anywhere, whenever. Jason was hooked.

Peter B. Parker is apparently his roommate and friend in another universe and is currently trying to head back.

He was skeptical at first. But as soon as Peter started revealing a bunch of sensitive information only people he was close to knew he had to concede.

It was there when he met you.

You reminded him a lot of himself himself when he was younger. Eager to prove yourself to match up the spider-people you met.

As such, he may or may not have been watching over you practice. It started with him casually observing you really. He didn’t know when it escalated.

But, it was his duty to keep citizens safe after all so even after realizing how strange his actions were he still kept an eye on you no matter what.

Seeing you fall into no other than the arms of his replacement struck a chord in him that he couldn’t describe.

He should have been faster (honestly speaking he wasn’t expecting you to be that bad web slinging). He should have been the one that saved your spine from being broken.

But nope, Tim had to be there. Right at that moment. It was as if destiny was laughing at his inability to do anything better than his siblings.

The following days he decided to keep an even closer eye on you.

Unfortunately that meant he was within your spider sense range and you were totally aware of his presence.

After you realized it was just Red Hood being red hood you shrugged and paid no mind to it. You had more important matters to tend to.

Still, the cheeky part of you couldn’t resist and gave him a wave and grin.

Hopefully whatever him and Peter were coming up with works.

As you stare into the broken flashdrive you and the latter stole a while back you grimace.

There was no time. You were to improve now or never.

Jason looked at you. His heart racing uncontrollably at the smile you gave him.

He wondered what other kind of expressions you could make with that pretty face of yours. How’d you look when you were afraid and how relieved and happy you’d be when he comes in to save the day. How you’d smirk when the two of you take down another group of thugs. Backs against eachother. A sign of absolute trust.

You. You were going to be his partner in crime in the future.

And he’d be damned if anything happen to you.

He couldn’t help but be excited for when the other spider-people left the scene.

Damian was slowly but surely losing his mind.

It was winter break and he hasn’t seen you in the dorms at all. If it weren’t for his excessive obsession with replicating your face via art he’d probably forget how you’d look like. (He definitely wouldn’t but a point was being made, okay?)

He thought that you might have been kidnapped if it weren’t for Ganke informing him of your rare appearances.

At least the boy was good for something.

He takes one lengthy, very extensive, look at his brand new expensive phone.

And another lengthy, extremely extensive look at all the sketches he’s drawn of your face, your room, your everything.

It was time to bring in backup.

“Dick. I . . . need your help.”

Taglist: @vanessa-boo @w31rdg1rl @zlatolait-writes @ice-cream-writes-stuff

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xiaosorbet · 1 year

Text

you try to get kaveh to stop working so hard, only to find that he’s not exactly doing work. (kaveh x reader)

1.5k words, no warnings, fluff, reader and kaveh are roommates, written with kind of a college au in mind but nothing specific is mentioned, gender neutral reader

“don’t you need sleep?”

your voice resonated throughout the small bedroom, accompanied only by the scratchy sounds of pencil against paper. your roommate kaveh sat at his desk, focused on some assignment of his.

“no.” his tone was blunt and sure, leaving little room for debate, although the eyebags settling below his tired ruby eyes begged to differ.

you rolled your eyes from your place on his bed. you should’ve expected that answer.

he didn’t look up from his work at all. he was encased in his own little world with his work - although trapped seemed a more fitting word. he spent countless nights just like this: working on a project last minute either because he had scrapped his previous work on the grounds of it being imperfect (to you, everything he came up with seemed fine. amazing, even), or because his inspiration had conveniently only chosen to appear right before a deadline.

a helpless sigh left your lips. you continued to lie on your stomach, watching him with your chin on your palms. he was obviously tired. it seemed the more tired he was, the more stubborn he chose to be about not taking a break.

it was always hard to get through to him on nights like these. bribery, trickery, words of persuasion… none of them worked. each time you tried to coerce him away from his work, seeing him grow more fatigued by the minute, his determination and complete and utter stubbornness won out.

your concern for his wellbeing as his roommate and friend was always clouded by his desire to not only meet expectations, but exceed them and constantly deliver perfection even at the expense of his own health.

but tonight, you would have none of that.

“when is that even due?” you asked him, once more trying to get his attention. if it wasn’t extremely urgent, then you wanted him to get the rest he so sorely deserved, even if he didn’t agree.

a pause. you saw his eyes dart to the side, away from you. “…around this time tomorrow.” he said it haltingly, as if he was a little unsure.

you raised your eyebrow. “will you be busy the whole day tomorrow?”

“well, no… but this is really important. it needs to be perfect,” he turned to you then, resting his cheek on his knuckle. he blew out a small exasperated breath, like a frustrated child would.

and here he was once more trying to justify his simply ungodly working hours with the fact that it needed to be the best. in your ever-changing lives, that was one constant you wished he would break.

feeling somewhat fed-up with his uncompromising will to work himself to death, exhaustion clear as day on his face, you stood up and approached the desk. “let me see it.” you were sure that whatever was on the paper was more than good enough already. he was always too hard on himself.

as you moved closer to his workspace, he sprung into sudden alertness, the hand where his face had been resting moved away, and he covered whatever he had been sketching with both his forearms. you furrowed your brows in clear confusion. he had a sort of deer-in-headlights look on his face.

“kaveh?”

you stared at him, waiting for an explanation. he remained still, arms not budging, eyes looking everywhere but at you.

“come on, i’m sure it’s already amazing. and even if it isn’t, you still have the whole day tomorrow to work on it. you clearly need some rest.”

“but i-” he began. his arms moved towards himself, pulling the scattered bits of paper closer to him, farther from you. you didn’t let him finish speaking.

“tut! no buts. show me.” his behavior wasn’t too unusual; sometimes he’d refrain from showing people the rougher, less coherent of his ideas. but you didn’t care whether it was fully fleshed out and polished or just the messy beginnings of a concept. everything he spun with his mind and fingers seemed to capture you. nothing he did was imperfect to you.

you wished he’d see that, especially during times like this. “i’m sure it’s already amazing, just like everything else you draw.”

“that... that’s not… i…” he stumbled over his words as a faint blush, soft and pink as a flower petal bloomed on his cheeks.

taking advantage of his momentary discomposure, you quickly leaned in and seized a piece of paper from underneath his arms, ready to shower his work with compliments in hopes of convincing him to take a break from pressuring himself so much.

rather than the scribbled words and architectural sketches you were expecting to see, your eyes were met with none other than yourself.

rough sketches of you from the neck up, drawn from different perspectives, this angle and that. all in kaveh’s unmistakable style. you’d know it anywhere, the quick strokes that seemed to move faster than his own train of thought, like his hands knew exactly what to do. except you had never seen it like this, lines moving and curving into each other to form a portrait of a person—of you.

you were speechless. the drawings were beautiful. artful, even. for one thing, you were stunned because you didn’t know he was capable of something like this. and for another, the subject of the art in question was you.

in the time you took to stare at his drawings, kaveh had stood up and watched you silently, waiting for you to say something. you’d expected him to jump up and grab the paper immediately, but it seemed that despite his initial adamance in not letting you see it, he now wanted to see your reaction.

a flurry of emotions flutter around in your chest. mostly bewilderment; the fact that he drew you… and so… beautifully… was this how he saw you? was this really how you appeared to him?

“kaveh… did you do these?” you knew it was stupid to ask, but you wanted him to confirm it nonetheless. when you turned to look at him, he immediately averted his gaze.

“yeah, i did.” his voice was quiet and shy, so unlike the usual confidence he had when talking about his works. he seemed now like a child bracing for judgment.

you tried to move into his line of sight. you wanted him to look at you, to see how you felt about it. to see the astonishment and amazement in your eyes when you spoke. “i love it. why did you try to hide it?”

finally, he met your eyes in earnest. his face reddened once more. his usual loud and bright demeanor was replaced by something softer, more fragile. “isn’t it obvious?”

you shook your head, but it seemed that your body was aware of something your mind hadn’t caught on to yet, a warm flush creeping up your neck and your cheeks. he stepped towards you and held onto one end of the paper. you unwittingly breathed in his scent. you encounter it every single day, every time you pass by him, every time you do the laundry. but in that moment, the smell of him suddenly felt much more intimate.

“look, it’s not finished. they’re just rough sketches.” he glanced at the paper before setting his gaze on your face, looking at you sheepishly. a bittersweet smile played on his lips. “i want to draw you to perfection. i want to capture the way i see you in all of its entirety. these don’t even come close.”

and there it was again, his ever-present perfectionism. it confused you; why would he put so much effort into drawing you?

and suddenly, the answer came as quickly your question had. kaveh’s face inched towards yours, his eyes holding desperate meaning, like he could read your mind and was trying to answer with his expression.

kaveh, he…

“it’s already perfect,” you mumbled. you found yourself in a trance, lost in the emotions held in his gleaming red eyes, yet still wanting to reassure him. “…everything you make is beautiful.”

“not nearly as beautiful as you.”

all of this was to get him to rest… you knew what was happening, but you couldn’t let yourself forget that he needed a break still. eyebags still sunk underneath his eyes.

and yet… while you wanted him to stop working so hard—real work or otherwise—part of you now felt that you just wanted him all to yourself.

and so what you did next was what you’d later call a stroke of genius, a master stratagem to achieve both of your goals. not only that, it was also an expression of what you couldn’t quite put into words just yet.

you leaned in and planted your lips gently against his.

despite the tiredness you knew he was harboring, you felt his lips move to form a little smile as he kissed you back. your heart fluttered in pleasant surprise. you felt kaveh’s grasp on the paper wane before he let go completely to cup the side of your face instead.

after a couple seconds of chaste kiss against smiling lips, you pulled back and he grinned at you, his face lit up with joy, all but forgetting about his earlier discontentment. you smiled back at him before reaching to place the paper back on the desk behind him.

“now… how about a break, hm?”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #kaveh x reader #genshin x you #kaveh genshin impact #kaveh x you #kaveh fluff #kaveh x reader fluff #kaveh #genshin fluff #kaveh x gn reader #kaveh x gender neutral reader

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lindszeppelin · 2 years

Text

The Things Left Unsaid [pt. 2]

-> link to part 1 [x]

Pairing: Austin Butler x Fem!Reader

Prompt: You and Austin were old flames many moons ago, but when he wrote you a letter to come and visit him a lot of feelings rise to the surface. Before it's time for you go to home, can Austin convince you to stay?

Rating: Mature. 18+.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, thigh riding, oral (f. and m. receiving), heavy petting, angst, heated argument, triggering of abandonment issues, spanking, rough makeup sex, spitting, fingering, dom!Austin vibes and sub!Reader

Word Count: 19k

a/n: So due to the overwhelming love I received from the first part of TLU where-in I give Austin his dream Notebook fantasy, this is part 2 where Austin convinces Fem!Reader to stay. Credit to @madisonafangirl for the prompt <3

Dawn crept up on the horizon, a heavenly yellow glow peeked through the curtains that shine through the bedroom window. The faint chattering of birds chirping away in the nearby trees alerted your attention as you slowly make your way back to the land of the living. You must've passed out hard. Austin definitely wore you out after your marathon sex last night, chasing orgasm after orgasm together. Crude flashbacks pass through your minds eye, sending a chill down your spine and a thumping tingle to your lower half.

As you rubbed the sleep away from your weary eyes you could hear the soft rumbling of Austin's steady beating heart from underneath you. You don't even remember how you wound up in this position with your head on his chest and one of your legs draped over his naked body, but you were not complaining in the slightest. The warmth of him next to you under the covers was comforting.

You stirred against him, attempting to stretch your lower extremities but your legs felt like jello after being put through so many positions last night. You tried your best to not wake Austin from his peaceful slumber, but that was shot down quickly as you felt his chest rise and fall, inhaling his first morning breath of fresh air.

The lazy arm that was draped loosely around your waist was brought back to life as he pulled your naked body flush against his side. A deep, groggy moan reverberated in his chest and sent a shiver down your spine. You were perfectly content to just lay here for all eternity, forgetting about all of your responsibilities, being under Austin's gentle embrace.

You lifted your head from his chest and gazed up at Austin, as he plopped his free hand over his face and rubbed his eyes awake. He sighed, perhaps a little annoyed that he had been interrupted from his dreams, but his reality was far better.

His tufts of blonde curly chest hairs were tangling in your fingertips as you laid there fully satisfied and perky as ever. You were never a morning person honestly, but your sexcapades put the biggest pep in your step. He attempted to stretch as well, his thighs drifted further open and practically brushed against your bare core, creating a brand new pool of arousal to form and threaten to spill out all over him. Finally you were met face to face with Austin's sparkling eyes, still half lidded and glazed over with sleep, as he warmly smiled down at you. Even in this state with his honey blonde locks standing up every which way, he looked cute as hell.

Austin took his free hand and entwined it within your hair, doing his best to smooth our your messy mop of bedhead, which he found oddly sexy.

"Good morning, gorgeous." He spoke tenderly, his husky morning voice drenched his vocal chords and ignited that already burning fire within your belly. God, you were practically salivating for this man, you couldn't get enough.

"Good morning, handsome." You cooed. With his hand on the back of your head, he cradled you as he brought you up to his lips for a tender kiss. What started out as a simple good morning peck slowly but surely turned into one dripping with desire all over again. Austin's strong lips worked against yours. His hand around your waist clutched you closer to him before making it's way down past the dip of your lower back, and taking a greedy handful of your ass with a firm squeeze. Lustful sighs were past between you both as you parted your mouth and let him in to explore you with his tongue.

"God, I just can't get enough of you." Austin whined into your mouth between sloppy kisses. And you couldn't either. How the hell you managed to have enough orgasms to last you a lifetime in one evening, and then wake up and be turned back on all over again was a testament to Austin's spell over you.

It was hard to hide the fact that he was pitching a tent under the covers. You could feel him stand to attention against your leg the more you intensify the heated kiss up above. It drives you insane just how quickly he can get turned on by you, fully ready to take you in just a few minutes. And you were the same. You were sure he could feel your wet folds writhing against his thigh. This set you off already as a woman on a mission this morning. The fire in your belly was steadily burning, yearning for him.

"I'm so wet for you." You purr between kisses. You can't keep your hips from rocking against his thigh, your slick already pouring out of you and creating a slippery surface for you to rub your clit deliciously against his muscular leg. He smiles wickedly against your lips, and his cock lobbed against his stomach. He's totally drunk on the feeling of his girl using his body however she pleases to get off. This was already turning out to be the best morning of his life.

"Let me take care of you, angel." He rasps breathlessly. The large hand in your hair snakes it's way down to the back of your neck, grasping at your skin in a light show of dominance. Austin nips at your plump bottom lip, making you moan at this emboldened act of passion. But he didn't stop there, he was overcome by you, and he'd help you reach your ultimate peak as if his life depended on it.

Your heart jumped out of your chest as soon as you felt Austin's hand on your ass helping to drag your wet folds along his thigh that was rutting against you, adding just the right amount of pressure on your clit to get the ball rolling. "Austin! Fuck." You squealed. He watched hungrily as his leg bobbed up and down, his hand pushing you further against him, and you moaning in pleasure as your juices seep out of your core as you ride his thigh.

"So desperate for me. Is my babygirl needy to come this morning?" He cooed, the tenacity of his shaking leg moving faster against your pussy. You couldn't help leaving a sticky sweet trail all over him, he knew just what to say to you and how to touch your body to elicit the most sinful expressions of perversion onto you. You also never thought you'd be so down bad for him that you can get off on just his leg alone.

"Yes! Please, Aus." You mewled as you writhed against him.

"I've got you. Just let yourself go. I wanna feel that pussy make a mess of me." He growled, firmly grasping you harder in his hand and grinding you along his shaking thigh.

You were so close to coming, so excruciatingly close. With every brush of his thigh against your sopping core, and his firm grip on your ass helping to add delicious friction to your clit sent you careening over the cliff. You never thought you were capable of having an orgasm this way, without the need for his fingers, mouth, or cock. But here you are, writhing in sweet ecstasy as you collide your head into the crook of Austin's neck, burying yourself there and moaning his name. Your walls fluttered around nothing, but your release came gushing out of you all the same.

"That's my good girl." Austin rasped deeply, clearly out of his mind with how turned on he is seeing you come all over his leg. Never in his life has he been with another woman who was this desperate for him that she resorts to this depraved act of sexual gratification. It was fucking hot.

You stilled your hips, slowly coming to a halt as you felt all of your juices finally make their exit from your pussy. A flush rose to your cheeks, a little embarrassed at the mess you just made. But he didn't care one bit. The hand around the back of your neck soothed your back as you slumped all your body weight against him.

You huffed, hot air pooling out over Austin's neck as you attempt to say anything, but your mouth is latched onto him. "You are such a hazard." You sighed, your words coming out muffled against his skin.

Your body was jolted back to life as you felt his chest rise and fall, an abrupt laughter falling from his lips. "A hazard? What are you talking about?"

Trying to prop yourself up on your forearms, you tremble as you peel yourself away from Austin's neck. Finally you're met with fresh air, and your lungs happily accept the oxygen. "I just came all over you, humping your leg like a schoolgirl or something. I've never done that for any man."

The corners of his eyes crinkles as he laughed lowly in his throat, his other hand was still idly laying on your ass, which you felt stir on top of your flesh as he gave a leisure squeeze. "So what you're saying is, i'm a hazard because I bring out your inner bad girl?" The hear rose to your cheeks even more, you were sure that you were bright red like a tomato right now. Having to admit that was almost scandalous for some reason. You shyly nodded in response.

He threw his head back against the pillow and licked his lips, humming to himself in pleasure at the very thought. "Goddamn baby, that's so sexy. My naughty little minx." The hand that was laying at the back of your neck brought you down to his level, capturing your lips with his in a sweet entanglement of wanton desire.

You mewled against his lips, and your hand draped over his body was playing with the curls of wiry blonde hairs adorned his chest. You could kiss this man all day for the rest of your life. He certainly knew how to use them in the best ways to have you tingling all over. His succulent mouth brushing against yours, eliciting the faint whispers of whines escaping from him.

He briefly parted from your mouth. His hand smoothed over your head softly as his ocean eyes lingered on yours, looking deep into your soul. The breath hitched in your throat as you drank him in. He was definitely the most handsome man you had ever seen. No one looks this good 24 hours of the day, 7 days a week. But Austin Butler is no ordinary man it seems. You allowed your hand to caress his scruffy cheek with your fingers, feeling the prickly golden hairs move beneath you. An innocent gesture, but it was one that captured his heart.

His gorgeous smile appears on his face. He looked positively love drunk on you, and you committed the way he adoringly gazed at you to memory. In the back of Austin's mind, there were three specific words he wanted to string together and say to you. But he didn't want to ruin the mood, incase you didn't reciprocate the sentiment. He felt the feeling nonetheless, and tried his best to suppress the urge to utter that formidable sentence. It was too early, he needed to wait more before he let himself say it. He needed more time with you, and he would wait until the right moment. Now was not the time. However, he couldn't help but wonder if you were thinking the same thing he was.

Austin let out a contented sigh, and placed a soft kiss to your forehead. "I think it's time to get up." You hum in agreement and carefully untangle your body from his, letting your body fall back against the bedsheets.

He discards the covers and swings his legs over the edge of the bed before standing up. You couldn't help but stare at his delicious backside as you turn over on your side, head in hand, as you make it obvious you like the view he's giving.

You bite your lower lip, enjoying how the sunshine from the window cascades over his sculpted naked body, highlighting his best assets. He walks over to the closet and rummages through the hangers.

"I can feel you looking at my ass." Austin laughs, not even bothering to look behind him to check if you are - because he already knows the answer.

"It's not my fault that you're such eye candy." You retort as you lick your lips playfully. You can hear Austin scoff sheepishly at you as he finally picks out an outfit for the day which comprises of a rich navy blue henley, boxer briefs, and a fresh pair of Levis.

With his clothes in his hand, Austin turns back around to face you. "You're cute. But, I'm in desperate need of a hot shower. And if you're smart, you would stop staring at me from the bed and join me for some pampering before breakfast. I'll let you decide." He threw you a cheeky wink before sauntering off to the bathroom adjoined to the bedroom.

His proposition did sound perfect right about now. While you did definitely need to wash your body of the mess you just made down below, this would actually give you the best opportunity to put a plan into action. While Austin didn't need to necessarily get off, you didn't want to be the only one to come this morning. You'd chastise yourself for giving the poor guy blue balls all day if you didn't help him out.

The faint squeak of the faucet turning alerted your senses, and then woosh! The running water started hitting the shower tiles at warp speed. Now was the opportune time to begin your decent into the bathroom. You peel the covers off of your sweaty body and leap down onto the floor. The cool morning air hits smacks you in the face and send a shiver down your spine. The dress you wore last night was definitely not something you would wear again, besides you couldn't even find it among the messy pile of clothes scattered on the floor for the life of you. Instead, you just figured you'd waltz right in with your birthday suit and figure out what to wear later.

Tiptoeing into the bathroom, you see that Austin is behind the shower curtain lathering his body in a nice sandalwood scented bodywash. That turned you on all over again. But what turned you on even more was the fact that Austin would have no idea what's coming to him, literally, as you fully intend to satisfy him properly. You could practically taste him on your mouth, the thought alone was so tantalyzing.

He was whistling an absentminded tune to himself adorably, so he didn't hear you sneakily opening the shower curtain just enough for you to creep your way behind him without getting water all over the bathroom floor.

Now that you were in the shower with him you decide to let your hands travel up his lean back to let him know you were there. You didn't intend to startle him, but he swiftly turned around, and a splash of water trickled down his face in the process. His eyes widened with surprise for a hot minute, but seeing your wet body and your doe eyes peering up at him dissipated his brief wave of anxiety.

He sighed, flashing you a sexy grin. "I'm glad you decided correctly, baby."

"This was the obvious choice." You spoke softly, smiling up at him. Austin's hands snaked around your curves without hesitation, pulling you into his soapy chest, causing your bare breasts to slip and slide against him. And you fell into his gentle embrace.

Your lips ghosted his, parted and hungry for him to swallow you whole. But he leans down and caresses your mouth with the most effortlessly soft kiss that made you weak in the knees.

You whimper against his soft lips, the arousal already seeping down your inner thighs and being washed away by the steady stream of water cascading over your bodies. Austin was still fully erect, you could feel his rock hard member against your stomach. And he moaned as the sensual kisses you passed each other were quickly deepening with passion. Your fingers were tangling in his sopping wet strands, bringing him further into your mouth. His strong tongue danced with yours, already taking hold of your pillowy lips with such ease.

"Austin," You purred between hot kisses, "I wanna make you feel good." With a little bit of force, you now placed your hands on his chest and pushed him against the shower wall.

Immediately he went to cup your ass as he kneaded the supple flesh in the palms of his hands, getting his bodywash all over you. "You already are." He rasped lowly. His plush lips planted wet kisses along your jawline and down the side of your neck. You tilted your head to the side to allow him easy access, relishing in the way he sets your body on fire.

"No, I had something else in mind." You said breathlessly, getting lost in the searing kisses he's leaving against your sensitive skin. But you couldn't allow yourself to get distracted this early on. You pulled your head away from his mouth and made sure he was intently focused on your mischievous gaze.

With a passion burning in your eyes, you slowly get into a kneeling position before him. Your hands traveled their way down to Austin's muscular thighs that you loved so much and brought you to orgasm only mere minutes ago. Austin looked so damn fine as the hot water ran down his face and trickled along the defined muscles of his lean frame. You clenched your legs together to try and dissipate the ache in your pussy.

"You know you don't have to, Y/N." He looked down upon you with heavy lids, and a look behind his eyes that spoke plainly of his innate desire for you. Even in this situation, he wasn't thinking about getting his own needs met and putting you in a position to satisfy him. While those words flew out of his mouth, he honestly couldn't think straight. You were face to face with his engorged cock, red and throbbing, and begging for release. He was too nice and polite, sometimes to a fault. Oddly enough, that subdued side of Austin sent you spiraling down the path of wanting to see him come undone even more. This man deserves to be taken care of in all the right ways, and you were the woman to do it.

You placed a chaste kiss on his inner thigh, making his sigh lustfully from above. "Austin, let me return the favor."

Well, how could he seriously say no to that? The most beautiful girl in his eyes wanted to make him cum. And the fact that you actually enjoyed sucking him off just to see him get losing in how your mouth works around his cock sets his soul alight. He ran a hand through your hair that was plastered down by the water, getting any strays away from your face that obscured his view. "My darling girl is so good to me." He cooed adoringly.

As you looked up at the man before you, with his now soaked golden locks that turned a few shades darker, and his facial hair glistening by the water, you didn't want to waste any more time. You needed him in your mouth this instant.

One of your hands went to wrap around the base of his cock, while the other one rested on his hip. He was already primed and slippery by the running water, so you didn't hesitate to part your lips and bring the swollen tip into your warm mouth. Slowly but surely you relaxed your jaw and lowered yourself further down his shaft until he was nearly at the back of your throat. Austin sucked in a harsh breath, biting his lip and savoring the feeling of his cock in your mouth.

You were off to work. You began to set a rhythmic pace using both your wet mouth sucking him off, and your hand stroking what you couldn't fit inside of you. He looked so sexy staring down at you with knitted brows, his mouth slack jawed and watching your every move as you milk his aching cock.

"Oh fuck," He moaned, the grip on your hair tightening just a little bit more. Strings of your split came seeping out of your mouth as you worked on sucking his cock, "Just like that."

You whined around him, the vibration sent a chill down his spine as he shuddered around your swollen lips. His hips rose off the back of the wall and his cock plunged deeper into your throat. This time you were well prepared, and had gotten reacquainted with Austin's impressive length over the last few hours. You relaxed your jaw even further than before, allowing him to fuck your mouth if he wanted to. The option was there for the taking.

He was already totally lost in the feeling of you, as your mouth expertly worked wonders sucking him off to oblivion. The sloppy sounds of your wet lips around his cock and Austin's whimpers reverberated off of the tile and were amplified by the amazing bathroom acoustics.

"God, you're so fucking good. Feels incredible." He praised hoarsely. Austin couldn't help but take hold of your hair a little harder and pick up the pace of sliding his cock in and out of your mouth. And you allowed him to do so. You gurgled around his shaft as the head of his cock repeatedly slammed against the back of your throat. Tears were prickling at the corners of your eyes, spilling over and mixing with the water as he got himself off.

Austin's head rolled back against the wall, moaning loudly as you deliciously sucked and swirled your wet tongue over his cock. He didn't want to thrust too hard and fast into your mouth, but you could feel his hips shaking under your hand.

You were desperate to get Austin to his climax, it was the hottest thing in the world to see this sweet, shy man unravel under your ministrations. You decided you didn't want to keep your hand jerking off his shaft any longer. This was your make it or break it maneuver. Upon release of your grip around his cock, you instead let both free hands make their way to his round ass, pulling him deeper into your mouth. Picking up the pace now, you bob your head up and down sloppily along his entire length. You let your tongue lick along the underside of his cock.

Austin shuddered, and you felt him throb hard inside your mouth. "Oh shit. You're gonna make me come so hard." He groaned thickly.

His free hand tried to cling onto anything to ground himself, but the smooth wall behind him lent nowhere for his busy hand to find purchase. So he settled on cupping your head between his hands as he plunged his cock in your mouth repeatedly. You were sure you looked totally fucked out right now, tears just kept streaming down your face as you struggled for air as you sucked the soul deep from within him.

Austin began to shake, and his legs starting to give way beneath him. You both knew his orgasm was impending at any second, it was only a matter of time. So you put on your best moves by moaning around his cock and squeezing his round ass harder in your hands, egging him on. Letting him use your mouth however he needed to find that sweet release.

He closed his eyes and gave a few hard, ragged breaths, letting his body be transported through the motions. "Holy fuck, yes!" He roared. He stilled his hips as he shot loads of hot come down the back of your throat, which you eagerly swallowed, moaning your name dreamily like some kind of sacred prayer as he came hard and fast.

Once you were sure Austin had drained himself of every last ounce of cum down your throat, you were allowed to breathe as you slowly slid your lips off of his cock as you gasped for air. He was still shaking pretty badly as the wave of his orgasm ricochet throughout his entire body. Austin brought you up from your knees with his hands, and crashed his lips against yours, tasting himself on your tongue.

You were both a hot, panting mess. And he looked down at you with all the love in the entire world through his eyes. He eventually settled back down and regained enough composure to speak. "I'm the luckiest bastard on the face of the Earth." He said, giving you a satisfied grin.

"You're welcome." You giggled, marveling at the way his big blue eyes shined crystal clear after you sent him to the edge of the universe. He had a newly acquired bit of enthusiasm that you thought was adorable, and he kissed you sweetly once more before swatting your ass playfully.

"Okay for real now, we need to get the both of us cleaned up. Lest we give each other about 10 more orgasms until the water turns cold." He chuckled shyly. He reached around you to grab his shampoo and squirted a generous amount into his palms, working it into a lather. "Turn around." He asked politely.

You do as he asks, facing yourself away from him and turning straight on into the jet of running water, allowing it to run down your face and wash away your sinful blowjob tears.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." You quip from over your shoulder. Austin takes his hands and begins massaging your scalp with the shampoo, cleaning any muck and dirt out of your hair with tender loving care. You closed your eyes and softly moaned at the feeling of his fingers working over you.

"It's not, but i'd receive a hefty electric bill at the end of the month." He playfully jabbed, still paying extra attention to getting every inch of your scalp as spotless as possible. His touch is firm yet calculated, treating his most prized possession with as much tender loving care as possible. Once he thinks he's done his best work, he places his hands on your shoulders and leans down to ghost his lips over the shell of your ear. "Face me again, baby." He spoke softly, his sexy baritone making you shiver.

Gingerly turning back around as to not slip on the floor, your eyes meet his, and he smirks adorably. His hands find residence back on your waist.

"Now lean back and rinse." He commanded. You enjoyed Austin in this role of doting caretaker. You've forgotten what it felt like to have him do all these normal, run of the mill tasks on your behalf. And somehow it just does all the right things to you. There's something so sensual about this particular moment that seems kind of erotic, after all you did just have his cock in your mouth a few seconds ago. But the way he's looking at you now, like you're the only girl in the world, leaves your heart doing summersaults in your chest.

You follow his orders and tilt your bubbly head back into the stream of water. You start to rinse away the shampoo from your hair with your hands, making sure not to miss a spot. Austin is just taking full advantage to ogle at your heavenly naked form before him, as he cradles you in his strong arms.

A wicked smirk plays at the corner of his lips. While you're working on cleaning your hair, you hear a bottle cap pop open and plop back down on the ledge of the shower. Before you know it, you feel Austin's large hands covered in bodywash all over you.

He's like a kid in a candyshop as he has total access to all the best bits of you at his disposal, getting all soapy and slippery under his hands. You stifle back a whimper as you feel his palms cup your entire breasts, kneading and massaging them.

"You're so sexy like this." He mused huskily. Knowing this would drive you crazy, his fingertips trailed featherlight circles around your nipples. Austin licked his lips in delight as he felt your nipples stand to attention underneath his calloused digits.

"Austin!" You gasped. You brought your head back up from the water and watched him as he played with your bountiful perky tits in his hands. If there was a running tally for which of you could turn the other on the most this morning, you'd be evenly matched. He knows you love his hands too, they're one of your favorite parts about Austin's physical body. Your brain fogs up with arousal as his nimble fingers caress your hot skin. "What happened to getting us cleaned up 'for real'?" You teased.

An ember was already overtaking his ocean eyes before you. "What's it look like i'm doing?" He retorted devilishly. He sucked his bottom lip into his teeth, his soapy hands working wonders on your breasts.

"Um, I think you're working yourself up to orgasm number 50." You giggled, amused that he tried and failed miserably to remain on task. Your forehead makes contact with his as you sigh wantonly against his plush lips that are so close to closing the distance between yours.

"I don't know what you're talking about..." He says halfheartedly, clearly trying to play dumb. Between your lathered up bodies you peer down and can see his cock already pumping back up. This man's sexual appetite for you is insatiable. It takes every single ounce of willpower you have within you to not go on the attack and fuck him right now in the shower, as much as you want to. And while he was making such an erotic display of affection, which was not lost on you, you could feel the water turning tepid the longer you both stand here touching each other.

It's hard work, but you try your best to stand firm and not get distracted by his gorgeous cock or his hands playing with your nipples, making you wet all over again. And the way he's seducing you like he wants to swallow you alive is starting to send you under.

"Austin Butler..." You begin your attempt to dissuade him, but your lusty breaths give you away. He giggles cutely, scrunching his nose.

"Uh oh, the full name treatment. I think i'm in trouble." He sighs heavily, regaining his senses as his hands reluctantly remove themselves for your breasts that he lavished with so much attention. He splashes water on his face and shakes his head to snap himself out of it. His cock ached to be touched by you in all of the ways, but he tried his best to not let all of the blood rush to his ballooning member. "Right, get outta here woman. I can't do this with you distracting me. It's too temping". He smacks your ass as he escorts you out of the shower, the two of you laughing at your near encounter.

"I'll go make breakfast while you finish up." You say as you wrap a soft while towel around your body, covering up the supple flesh that he so eagerly wants all for himself.

He pokes his head out of the shower curtain. "That sounds perfect. Now go on, get. I have to clear my head of all the sinful thoughts you bewitched me with." He chuckles lowly in his chest before disappearing back in the shower. The tune he was whistling before you pounced on him was playing right where he left off. All in all you'd say that was a job well done on your part.

You roll your eyes at his playful remark and make your way back into the bedroom to dry yourself off. You figure that for now it's easier to steal one of this oversized t-shirts and throw it over yourself. And you forego panties, since the ones from last night are definitely going in the trash. You go commando for the time being. It was the perfect lounging around outfit.

While Austin is finishing up his shower, you head downstairs to put together a simple breakfast of pancakes and syrup. And you both ate to your hearts content. He thanked you properly for the delicious meal by coaxing you into his lap and finger fucking you to another rippling orgasm. He just honestly can't help himself. He popped a boner the minute he saw you teasingly spread your legs from across the dining room table, revealing your pussy in all it's glory.

But the entire day wasn't spent just being in each other's physical sphere. You eventually did have to go back to the hotel to retrieve your suitcase. He made a compelling argument of why should you pay for a room you're not even using when you can enjoy the rest of your time at his farmhouse? It was a smart idea. And you didn't want to be away from him any more than you both thought was necessary. So be kept busy while you threw on a pair of his sweatpants and headed out the door to grab all your things, making sure to not leave anything behind. It was a nice feeling to know for certain that you wouldn't be going back to the hotel emptyhanded or disappointed.

Obviously it was evident that you and he didn't have a whole lot of time left with eachother under these circumstances. At the end of the week you'd have to go back home. While day one was spent with incredible anxiety that faded away into a blissful reunion of your bodies colliding once more, day 2 was spent exploring.

It was still relatively fresh in how you two were bonding again. And you made sure to take the time to learn more about his life post-breakup. Apparently he took up gardening and purchased books on general carpentry so he could be prepared to renovate the house. Perhaps these sudden interests of his sprang up because he wanted to distract himself from the pain of not being with you anymore. Why would he dedicate his time and sensitive emotions to getting sucked down into a depressive state, when he could be out in nature, breathing new life into the soil? It just so happened to work out in his favor. They say that you sew what you reap, and he's reaping all the benefits of having you back into his life.

As morning transitioned into afternoon, Austin took you on a stroll through his plot of land. It was seriously massive. You figured he had at least a few acres all to himself. What one person needed with all that land was beyond you. Not that you were against country living at all, it was a serine existence. But all you knew for the last few years was the little 500 square foot studio apartment that you called your home. Compared to this it seemed as if Austin was living the high life out here. The more you get reacquainted with your old beau the more apparent that he thrives on his solitude. Which you always knew about him anyway, he was a very independent and private person. But this was taking things to the next level. You were proud of him for creating a safe space for him to feel grounded when all his life he's been rife with uncertainty. It genuinely warms you heartstrings to see him happy again.

When he talks to you about hobbies he's passionate about, or recanting to you a particularly interesting story about a particular hero of his he's met, his hands get shaky with nerves and he ramps up his speech, talking a mile a minute. It's really cute. And you allow yourself to just listen as he regales you with these momentous tales from his extraordinary life.

You try to take a page out of his book and settle into just being happy in this rather unusual set of circumstances. It wasn't productive right now to think about the past or the future. Everything was so uncertain. And there was still a lot to unpack. You never thought you'd seamlessly weave yourself back into the fold of Austin, but you do. At least for now anyway. And that's enough for you.

The rest of day was spent inside, cooking dinner together, listening to music, and making passionate love to each other until dusk became dawn. You two were falling into a predictable pattern now - get up, shower, maybe divulge in shower sex if you're feeling frisky, make breakfast, clean up, probably more sex, and passing the time between then and dinner. No matter what it is, you're attached at the hip.

As the gorgeous Georgia sun rose on the third and final day of your visit, Austin made the sweet suggestion of reading one of his favorite poetry books outside to get some fresh air. You knew he loved to read, and in your past relationship he made it a habit to read aloud to you every night before bed. It was a charming gesture of your once domesticated coexistence. You thought for old times sakes that you'd agree to let him read to you. Honestly, you just love to hear him talk. He could recite the phonebook and you'd be hanging on his every word.

You both settle on the swinging chair on the porch. He's got his head resting in your lap, and his long legs are sprawled out on the side of you on the chair. With his poetry book in hand, he flicked his nebula eyes up at yours, beaming a wide smile. "Ready?" He asked, excited about the prospect of reading to you once again. It's nostalgic for all the right reasons. You nod your head, and he begins.

Time seemed to slow down in this moment. And you were both basking in the calm serenity of this beautiful day with one another. His head in your lap was reassuring and it brought you a strange sense of comfort. Your hand was idly stroking his tousled sandy waves, the other one rested on his heart. You bask in the expansive landscape of this little paradise you've found yourself in as Austin's soothing baritone lulls your senses. Occasionally he would pause from reading to take your hand from his chest and place a gentle kiss on your knuckles before continuing on. It was perfect. Maybe too perfect.

You really didn't want to walk the smokey trail and ruin a nice moment with Austin. But you can feel your palms get clammy and white noise like static permeates your senses. It can be so effortless to get caught on the thought that's been at a low rolling boil these past three days. You didn't want to hear it. You didn't want to be reminded of the realities of his situation. To look it square in the eye would mean that you break the illusion of this fairytale that you allowed yourself to get swept up in. Now that it was all too clear that you'd have to make your way back home to Boston tomorrow morning, you allow the little devil on your shoulder to talk in your ear.

Was all of this really the right thing to do? Once the night was over, you'd have to make a choice. Can you allow yourself to let this be nothing but a whirlwind romance and return back to your life that you built without Austin? It's so much easier said than done to get back together with your ex, no matter how happy you make each other. Not only that, but Austin's obvious celebrity status makes him high profile. Unlike before where you two could actually go buy groceries or watch a movie at the theaters without anyone knowing who he was. This was different. Once the media and his fans caught word through the grapevine that you two are an item, it's gonna be incessant pressure on all sides. Your identity will be spread around online and soon enough everyone will know who you are. The hot button topic of all the gossip rags will be you and him, scrutinizing every aspect of your relationship. All your dirty laundry will be aired out whether you like it or not. He said he wanted to protect you from all of this. How does he intend to make that happen? You're not naïve to what it all means. A normal relationship with Austin simply isn't in the cards for you both, and that realization slaps you silly.

It's all slurring together in your mind and suddenly you feel dizzy, just like the first evening you spent here. Your brain starts to tune out Austin's voice the more you spiral down, and he's completely oblivious to your internal crisis.

As if reading your mind, suddenly Austin stirred beneath you, aware of the hand on his scalp that stopped rustling his long tresses ages ago. He paused and turned down the corner of the page to mark his spot for later. The book snapped closed and he let it rest in his lap.

"Y/N?" He called out from beneath you, looking up with concerned eyes. You still didn't hear him, you were completely zoning out and lost in the tangled web of your own self destructive thoughts. He definitely noticed something wasn't right, and it made him worry.

Austin took your hand that was resting on his heart and brought it to his plush mouth, planting demure kisses on your palm. "Honey, come back to me." He softly spoke, trying to bring you back down to wherever you had drifted off to, away from him.

In the midst of you drowning in your own thoughts you felt his kisses on your hand, and you rapidly blinked your eyes as you were brought back down to Earth. As you regain your surroundings you look in your lap to Austin's uncertain eyes, looking for reassurance of your current state.

"Sorry, I kinda just spaced out for a minute there." You said, trying to not give away the fact that on the inside you were losing your mind.

"Is everything alright?" Austin asked earnestly, he placed another kiss on your palm.

You nodded, "Yeah I'm good." You said plainly. That didn't really quell his anxieties, but he wasn't about to try and coerce you to speak openly if you didn't want to.

Austin tore his eyes way from you, examining your dainty fingers in his hand as his fingertips touched your skin. "I probably bored you to tears with my reading. I can get a bit carried away." He chuckled demurely. A faint rosy hue rose to his cheeks at the embarrassing thought that he might have rambled on for too long about the poetry. If he had known that you actually were on the verge of a mental breakdown you weren't entirely sure if that would make him feel any better about his passion for reading. So you brushed your feelings under the rug.

"No, Aus, don't worry about it. I think maybe it's a good time to think about dinner." You said, trying to sideline this conversation and avert the attention elsewhere. It wasn't a whole lie though, you were hungry for another five star meal from Austin Butler, Chef Extraordinaire.

Austin left his spot from your lap and went to stand up, stretching his limbs a little, getting the blood flowing and shaking away pins and needles. As he stood, the swinging chair rocked briskly and you tried to plant your feet on the ground in fear of flying away. "Alright, I could go for some dinner right now. Let's put a raincheck on the poetry."

All you do is nod and smile at Austin's suggestion. You weren't sure when you were going to have to sift through the cesspool of your unsteady emotions, but you hoped it could wait until after you both filled your bellies with some nourishing food.

He can still sense that you're keeping him at a distance, and it's not something he finds validating to his confidence. His ego may be deflated, given the fact that if there's a problem he'd rather fix it on the spot. But he soldiers on. It's been such a wonderful day spent with his favorite girl that he will risk walking on eggshells for the time being. He lets you walk ahead of him into the house as you both think about what to cook.

The two of you make dinner in silence. There's an awkward tension hanging low in the air that threatens to suffocate the both of you. It's extremely obvious as time goes on that you're lost in your own world and he's drifting further away from you. He doesn't want to poke and prod his way into your mind, but he wants to be let in from behind the locked door. If he can help dispel any burdensome thoughts you have then he will do his best. It pulls at his heartstrings to know that you're not willing to open up in this moment.

You're helping out with the cooking by slicing up some vegetables on the wooden island in the middle of the kitchen. And Austin works around you by sautéing some things on the stove behind you. Normally you and him would have music playing in the background to help make cooking dinner a little more playful as you both sing hilariously out of key. But the only sounds that were audible were the sizzling of the pans and the incessant buzzing in Austin's ears.

Ever the patient person and not one to enjoy confrontations, he forgoes what his brain tells him to do, which is shut up and not saying anything, in favor of listening to his gut feeling. Austin let's go of the wooden spoon he was stirring with and gripped the edge of the countertop, perhaps a little too hard. A discontented sigh harshly exhaled from his nose, his nostrils flaring. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed to know what was wrong with you so he could fix it, or attempt to do something.

Austin threw his head over his shoulder and spoke back in your general direction. "I know something's bothering you and I don't know what it is. Can you please talk to me?" He said carefully in a low tone, but slightly putting his foot down on the gas. He didn't want to come across as overbearing or pushy, but you were blocking him out.

When you didn't respond right away he turned on his boot heels and walked his way around the island to stand across from you. He placed his hands far apart on the wooden surface and leaned forward to you. You didn't bother to look at Austin for even a second. The red peppers you were chopping up seemed like the safest thing to focus on right now. Your heart raced in your chest as the conversation you tried to put off was happening right now. "Baby please, what's the matter?" He asked with a little more desperation to his voice.

You hated hearing Austin plead with you. But you just didn't want to make the situation tense or awkward. Unfortunately, your plan backfired on you because you can't hide your feelings very well. And Austin knows this. He remembers that when you're frustrated, happy, sad, and everything in between that your body language tells the truth and not the words coming out of your mouth. It comes across in the way you round your shoulders, you purse your lips, and narrow your weary eyes. He felt like he was walking on a tightrope and if he looked down for a split second he could plummet to certain death.

Since he had you backed into a corner, you had to fess up and spill the beans. This was gonna be unpleasant, but might as well get it over with. You sighed, your chopping coming to an eventual halt as you put down your knife on the cutting board.

Finally you muster up the strength to look Austin in the eye, and a lump formed in your throat. His eyes were pained and the gears were turning in his head at warp speed, wondering what got you this way and if he was the problem. He already thought in some aspects he was unworthy of your affections, and this unexplained change in your demeanor was keeping him off balance. Seemingly for him it came out of nowhere and all of his anxieties about losing you were rising to the surface. He was terrified, and so were you.

You swallow thickly. "I've just...been thinking that's all." You say softly.

Austin nodded and shrugged. "That's a start. Thinking about what?"

"About this. What we're doing." Your hand gestures out for emphasis.

Without missing a beat he batted his lashes and shifted his weight a little. "Care to expand upon that for me?" He asked expectantly with a twinge of confusion behind his question.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose with your finger and thumb. "Austin please, I didn't really wanna get into it right now." You mumbled, annoyed that Austin's trying to pull this out of you. To be fair, you knew this would happen. Why you thought you could successfully keep this under control you had no idea. But now you were annoyed at not only him, unrightfully so, but also yourself for handling the situation poorly.

His lips tensed up into a thin line across his face as he never breaks eye contact with you, which in this moment is a little unnerving. But the heat is rising through his body, temping his Leo energy to come out and play. "Well, since you wanna mope around the house and give me the silent treatment, I'm afraid you've left me with no choice. We are getting into it, right now." He said with a little bite.

You placed your hands on the countertop, inadvertently mirroring his body language. You let your head fall in front of you. "Goddamn it." You grumbled. This is not going well at all.

The electricity in the air was palpable and rich with strife. Austin attempts to manage his irritation by diminishing his gaze to you in a submissive manner. He can feel his body shake as the adrenaline crashes over him like a tidal wave. He couldn't argue with you, he didn't want to. But his choices for handling his situation are vanishing before him. Austin lowers his tone as he speaks. "Y/N, I'm honestly begging you. Let me in. Being left to my own devices to think about every little thing I might've said or done to offend you is driving me fucking insane. Throw me a bone here. Will you please tell me what's the matter?" He pleads wholeheartedly.

Austin's words cut through your defenses, putting a crack in the wall you tried to build around yourself as a coping mechanism. As you lift your head back up you run your hands over your face and take a deep breath, walking away from the island. You let out a frustrated groan. "I-I don't know, I mean...what's even going on here? We had a great few days together - okay, fine. I can take them for what they are. But then what comes after this?" You say in a frenzy as you pace the kitchen.

Austin remains level headed in his approach as he watches you cross your arms and walk dizzying laps back and forth. "I feel like the answer to your question is pretty obvious."

"Oh really? Well it's funny you say that because from my point of view it's not." You snap back, not even bothering to look up at Austin as you feel yourself getting flustered under pressure.

Austin removes himself from the island and goes to stand closer to you, but keeping out of your way as you walk your laps back and forth. "What, are you telling me that after all this...after every incredible moment we spent together, that you don't want to try and work things out between us? Is that what I'm supposed to extrapolate from all this?" He asks. His brow furrows as he tries to make head or tails of your thought process. Surely you two and he had an unspoken understanding that what transpired over the last few days was mind-blowing. And it was obvious to him that there was no chance in hell he was letting you go back to the east coast without making you his girl, officially. What changed between morning and now?

You stop dead in your tracks and face him for the first time in what felt like ages. Even in this heightened state of emotions you still looked beautiful to him in your blue silk nightie with a slit on one thigh, and your chunky knit cardigan thrown over you to take the chill out from the breeze passing through the open kitchen window. Even now in this moment he still holds all the love for you.

You sigh loudly, dropping your tone a pinch but the words still come out strained. "Austin, it's so much easier said than done. This isn't like some fairytale where everything magically comes together in the end."

Austin raises his fluffy blonde brows. "My sentiments exactly. I may be a bit of a self proclaimed hopeless romantic, but I also see things pragmatically. That's why I said we try and work things out." His shoulders are tense as he now folds his arms in front of chest. The rolled up sleeves on his vintage denim shirt emphasize his biceps and you can't help yourself from glancing down at the sculpted muscles for just a millisecond. You chewed your cheek, chastising yourself for letting your resolve faulter at this important juncture. And with all the heated words being thrown around, Austin hoped that his pleas were getting caught in your brain and not falling on deaf ears.

Your arms fall to your sides as you shrug your shoulders. "Okay, but how?! Please tell me, Austin. How is this supposed to work out in the real world? I have a career and a life back in Boston. Have you forgotten about that?" You ask, raising your voice.

He makes a confused face as if that was a serious question and not rhetorical. "Of course I haven't. I'm not suggesting you move out of your apartment this instant. But what I am suggesting is that you give us a fighting chance." He carefully emphasizes his words so there's not even a sliver of a chance you'll misconstrue his intentions.

"How the hell are you so certain that things between us will work out this time?" You ask as you place one of your hands on your hips.

He looks at you plain as day, serious in his demeanor. He can feel his mouth go dry as he plucks up some internal courage to press on. Austin isn't sure if this is a losing battle, but he's gonna try his best to speak his truth. At least he knows he's getting to the heart of the matter and knocking down your icy resolve. "I'm not. There are no guarantees with anything in life. What I am certain about are my feelings for you. Do you not feel the same way?" The gravelly timbre in his voice is a stark contrast to the butterflies in his stomach, and he waivers slightly as he lays his cards out on the table.

You hear exactly what Austin is saying. And it sticks like glue, finally. However, your jumbled brain simply cannot back down on the inferno it started. "You know as well I do that feelings aren't enough, Austin. I'm trying to think big picture here. If I go back to Boston and you stay here in Georgia, where do we go from there? How does it work? Seeing you maybe once a week on facetime while you're in some exotic country filming your next blockbuster movie? Getting to see you in person a handful of times before the year is out? Is that seriously enough for you? Because if we're doing this then I want certain promises from you. And if you can't make good on those promises then I honestly can't see this being for real. Regardless of how these last three days went. I don't know, maybe it was irresponsible to get involved again. Maybe you shouldn't have written to me in the first place." You said. You didn't mean for what you said to come out a bit terse, but all came pouring out of you like word vomit. You were twisting the knife deeper into Austin's vulnerability. His abandonment issues that stemmed from his childhood were being heavily triggered, and at this point all hell was about to break loose. He uncrossed his arms and walks closer to you. His blood is boiling and he isn't sure how much longer he can keep this going if you won't even give him a chance to hear him out.

His imposing figure towers over you. He again has you trapped into a proverbial corner you can't escape. Even in the open arrangement of the kitchen and conjoined dining room you feel small standing in front of him. Your eyes scan over his blue orbs. You're not sure if you're seeing right in your state of mind, but you're certain you see tears threatening to spill over his face. That wasn't something you were prepared to see. You could feel a bit of the wind in you sails topple over as the man before you trembles, his handsome features downturned.

Austin's heartbeat is in his ears. He steadies himself as best he can. The hurt in his voice is unmistakable. "You wanna know something? I've had some pretty insane things happen to me in these last few years that are pretty unfathomable to express. Every time I think that i'm okay, that i got this, i'm proven wrong. I do press junkets all day, I make public speeches that stop me dead in my tracks with crippling anxiety, I work on sets with a crew of people that adopt me as part of the family and then that family breaks up once filming is over. Inevitably I go back home to an empty house, and i sit with my thoughts. Often times, I lay awake at night and I can hear your laughter playing like a loop in my mind. I close my eyes and I immediately see your face. You've tormented me for all these years. It was excruciating for me to go on living my life without you. It felt like half of me was missing. So as you're standing here right now and you look me in the eye and have the nerve to tell me that feelings aren't enough I call bullshit."

There was a moment of intense silence that ambushed you from all angles. His words cast away most of the doubt that plagued you. And yet, you revert back to replaying the traumatic separation all those years ago in your mind. It didn't have to end like that. Even though you understand why it did. He could have spared you both the immense loss if he had just clung on tight to your relationship. His confession drudged up a lot of feelings that you haven't allowed yourself to come out in so long. It was uncomfortable, but Pandora's Box was already open.

His baby blues were misty and red as he tried his best to not let the tears spill from the rims of his eyes. You could sense the familiar lump in your throat and sniffle settle in your nose as the sting of tears pricked your eyes as well. You placed a hand on the back of your neck and tried to rub the stress away. If you looked at Austin any longer you would crumble to a million pieces, so you averted your gaze down to your feet. "It's just so difficult when I think back to how things ended between us. You left me in the dark to figure out what the hell happened." You spoke solemnly in a hushed tone.

Austin placed one of his hands over his heart in earnest. "And i'm an asshole for that. I'm not a perfect person, I have flaws and I fuck up. My biggest regret was letting you walk out of my life. And yes, I did it to protect you. But now that you're here with me again it's like we've been given a second chance. I have the capacity to make you satisfied in so many ways. More than I ever could before. Please, please allow me to take care of you. You can stay here in this house with me. I can help you relocate and get a good, well-paying job in your career field that you deserve. We don't have to be living life alone anymore." At this point he was almost begging on his knees for you to stay. But was that enough for you? He wasn't sure, but he was doing everything he possibly could to hedge his bets.

The severity of just how messed up this whole situation was hit you like a ton of bricks to your chest. You were so close to breaking down into a heap of loud sobs on the floor. Unfortunately your pride would not allow you to do that in front of the man that loves you and simultaneously hurt you. To put your trust in the whim of a second go around was not something you were inclined to do in this very moment. The little devil on your shoulder was jabbing it's pitchfork into your brain, shutting down all of your rationale. While this relationship was going to require a lot of work, more work than was ever required of you in the past, it wasn't something that was impossible to do. If this was worth saving then you both would have to make sacrifices in order to make it work. But the tremendous weight of it all was baring heavy on your shoulders. You huffed, and turned away from Austin as you padded on your barefeet towards the door. "God, this is just too much for me." You spoke aloud to yourself.

Austin's nerves shot right back up to 100 as he saw you schlep away. "Where are you going?" He asked, his eyes bulging from his sockets.

"I don't know, somewhere. I just need to think about all of this." You said idly, not wanting to expose your soft innermost core that was screaming to be loved by him.

Austin was fast on his heels. And he was much taller than you, so he had the advantage of making a beeline towards the front door with his long legs. He blocked your way out before your hand had the ability to reach out and grab the handle. "Hey, don't you dare walk out on us. Don't go hiding away because you're scared. You talk to me. I'll be damned if we don't get to the bottom of this right now." He spoke in a demanding tone.

You stood as tall as you could, not backing down for one second. "Scared? You got some nerve telling me that I'm scared." You snapped back, but your voice faltered as your heart pounded hard in your chest.

"Why else would you run away from this conversation if you weren't scared, huh? Is this what you're gonna do when things get tough? You walk out on me? There isn't a goddamn chance in hell I'm allowing you to be so foolish like that." He said, raising his voice to match yours. The annoyance dripped from his vocal chords like molasses.

You were starting to see red. He stopped you from leaving the house and now he was calling you out on your bluff. Your ego was now entirely speaking on your account. "You can be a real arrogant son of a bitch, you know that?" You said, practically spitting out the harsh words.

He somehow loomed even larger over you as he took one step towards you, slightly closing the gap between your bodies. The heat was rolling off of him in droves, and he could feel your resentment all the same. It was game, set, match. "And I'm pretty sure you're the most stubborn woman I've ever met in my life." He said, laying it on thick.

His words left a bitter taste in your mouth. "Oh my god! Now I'm stubborn?! I can't believe you right now." You said angrily.

Austin wasn't about to back down. He ventured forward with the ball in his court. "I'm sorry to break it to you, but you knew that this wouldn't be easy. I can see from your perspective that being with me isn't a cake walk, alright? Believe me I get it. But it's equally as frustrating to be with you sometimes. Right now is a prime example." He said, sardonically.

You leaned forward into his personal bubble to assert yourself back into the conversation at hand. You weren't about to let him have the balls to say something like that to you. Not after everything that's happened. "Okay Austin, since you seem to have all perfectly crafted answers, what happens if we do get back together but we breakup again? Did you think about that? One or both of us will end up getting hurt just as badly the second time. I mean, look at us! We're already fighting."

Austin had lost his patience for you so long ago, he wasn't sure how he was managing to somewhat hold it together. His love for you overrides every other need he has. It's not about being right or wrong, it's about speaking honestly from the heart. And that's his forte. "Yeah, that's what every couple does. As much as you're trying to paint me as the villain right now, I didn't write you with this Machiavellian scheme to fuck you and then leave you out to dry once I got my fill. And i'm pretty sure you knew that because if that was the case you'd have already been on the first plane out of here."

You crossed your arms again as you take in what he just said. The guy was right! Why were you fighting so hard against him? You're too far gone in your flight or fight response to rationally come back from this argument at dinner. And you hated that he was pulling back the curtain as you still attempted to shield yourself away from his reach. Maybe you were scared, and maybe you really were stubborn. While he was much bigger than you, you could try to get in the car right now and drive back to Boston, which you knew was a stupid idea. So instead, you thought your best mode of defense was more sass. "And your point?"

Austin held back on the inclination to roll his eyes so far into his noggin. He remained firm. "My point...is that it's never going to be simple when it comes to you and I - unfortunately. But I don't give a fuck about any that because I want to be with you. I want to tirelessly work at this every single day with you. You're the only woman I have ever yearned for, and craved to be with so ardently. And I know that somewhere deep down in your heart you feel the same way. Because why else would you still be here in my company, cooking dinner with me, reading with me, making love to me, and even continuing to fight with me if you didn't want me too. Am I wrong?"

Silence befell the both of you. He looked at you with a fire burning in his eyes. You felt like a deer in headlights. How can you fight back, or have any leg to stand on after what Austin just vehemently raved about? There's no point in backing down or running away. It's impossible. No matter how badly you want to allow yourself to be all consumed with these arduous negative feelings and hide away in Boston, never to see Austin again, you simply can't.

It's as simple and as complicated at you both make it out to be. Of course you each played a role in how things went down since the breakup. Perhaps you were being unfair in putting all the blame onto Austin, and not wanting to look in the mirror at your own causation. And in a lot of ways it was easier to believe this false narrative you were spinning and stay stuck forever. This man standing before you was your everything. You would have given him the life of marriage and children if everything went according to God's perfect plan. But, maybe in some twist of fate it just had to unfold in this way. Everything aligned at the right time. This whole thing didn't start when you got Austin's letter in the mail three days ago. It started on the very first day you two broke up. The magnetism of your electric bond was still pulling you two back together. To think that you fought tooth and nail to deny the intensity of your feelings for him only to fall right back inline with his soul upon minute one on arrival.

As you gaze up at Austin, who's eyes pierce through the thin veil of your never ender list of pathetic excuses, you know there's only one way out of this.

When you don't render him with any form of response, he clicks his tongue in his mouth haughtily. "Hmm. That's what I thought."

Swiftly, and catching you by surprise, Austin bends down and throw you over his shoulder.

"Austin, what are you doing? We have dinner on the stove!" You screech.

"To hell with dinner. There's more important things to tend to." He says firmly.

You feel like a child who's being put in a timeout by her parent as Austin hoists you over his shoulder, gripping onto the backs of your thighs as he shuffles through the kitchen with you in tow. You try desperately to cling onto any part of him that your fingers can reach as you feel unsteady over his broad shoulder, and it's not helping matters that Austin is fast on his feet.

Austin readjusts you higher on his shoulder and releases one of his hands as he expertly turned off the burner on the stove as he makes his way around the island. At least he had the wherewithal to not accidentally burn the house down while he has every intention of setting you straight. His only destination is the bedroom, and he wastes no time in climbing two steps at a time up to the second floor. You feel dizzy as he jostles you around like a ragdoll. But he somehow isn't even breaking a sweat.

Austin manhandling you shouldn't be hot, specially under this circumstance of the fight you just had. But your body betrays your mind as you feel the familiar tingles of arousal spreading over you down below. The door to the bedroom is already open, and he grunts as he leans one of his knees on the bed and throws you down onto the comforter.

You bounce back aggressively as he tosses you onto the bed without a care. And he leaves you with no time to react to your new surroundings as he's on you in a flash. You gasp as the bed sinks beneath you as Austin crawls lowly, stalking you like you're the main course meal, and sinks his plush mouth onto yours. He straddles you, pushing your legs far and wide as he takes up as much space as possible, fully covering your body with his lean frame. He needs to be on every single inch of you, desperate for skin to skin contact.

His mouth isn't tender or graceful, it's all tongue and a clashing of teeth. You can taste the essence of red wine on his lips from earlier in the day, and his woodsy cologne overpowers your senses as he literally eats you alive. He groans heavy in your mouth, and as your tongues work back and forth in a dance for mutually assured control you're overcome by the overwhelming nature of his masculine dominance. You feel yourself little by little succumbing to his touch.

His large hands roughly get a full grope of your ample breasts, clothed by your blue nightie. You moan into the vicious kisses, a smirk plays on the corners of Austin's lips as he knows you're becoming unglued by the second. He has you right where he wants you.

You can hear him growl low in his chest as he takes whatever he wants from you, his tongue plunging in and out of your mouth with a frenzy. His lips work against yours in such a sinful way that you can't help but arch your back off the bed and try to meet his clothed erection pressing into your lower stomach. But he's not about to let you take the reigns. This is his time to shine. No more is the sweet man that read you poetry as the cool Georgia air wafted through your long hair. That man was put to rest. You've awakened something visceral, something animalistic from within him that he never let any other woman see. His unyielding love for you is borderline intoxicating and all consuming. And tonight you'd experience just how intensely he wanted you.

His plush lips pull away from yours with a pop, and you both pant heavily as you gasp for oxygen. But it's not long before Austin is on the attack, licking and sucking down your neck. "You have no idea what you do to me." He moans gruffly against your neck. He's painting you like his own personal canvas with his mouth as he leaves behind large purple bruises in his wake. "I thought I'd lost you forever once before, but seeing you almost walk out of my life for a second time - fuck, I can't handle it."

Your hands rummage through Austin's hair as he trails searing, desperate kisses down your collarbone. All you can do is mewl and writhe underneath him. You're a slave to the attention he's lavishing your body with, even if he is intermingling pleasure with a bit of pain. It did scare you a little bit seeing Austin so overcome with emotion in his plight to keep you here. You aren't sure what this man is capable of in these circumstances. He could snap you in half like a twig or he could fuck you over and over again into orgasmic bliss until you're crying and chanting his name like a sacred prayer. Both options were seemingly on the table and your heart leapt in your chest at the uncertainty of which Austin you're getting right now.

You're not sure if you should say something or take the assault of his frisky hands and mouth, and honestly you can't formulate any words as Austin pulls down the front of your nightie, exposing your breasts to the cool air. Your nipples already harden into pert buds under his intense stare, and he licks his lips hungrily before suckling the left one into his hot mouth.

"Mm, Austin!" You whine. He rolls his tongue around your nipple before he grazes his teeth between the sensitive flesh. You hissed, and your pussy clenched around nothing as your juices stated to flow.

His baby blues peered into your soul as he watched your beautiful features contort with pleasure. Treating you this way was getting him hot under the collar. He let out a soft moan around your breast as he rocked his clothed cock against your stomach, never fully meeting the part of you that desperately wanted his attention. And he knew this. Soon enough he knew the more he worked you up into a tizzy the more insatiable for him you would be. And he played on that to his advantage.

He released your nipple with a wet plop and focused his attention on the right one, still licking and sucking and nibbling with his teeth all the same. This was already driving you insane and he barely touched you. Your hips rose off the bed and was determined to get some delicious friction to your aching pussy on his hardened length, but it was no use, he was off of you as fast as lightening. Your breast jiggled before him as he pulled away from your nipple. Austin's lips were pouty pink and swollen from his barrage of kisses and sucking on your flesh. But he was nowhere near done.

He looked at you like a wild animal in heat, and it turned you on like no other. He was a man on a mission and nothing would get in the way of his perfectly unfolding plan. You knew in your brain that you'd have to just lay there and take whatever he would dole out to you.

He sucked in his bottom lip between his teeth as he roamed his hands down your sides and over your stomach, touching every precious inch of your body he could claim as his under his scorching hands. As Austin sat back on his heels and admired your curves, you could clearly see now just how hard he was for you. He was pitching a large tent under his jeans and you whimpered wantonly as even more of your slick collected into your dripping folds. Austin nearly lost it as he pushed your legs apart even further, exposing your sparkling pussy to him that was already red and throbbing for him.

He groaned hoarsely. "Jesus Christ, woman, you just love to taunt me don't you? Waltzing around my house with no panties on. What a slut you are." His words rattled around in your brain, causing all of the neurons to short circuit. Did he just call me a slut? You don't even have time to quip back at him with a remark, two of his long slender fingers have already pushed past your tight walls, filling you to the brim. Your wetness made it so easy for him to slide through your womanhood without prepping you first.

You let out a strangled moan as he masterfully curls his fingers in a come hither motion against that spongy spot inside you. He knows all of the exact buttons to push and how much pressure to apply to have you spiraling out of control.

He looked love drunk with power in this moment. It barely took him any effort to make you sticky and slippery, just like how he always wants you. His pupils were blown black, no ounce of those genteel angelic blues were present. They were glazed over with lust and control. He looked like a greek god with his golden waves plastered to his forehead with sweat as his hand macerated your pussy. "Were you this aching and wet for me while we were fighting downstairs? Did I get you all hot and bothered, little one? Seeing me fight for what's mine make you wanna drop to your knees and beg me to fuck you?" He said through gritted teeth, jaw clenched, and ragged breaths.

Your whole body rocked back and forth as Austin set a a steady pace with his fingers. Your walls spasmed around his digits, soaking him through to the bone. The sounds of your juices sloshing around his fingers filled the room. Your needy, incessant cries of pleasure were only spurring him on. He didn't need you to reply, you both already knew the answer. A flush rose to your cheeks. You couldn't hide how much you wanted him even in the throws of your argument moments ago. Even as you were ready to march out the door never to see Austin Butler again, your burning desire for him kept you tethered. You could never really walk out on him, you love him so desperately. He knows you well - body, mind, and soul. No matter how angry or irrational you both get with those vile words that are meant to sting only momentarily, you can't kid yourself that this man is your everything. And as he's finger fucking you to the high heavens, looking down at you like you hold the key to his very existence on this planet, you allow yourself to bend to his will. You'll be his good little slut like you both know you are.

Whimpers kept pouring out of your mouth like a running faucet, flooding Austin's senses as he looked down at you, fucked out on his fingers. You couldn't even look him in the eye, a shyness crept over you as you realized how quickly you were willing to throw your ego out the window in this moment. You tucked your face into your shoulder, shrinking away.

"Please, take me however you want. I just need you, Aus. I need all of you." You groaned, embarrassed by your confession and his digits hitting all the right spots inside you.

Hearing those words from you had him nearly coming in his pants. He throbbed hard and proud. He wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Seeing you fall apart under his skillful hands had him high sitting on his throne of power in this moment.

He moaned, and pressed his free hand on your lower stomach, adding to the pressure of his fingers inside of you. "Let's go baby. You want everything I got, hm? I knew I could fuck some sense into that pretty head of yours. I'm gonna make you cum so hard you won't even remember your name." He said all this through gritted teeth, the pace in which he's fingering you and the pressure on your lower stomach increased so deliciously. The sounds of your moans and the obscene noises your juicy pussy was making was the obscene soundtrack to this night of debauchery.

That coil in your stomach tightened. Your entire body was shaking, and you both knew you were on the precipice. All it took was a few more masterful hard thrusts of his fingers brushing against your g-spot to make you come undone.

"Holy shit, Austin! I-I'm..." You couldn't even finish warning your man before you clenched tightly around his long digits. A slew of profanities drained from your mouth, and your wetness coated Austin's fingers thickly.

He sat back on his heels with a smug expression on his face, like he knew he could get you there in record time. The pent up sexual frustration you both felt for each other was astronomical. And you'd be a shell of a woman by the end of the night. You knew damn well Austin was gonna make good on his promise to fuck you to the stratosphere. Already you felt like you were taken on the ride of your life. And this was only round one.

"Fucking incredible." Austin bemused as he watched you come back down to earth, still shivering in the aftermath. He pulled his fingers out from your pussy and watched as the slick from within you seeped out from your needy hole. His hand glistened, and he admired how the slick pulled from his fingers.

He usually would suck his fingers clean of your juices, but tonight he was a different man. Instead he brought them to your lips and tried to force his way through your mouth. "Good girls clean up their messes, isn't that right?" He purred.

You've never tasted yourself on his fingers before, you were taken aback by this side of Austin you've never seen. But a part of you is turned on by the fact that you make him this way. So you oblige him. You part your lips and allow him to dip his fingers in your mouth, wrapping your tongue around his digits and sucking off the wetness.

His brow furrowed at the sight of you sucking his fingers. "Lick it all up, just like that. Now you know what I taste every time I go down on your heavenly made pussy." He moaned thickly. "Don't miss a single precious morsel, babygirl."

Austin was thoroughly enjoying you vacuuming up your nectar from his fingers. It wasn't a taste sensation you were used to at all, but it was erotic all the same. His fingers plunged just a little too far in your mouth, causing you to gag around his fingertips. His lip twitched into a satisfied grin.

"Mm. Such a good little slut for me." He praised hotly. He removed his fingers from your lips when he thought you cleaned them thoroughly. And without warning he wrapped his hand around your throat, clamping down enough to cause your breath to hitch. Your eyes widened in trepidation, and instinctively your small hand tried to wrap around his wrist to gain leverage.

Austin leaned down, his face tantalizingly close to yours, but not close enough. He let his soft lips ghost yours in a feather like touch, never fully giving you what you want. "Before we go any further I want to set the terms. You say you want me to take you any way that I so desire. Well, let's see if you're true to your word. Because trust in this honey...I will take what's mine and leave you gasping for air. You'll be drowning in my cock, pleading to cum. And if you're a good little girl then rest assured I'll take care of you so good you'll be seeing heaven. That's fair, right?" He asked tauntingly.

A strangled moan escaped your lips and your grip on his wrist tightened. Austin fully intends to drag this out and make you his bitch. And tonight, you are. You nodded your head yes as your answer. But that didn't satisfy him enough.

He hummed lowly in his chest, "Are you sure you wanna catch this smoke, darlin? Once you give yourself over to me there's no going back." His words have a double meaning to them. Clearly indicating the unfolding of events in his bed, but also his intentions with you. Once you allow yourself to fold into his world, blending effortlessly your life with his as his woman then there's no walking out. It's the ultimatum you didn't want to be faced with. But the argument from before is fully out of your mind right now. He was right. You knew going into this what you were getting yourself into. Seeing Austin turned all the way up to eleven with his sexual appetite had you weak in the knees. You knew he would never hurt you, even in this sex crazed modality. You both had some things you needed to release. The catharsis it'll bring to be unified with Austin in this way is knocking on your door. And you open it.

"I said I need all of you. So give it to me." You coax lowly. You knew you were poking the fire, but that was all he needed to turn on you at warp speed.

His grip on your throat released. With a force within him that he never knew he had his hands went for the slit in your nightie still on you, but not for long. With a grunt and a flex of his biceps, the silky fabric ripped and melted off of your body like butter. He made it look so easy, and you gasped at his brazen action. Suddenly now you were fully exposed to him, bare breasts and all for the first time tonight. He allowed his eyes to wander down your supple womanly curves, but not for much longer than a few seconds. With a quick determination he flipped you over onto your stomach in one fluid motion.

His large domineering hands claimed your body. One held onto your hip and the other ran down your back, pushing your upper body into the mattress. "Face down, ass up". He commanded hurriedly. "Stay exactly like this, don't fucking move." And so you stayed there, patiently. You felt the bed shift beneath your knees as Austin rose up and stood by the foot of the bed. With shaky hands he removed his denim shirt and unbuttoned his plants. From where you were situated you also heard the familiar noise of a zipper being tugged down. Being in such a vulnerable position, unsure of what Austin had envisioned for your body was frightening. But you signed up for this, and you were gonna take it.

Austin panted as he chucked his pants and boxer briefs off his long legs and tossed them to the side. You were itching to turn around and see him in all his manly glory, but he didn't give you the chance. He was back on you, the bed shifted again under your weight as he knelt behind you. Austin's hands went to your ass, palming the flesh and kneading you in his hands before delivering a smack that rang loudly in your ears.

You jolted forward and hissed from the sting. "Austin!" You whined. Your hands gripped the sheets already. He had you flustered.

"That's my name, don't wear it out." He said sardonically, and he gave you another smack on the other cheek, making you moan. Your ass was red and sore after Austin spanked you good a couple more times, never once stopping to check and see how you were taking the punishment. He could tell by your moans that through the pain you were enjoying the act. And if it wasn't obvious enough, the more he spanked you the wetter they would sound as your slick dripped down your thighs. "God, you're soaking wet for me. Must be ready for this cock, hm?"

"Please..." You whine into the pillow, your ass leans back to try and chase his dick, getting any kind of friction from him. But he puts a halt to that right quick. He's stronger than you, and his hands roam down to the backs of your thighs, gripping them a little too roughly, digging his nails into the soft meaty flesh.

"Easy now, little one. You don't get to decide how I take this pussy. Do I make myself clear?" He asked, delivering a surprising smack to your bare pussy. it wasn't enough to hurt you but the blow was softened by your sticky slick. You groaned at the strange sensation, the sting of his hand reverberated deep within you, causing your clit to throb.

"I'm sorry, sir. I'll be good I promise." You mewled.

Austin hummed delightfully at your obedience. A cocky brow raised. "That's what I like to hear."

Austin waited a little too long before he took his cock in his hand and pushed his red tip past your opening. You both moaned in ecstasy as he sunk his length fully into you. "Like a glove." Austin moaned.

In no time Austin was slamming his cock into you, your tight walls clenching and fluttering around him as he takes what's his. His pace is unrelenting. He's pistoning in and out of your wetness. And all you can do is take the brutal onslaught. "Oh fuck!" You screamed into the pillow.

He threw his head back and growled, totally overcome by you. "Christ, you're always so goddamn tight for me."

He grips onto your hips as he continues to plunge deeply in and out of you. Your ass bounces right in his face and he loves the view. "Look at you, sweetness. Taking me so well. My cockslut. I know you love this dick." He groaned lowly, his husky voice striking the very core of you.

You gush around him at his vulgar words. In the back of your mind you remind yourself that you're his ever devoted slut, so you play into the role. "No other man could ever fuck me like you do." You moaned lustfully.

You felt Austin's cock throb harshly around your fluttering walls, and he growled at your words. "Fucking right, baby. Your pussy was tailor made just for me. And my cock is the perfect fit. Oh, God-" He moaned loudly, his grip around your hip tightening, surely to leave bruises all over your backside by morning. The way you were milking his cock as he brutally fucked you from behind sent him careening over the edge.

Without warning Austin balls your hair into his fist, yanking your head back from the pillows and you gasp for fresh air. You squeal, feeling as if he's toying with you in every possible way. Austin leans down close to your ear. His grip on your hair tightens with calculated control.

"Tell me how much you want me." He snarled in your ear. Austin snaps his hips harder, his cock bruising your cervix deliciously with every deep plunge through your tight wetness. It's so good your mouth hangs open and you furrow your brows, unable to speak or say anything.

Austin reached around and slaps your ass harshly, bringing you out of your stupor and groaning at his hand sinks into the round of your burning ass cheek. "I wanna hear you say it. Use your words." He ordered through gritted teeth.

A long, drawn out moan slipped past your lips as he rammed your g-spot over and over in the way he knows drives you crazy. You shudder and clamp your pussy around his dick, earning you a moan from Austin. You bite your lip. "Fuck, I just wanna be with you and only you. You fuck this pussy so good. It's all yours. Take what you want from me. Use me, make me full of your cum. Please, Aus." You moaned, begging for him.

"Oh I will, baby. I'm gonna pump you full of my load, good and proper. Ruin you for any other man. Mark you as mine. My girl, my best girl. My one and only. Forever and always." He groaned, he meant every word he said too. It wasn't just in the heat of the moment that made him say these things. Through fucking you to pieces his cup for you was overflowing with the strongest love he's ever known.

His thrusts somehow picked up the pace even faster than you ever thought was possible. But Austin was nowhere near close to being finished with you just yet. Just when he let you get used to the frenzied speed of his cock slamming into you, he plants his right foot out on the bed and takes you deeper and harder. His grip on your hair releases, and your head falls back into the pillows as you practically scream hoarsely at how he was taking you.

Suddenly, you can feel a glob of wetness pool around your folds and drip down your clit and your thighs. Austin had collected a mouthful of saliva in his mouth and spit it out between your conjoined bodies, letting it coat his cock. While you were already soaking wet, this just aided him even more in slipping his engorged cock in your swollen cunt. Austin growled at the sight of his glistening cock disappearing into your pussy and back out with more wetness. The sounds of your fucking sounded like the sauciest pot of macaroni.

You turned your head to the side and let out a slew of needy whimpers. "Austin, can I cum please? I'm so close."

It would be pointless to deprive you of your orgasm now after you made such a show of your devotion, and he for you. As he approaches the finish line with you he will grant you your request.

"Mm, you asked so nicely, little one. Get ready to see those pearly gates. You're going straight to Heaven, my angel." His free hand snakes around your body and toys with your clit that's drenched in his spit.

"Oh fuck, Austin! I'm coming!" With a few masterful swirls of his callused fingertips around your red clit, you scream his name as you unravel underneath him. The tidal wave of your orgasm is crushing, and you shake hard as you struggle to maintain the position your in any longer than necessary. And thankfully he's close.

"Oh God, sweetness, i'm gonna cum in that pretty pussy." He bellows with his head thrown back, savoring the feel of your climax wash over his cock. His hips tremble and his thrusts become sloppy. It only takes a couple of sharp plunges into your cunt before he moans your name. Thick ropes of his white seed paint your walls as he comes undone. All of the frustration built up from before was all coming out in droves in your pussy as your body eagerly drank up every ounce of his cum. He had marked you in various ways that you were his, and this was the final act of his show of devotion.

After some time of letting his cock marinate in your intermixed orgasms he pulls out of you and collapses beside you on the bed on his back. You're both totally spent, you don't even have the strength to roll over. All of your limbs feel like they're on pins and needles, and your ass is on fire after the abuse it endured by Austin's hands.

After a few moments of trying to catch your breaths, he turns over on his side to look at you, your face buried in the pillow, shaking.

"You alright, baby?" He asked concerned in a hushed tone. Normal Austin was back, and he was worried he took things a little too far tonight. A soothing hand went to stoke your back as you came down from your high.

So many emotions flooded to the surface. And you just laid there for a moment to soak it in. You've been such a damn fool. Every single pathetic excuse, while some of the concerns you raised might be valid, holds no water. There was no way you were going back home as the same person before you got on that plane to Georgia. Everything had changed.

Perhaps it was the endorphins causing havoc on your brain, but something you never thought you would say this early on left your mouth before you knew what was happening.

"I love you." You said softly, barely above a whisper. it felt like the most natural thing to say. You weren't gonna be stupid and pretend like you don't love this man. He took you to heights that you weren't even aware that you could venture to. And above all, even through all the fighting and the confusion, the man laying next to you now looking like the most beautiful creature to ever be made by God's hands was your one and only. Austin was your other half, regardless of how hard-headed and difficult you wanted to be.

Austin's brow arched quizzically, and his heart raced. He wasn't sure if he heard you right, but surely he couldn't mistake the sound of your first I love you in years. His eyes were bright as the summer sky and clear like crystals. His hand on your back paused, just resting there stunned.

He blinked rapidly and shook his head. Was he hearing things? He had to know. "What did you say?" He asked, he didn't mean for it to come out a little desperate but he was on the verge of having a heart attack.

You heaved one last ragged breath before turning your head out of the pillow and facing him. Your heart leapt out of your chest when you saw him, his flushed red lips were trembling and you could tell he was shaking from nervousness.

It felt like you were saying I love you for the very first time. Never have you felt so vulnerable than in this moment. The expression on his face painted the picture, he was holding on to the hope that you felt the same way for him. Austin had wanted to say it the other day but swallowed down the natural inclination. He was afraid he would lose you all over again. And you nearly walking out on him sent him spiraling down the path of no return. It was unbearable to think of living without you. And you knew after tonight that you clearly felt the same way. As if you even needed any more convincing.

One of your arms sprang back to life, and you reached out your hand to stroke his face, your thumb being prickled by his blonde facial hair. Austin's breath hitched in his throat at your sensual touch. He swears that if he couldn't hold it together that he could probably start crying any second. The anticipation is killing him.

You clear your throat and take a deep breath, looking him square in the eye. "I said, I love you, Austin Butler."

Austin let out a breathy chuckle. He was overjoyed, to put it mildly. And you were giddy all the same. It felt so freeing to finally say those three simple words. He didn't know what to do with himself. He wasn't sure if he should throw you over his shoulder and fuck you against every surface in the house, or break down crying with happiness. Both options sounded good right about now.

"You love me?" He asked honestly, his emotions bubbling to the surface. His big puppy dog eyes broke your heart into a million pieces.

"I do." You said faintly.

Austin leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and gently rubbing his face against your hand. His lips grazed your thumb and placed the smallest of kisses to the pad of your finger. "I fucking love you, Y/N Y/L/N". He was on cloud nine.

You blushed a deep shade of pink and you bit your lower lip, stifling a girlish giggle that wanted to escape. Well, there was definitely no going back now. He was smitten with you and you were the same for him. It felt like two souls coming back together as one, and it felt so right.

A wide, beaming smile spread across his features, and a twinkle in his eye that wasn't there before was suddenly shining so brightly behind his baby blues. He slid over to you and gently rolled you over onto your back, being mindful that he went to town on your body and you were still recovering.

Your legs spread for him instinctively and he settled between them. This felt like the most long awaited homecoming. Austin propped his body weight on either side of your head with his forearms. One of his hands smoothed over the flyaway hairs that were out of place. He was over the moon and glowing. And so were you. Your hands went to stroke his svelte waist.

"Goddamn, she loves me." Austin sighed lustfully, mostly to himself in a manner of which he almost couldn't believe.

You giggled even more as he nuzzled his nose against yours in the cutest eskimo kiss. His lips found their way to yours and you melted into his touch. You both moaned into the kiss longingly. The embers of your love grew deeper by the second, and the two of you probably could have gone another couple of rounds. But Austin pulled away from the kiss and licked his lips, sighing.

"How's about you and I go clean up in the shower, and then we figure out what to do with dinner?" Austin suggested.

You nodded. "I'm pretty sure what we've already got sitting on the stove isn't good anymore. Should we just get takeout?"

Austin passed you a confused look. "Babe. Be serious. Takeout here? What delivery driver is gonna come down here in the middle of nowhere? I live out in the country for a reason, to get away from people." He laughed.

"Okay you're right, I didn't think about that." You chuckled, blushing adorably.

"Besides I love cooking meals with you. We can think of something else to make." Austin pondered.

"Mmm. I don't know about you, but i'm kinda craving breakfast."

"Oh yes, baby. That sounds delicious." He grinned happily, kissing you once more before pulling you by the hands off of the bed. "Come on now, let's clean this mess up. I gotta make sure my babygirl's pussy is in tip top shape." He threw one of your arms around his neck and he lifted you up in his strong arms, cradling you into the bathroom. You both laugh as he whisks you away.

You spend a healthy amount of time under the hot, steamy shower cleaning each other and giggling like school children. This feels like the beginning of the sweet honeymoon stage all over again, and you never want the feeling to end.

After your shower you towel dry your hair and throw it up in a messy bun. Since your nightie was shredded in two, you have to remedy the situation. You think it's only fair that you go into Austin's closet and pull out one of his favorite clothing items, his grey Velvet Underground hoodie. it was perfectly oversized and comfy on your frame, plus you looked sexy in it so he allowed you to steal it this one time.

Austin threw on some grey sweats and a black thermal. He situated his hair by letting it hang limp along his forehead, letting his waves airdry to messy perfection. The two of you make your way downstairs and throw out what was on the stove, making way for a heartly plate of breakfast for dinner.

Through your cooking the pair of you couldn't stop touching each other and invading one another's personal bubble. It just felt like the most tender of reunions. He was wearing this stunning loved on look every time he passed a glance in your direction. And you were sure you looked positively lovestruck as well, you could feel the flush in your cheeks and the excited emotions rise to the surface just being in his company. It was an amazing feeling to know that you could allow yourself to be happy for once in your life. Boston was cold and uninspiring. And I'm sure that even here in the beautiful countryside that Austin grew restless as well. With the two of you reunited it was like the breakup never even happened. No time was lost. The specifics of how you two would logistically work out was something you didn't even think about. That was for another time.

While you were eating your meal of scrambled eggs, toast with jam, and bacon galore you dragged your chair over to Austin's spot across the large dining table, closing the distance for good. And he smiled contently. His hand made permanent residence on your bare thigh, stroking lazy circles on your flesh as you ate to your hearts content.

The two of you would eventually clean up the kitchen and settle on listening to some music in the living room. Record after record of lovey-dovey old-timey songs from years past was spinning on the needle, and the two of you reveled in each others embrace as Austin pulled you in for a slow dance that seemed to never stop - only when necessary to change sides of the record and put on a new one. Your head was nestled on his chest, one of your hands wrapped around his back and your other hand clasped gently with his. Austin lovingly held onto your waist, pulling your frame into his. You two danced for what felt like hours, occasionally murmuring i love you's and delicate kisses passed from his lips to yours. Your hearts fluttered. It was perfection.

The following day you woke up in Austin's arms in bed, naked as per usual. After last night's makeup sex, Austin took his time in properly lavishing your body as he made love to you like a woman deserves to be. And you too gave to him what any man craves from his woman who loves him so passionately.

It wasn't easy to leave his bed on this fateful morning, you wanted to stay there forever. Today was the last day of your trip. And you felt forlorn. It was as if your heartstrings were ripping apart thinking about going back to the chilly Boston city, miles away from your beloved.

You had a booked flight out of Atlanta for 1pm, it was the only one they had available on short notice, so you took it. You had to be back to work and your mundane boring life on the east coast. You took an extra long time to get your clothes on and your things packed. And Austin hung around you like a lost puppy dog. Every chance he got, he'd reach out to touch you in simple ways, like catching the fabric of your skirt between his fingers as you walked by him in the hallway. Or his arm would brush up against yours on purpose. He didn't want you to leave either. Austin made you one last delicious breakfast of your favorite things that he knew you loved. It was bittersweet to sit at the table beside him knowing you'd have to go. The two of you just sat in silence as the noises of your chewing mouths filled the room.

Unfortunately, the time was nearing for your departure. With your suitcase in tow Austin walks you out onto the porch. He leans against the doorframe like he did the first time you saw him only 3 days ago. With a lump in your throat, you place your bag down on the ground and wrap your arms around him, hugging him close. You commit to memory every little detail about him - what he smelled like, what his facial hair felt like against your face, and the warmth of his arms as he held you to his warm body. And he jotted down things in his mind as well about you. He clung onto your waist tightly, cherishing this moment before the sweet sorrow of his girl gone and out of his embrace became too real to bare.

You pulled back a little and looked him over from head to toe. One thing you wanted to remember was his handsome face that you know you'll long for every day. His azure eyes were glassy, and one solitary tear spilled from the red rims. You pouted seeing him get emotional, and held his face in your hands. Your thumb brushed away the fallen salty tear.

"Never forget that I love you, Austin." You say softly with tears in your eyes too.

He sighed. "Oh believe me, I won't. I'll be thinking about these last few days spent with you here until I can hold you again." His hands cupped your face as he brought you in for one last passionate kiss that was overflowing with love, vulnerability, hope, desperation, all of it. You both wanted this to last, and you relished in the sensation of his plush velvet mouth on yours.

After sometime you both reluctantly pull away, panting. You let a tear run down your face, unable to keep it together anymore. Austin kissed your forehead delicately, wiping them away. "I love you to the moon and back."

You nodded and smiled, sniffling your tears away and swallowing your sadness. Your let your hands linger on his chest as you ran them slowly up to his shoulders and down both arms before tangling your fingers with his.

You pulled him away from the door and with one hand you grabbed your bag. While still holding hands with Austin with the other, he walks you over to your car parked on the side of the house. He helps you by taking your bag and placing it in the trunk before he opens the drivers side door and ushers you in with his hand, helping you into the vehicle.

You close the door and roll the window down so you can kiss him one final time. The lingering taste of orange juice from breakfast and the saltiness of both your tears is oddly comforting. You breathe in him, and he makes sure to let your floral perfume walk around in his mind for as long as he can. With a wet pop he releases your rosy lips. A warm smile spread across his face as he looked you over once more.

"I'll be seeing you." Austin spoke assuredly.

You smiled too, and nodded. "Yeah." You put the key in the ignition and turn, starting the engine. You put the gear shifter in drive and before you put your foot on the gas you blew him one last kiss.

Austin watched as you drove off with a heavy heart. He brought the pads of his fingers to his lips and blew you a farewell kiss back as you looked into the rearview mirror on your way out to get one more glance at your man. He placed his hand over his aching chest, missing you already and you weren't even gone.

This was not the end though, not even far from it.

You've only just begun.

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