#I remember at the end of our relationship we were fighting and he said something to me essentially to the effect of

[eyecide]

Rather unsurprisingly I have not actually been stress vomiting, at All since mr “guilt tripped me into letting him basically cheat on me with other people online, chronically unemployed, lived in literally filth BY CHOICE, checked himself into the psych ward bc I needed space from the constant fighting for a few weeks, treated me like an object constantly and barely even tolerated being around me if we didn’t fuck but somehow was so convinced he was The Good Boyfriend” and I broke up

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[cutielando]

we can't be friends, part 3 | l.n.

synopsis: in which he finally confesses

part 1 part 2

my masterlist

Lando had never felt as confused and at a loss as he did in the days following the kiss you had shared. 

There was this gnawing feeling that wouldn’t leave him alone, a feeling telling him that he was an awful human being for continuing to deceive you, to lie to you about the past that you two shared and the history between you two. Hiding what happened between the two of you, the deep-rooted pain that he had caused you that had been so hurtful that you had to wipe away every single memory that you had made with him.

He knew that he had got a new chance to love you, to do things right this time around, but was he starting fresh by lying to you from the very first time you bumped into each other again? Was he any better than the first time around?

He had been battling with his thoughts for a good couple of days, trying to avoid having contact with you as much as possible so he wouldn’t be distracted.

You didn’t know how to feel when Lando suddenly started interacting with you less and less as the days went by. Your brain had started overthinking everything you had done the last time you had seen each other, trying to come up with answers about what you did that scared him off.

You came up with no answer.

And yet, the feeling of something being wrong never left your gut. You had had this feeling ever since you and Lando bumped into each other in the paddock. The sense that somehow, you knew him better than you imagined, that there was something more to the two of you than just randomly bumping into each other.

You couldn't shake the feeling over the course of the time you spent together. Your body and mind felt at ease whenever you were around him, like they had known and felt his presence a thousand times already.

The first time you and Lando had seen each other ever since the ghosting period you had been forced into was a week and a half later, when he had called you over to his place to ‘have a talk about everything.’ Deep down in your gut, you knew there was something more to just having a talk, but you went either way, eager to get some answers.

When you arrived at his place and entered the apartment, there was a momentary tension in the air between the two of you.

You awkwardly stood by the entrance door to the living room, Lando sat on the sofa fondling with his hands in his lap.

“Please, take a seat” he motioned, clearing his throat.

You gave him a small smile and sat next to him, keeping a distance between the two of you. Lando noticed that, but chose not to say anything for the time being.

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked, cutting straight to the chase.

The suspense had been killing you the entire ride to his apartment, you couldn’t wait any longer to find out why he had called you over.

“Right” he cleared his throat again. “Look, before this goes any further, I thought long and hard about this and decided you should know the truth before anything else happens” he started, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“What truth? What’s going on?” you shuffled closer to him, your knees now touching.

“You see, this isn’t the first time we’ve met” he said, making you feel even more confused. “We were together, a couple of years ago”

“Excuse me? You and I? Together? That’s not possible” you argued, now once again shifting further away from him.

“I know it sounds impossible, but just bear with me. We were together in the past, and we were very happy too, until I screwed things up. I started putting my career and friends above our relationship, we didn’t spend as much time together as we used to, we started fighting a whole lot when we did find time to be in the same room as each other. We were miserable because of me at the end” he said, hanging his head low.

You shook your head, your mind trying to wrap around the information you had just heard. It was just not possible, was it? You didn’t remember anything that he was saying, so how could you forget something like that?

“I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate, but this is insane. You realize that, right?” you said, standing up and pacing around the room.

“I know. We broke up after I forgot the anniversary dinner plans we had made weeks in advance. I remember the moment as if it were yesterday, the hurt in your eyes still haunts me to this day. You cut off all contact with me and a couple of months after, your sister told me that you had got a procedure done to wipe your memories of our relationship and me”

You stopped in your tracks, your eyes wide. All of those times that your gut told you that you knew this man, that you had been with him before somehow, it all made sense now. You wiped your memories of him, but your body couldn’t deny the effect that he had on you still.

“I know you hate me right now, and rightfully so. The moment I saw you those months ago in the paddock felt like the universe had finally given me a chance to start over, to do better this time. I would never, ever even dream about hurting you again like I did the first time around. You deserve so much better than that and I want to give you the world. I decided to tell you this so we wouldn’t start anything based on a lie”

You bit your lip, turning back to look at him.

The look in his eyes, so desperate for you to say something to him, was the most sincere one you had ever seen. Your brain was telling you to get the hell out, run away and forget about ever starting anything with the man that had hurt you once. But your heart was doing the exact opposite: what if you two meeting again was indeed a sign? A sign that you were meant to try again, give it one more shot?

You didn’t know what to do.

Your mind and your heart were waging a war inside of you, and Lando could see the turmoil behind your eyes. He knew he had just ambushed you with so much information that you had to comprehend, and he wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to do with him from that point onwards.

“Can I have some time to think it through before I make a decision?” you asked, looking at him.

He nodded immediately, getting up to stand in front of you.

“Take all the time you need. No matter the decision you decide to take, I’m going to respect it” his words made you smile sadly and nod. 

You placed a kiss on his cheek as you made your way towards the front door, leaving the apartment and a broken Lando behind.

Lando felt like a weight had been lifted off his chest, but another one, even heavier, had taken its place. He knew, deep down, that he had just done the right thing for the both of you. Then why did it feel so wrong? Why did it feel like he just killed your relationship for good?

Sighing, he couldn’t do anything else other than wait for you, make sure to give you space and hope that you decide he’s not a total creep and he’s worth your time.

Your thoughts were scattered all over the place as you walked through the streets to your apartment. The information you had just been fed swirling around in your mind at lightning speed. You didn’t know what you were supposed to believe, what you were supposed to think of the whole situation.

Does Lando deserve a second chance? Has he really changed as much as he says? Or had he just jumped at the chance to use you and the fact that your memory was altered to weasel his way into your life again? 

Was getting in bed with him after what he had done dangerous?

Maybe.

But something deep inside of you was telling you that maybe, just maybe, this is how things were supposed to happen.

You had been so deep in thought that you didn’t realize where you were. You were expecting to find yourself in front of your apartment building, ready to think about it and have a good night’s sleep.

And yet, your feet had had a mind of their own. Only explanation as to why you stood, once again, in front of Lando’s apartment door. Deep down, despite all of the things that you thought you had to think about, your heart had already decided for you. 

Knocking on the door, you didn’t need to wait for too long before Lando opened the door, standing there with a confused expression.

“Y/N?” he asked as he watched you enter the apartment, closing the front door behind him.

“I know I said I needed some time to think everything through, but the truth is I don’t need time. I don’t remember anything about us before, and I don’t want to remember. Us meeting and reconnecting again shows me that we’re supposed to try this out one more time. Forget about the past and turn over a new leaf” you explained, watching the stress leaving his shoulder and his frown turn into a smile. 

Lando let out a sigh of relief as he listened to you, his plagued mind finally being set free. He didn’t know what to say to you, so he did the next best thing he knew.

He closed the gap between the two of you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you as if his life depended on it, having been deprived of your touch for way too long. 

You gasped, the feeling of his lips on yours sending shocks all throughout your body. He felt so good, his lips on yours feeling like they were made for each other, like two pieces of a puzzle.

And then, you knew, in your heart, that you had made the right decision.

Right?

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[readychilledwine]

Small World Pt 2

Summary - After discovering you and Azriel share much more than a mating bond, your relationship grows stronger as tensions between you and your aunt seem to grow higher.

Warnings - implied emotional and mental abuse, second child syndrome in a not good way, we find out Nyx is an asshole, unrequited love, slight smut, use of daddy

A/n - a potentially cliff hanger ending because I haven't decided 100% how this ends

Peep Part 1 Here 💙

Azriel stared at the dress box sitting on Rhysand's desk and nicely folded Illyrian leathers. He couldn't remember the last time he had worn them. The last time he had used a siphon. The leathers were fitted for 7, something Azriel immediately knew would no longer work.

His powers after removing the precious stones had gone wild. His shadows were different now. They were more aware, able to span wider distances, and able to recruit more shadows into his network to join them.

He had spent 5 years alone meditating and learning even more control over them, over what they could do, over how deadly they actually could be.

7 siphons would not be enough.

And he didn't understand how Rhysand did not see that.

He finally spoke, gesturing to the box. "What is this?"

Rhys was settled in his chair, trying to maintain his composure as Cassian stood near the bookshelf to mediate if needed. "We're going to the Court of Nightmares. My daughter's engagement has spread like wildfire, and dear Keir wants to host a party in her honor."

A breathy chuckle left Azriel's lips before he could stop it. "So my fiancée will be dressed like a goddess while I am in leathers at a party to mock us?"

Cassian shifted slightly. "We've always worn leathers to Hewn City, Az. It's to honor our heritage." Rhys just inclined his head to Cassian and nodded. "Y/n wears leathers."

"She has never worn a single set in the 2 years we've been together. There isn't even a set in her closet."

"There's several sets in her closet here," Rhys said quietly. "All set up for pink siphons. 14 of them." Cassian and Azriel couldn't help their chuckles. "Imagine a blonde Illyrian with pink siphons, Azriel, its quite the sight." Rhys smiled fondly, eyes glimmering with pride despite everything. "She's-" he looked up, searching for the perfect word for his daughter. "She's my everything. And I've done a horrible job showing her that."

Azriel sucked in a deep breath. "I won't mediate this, Rhys. This is a you two thing. Not an us three thing."

Azriel knew now why you were estranged from your family. Nyx was their golden child. Constantly praised, admired, in the spotlight. He was, and still is, their reminder of how they had almost died to pass along their love. He could do no wrong, never be wrong, and was treated as such.

You, on the other hand, were the second child. The significantly younger one Nyx learned to plant blame on and watch as you were scolded and seen as "the problem" as you had told him you were now addressed as in Hewn City and Illyria. You had been raised by Ness more than Feyre and Rhys, passed off to them until your powers bloomed at 16, and suddenly your father found you interesting again. With a lack of a spymaster, he exploited you, forcing you to touch people and feel their emotions, when they lied, their stories. Forcing you to live trauma over and over of females clipped in the mountains, of tortured traitors in dungeons, of Nesta's dark phase.

You locked your powers so far away one day, so deep inside you that even you hardly could access them unless you actually wanted to. It had been just before your 18th birthday that happened. And then the fight that sealed the casket happened. Rhys had verbally lashed you. Attacked you for refusing to let him use your "one worth" to keeping his family and court safe.

Your father had said he saw you as useless, and everyone else just stood by watching.

Like they had with Nesta.

Only you were just a child. Not a head strong warrior, a goddess in fae form.

You packed the basics and spent the night on the streets in a dark alley.

Even if you and Rhys magically fixed things, even if you forgave but not forgot, Azriel would never. How you were raised, how you've been treated, it forever will taint his vision of Rhys, Feyre, and Nyx. The abuse they unleashed on you, they'd never make up for.

Rhys nodded, eyes glancing to the doorway as footsteps approached. "I would never ask you to fix my relationship with her when I need to fix my relationship with you as well. I just need you to know I love her. That she will always be my girl."

"You have an odd way of showing her your lo-"

The door opened, and you stepped in, immediately going to Azriel's side and eyeing the box. "Dad. Cassian." You opened the lid and nodded. "Well. At least it's sparkly."

Rhys cocked his head. "You don't like it?"

Azriel watched as you paused. The bond flared with conflicting emotions. Anger, hurt, longing. How long had it been since Rhys held you? Since he told you he loved you without you having to earn it. "No, I like it. I just know what this means. You never give me nice things unless Hewn City is involved." The last sentence trailed off quietly, and pain flooded the bond.

Rhys looked down, nodding as he scratched the stubble growing on his face. "I am sorry. I just-"

"Please don't. You never mean it." You grabbed the box. "I will wear it and find jewelry." You turned to Azriel. "Elain would like to speak with you. She said something about a garden you two planned together and how I'll never understand the love you two share. How it breaks bonds and shakes worlds."

The relationship between you and Azriel had been messy since dinner two weeks ago. You two had your first fight over, of course, Elain and her rekindled love, lust, whichever felt appropriate at the moment for Azriel. He ignored the constant letters, the random headache powders, the message coded flowers.

He had reached out to Lucien, asking the male what had happened. According to the new Lord of Day, Elain and he had tried for 5 years, but the damage had been done. Lucien didn't trust Elain, Elain spent most of their time comparing the two of them, and nothing Lucien gave her was enough. He had been the one to reject the bond, and after 7 years, he had found himself heavily involved in a relationship with a now fully fae Vassa and Jurian.

Rhys and Cassian both gave him gentle looks of concern as he held your hand, preventing you from walking away. He stared Rhys in the eyes, doing something he felt Rhysand had never done to prove a point. "I'd rather go home with you, so if you were planning on winnowing, we might as well go together." He picked you.

They watched as all tension left your body, as security eased into your face. "Then let's go home." Azriel grabbed the leathers, nodding to Rhys and Cassian before following you.

Azriel's elbow locked around your neck, hand squeezing your hip as he pinned you below him and continued taking you from behind. You both had no interest in heading to Hewn City, so you had distracted him, walking into your shared bedroom in just a pretty blue silk night gown offering to give your body to him for what he had done, the message he had sent.

You were supposed to be getting ready, but instead, Azriel was growling above you, pumping into you carelessly. Your toes curled at how deep he was hitting, at how good he felt, how good he felt every time. "So close," you whispered. "So fucking close-" You were moaning his name when the knock on the door came.

A shadow rushed to him, curling his ear as he paused. "It's Elain," he muttered. "She's relentless." You whined below him, hips wiggling to get friction back. "Baby,"

"Please," you begged. "It's been weeks, I've been so good, please, daddy."

Azriel felt his cock twitch at the use of the name. He'd longed for a moment to erase the memory of what happened, and you had just given it to him. He felt you moving your hips, doing the best you could while pinned to the mattress to fuck yourself on his cock.

You were his focus, the rest of the world melting away as he heard your moans turning into screams of his name. You sounded so pretty coming for him, crying for him, begging for more for less for everything as oversensitivity took over. You especially looked pretty dripping his seed when he pulled out of you. Once again, he had chosen you.

You two laid there, holding each other until claws came for both of you. Scratching angerly as your mental shields and causing you to bury your head into Azriel's chest. "We need to get ready unless you want him showing up here next," Azriel played with your hair, scratching your scalp lightly. "Let's see how many siphons I blow through."

After 2 sets of siphons being destroyed, you were currently dragging Azriel down the streets of Velaris and to your brother and father's tailor. You knew she'd be able to fit and dress him in seconds and that he'd look every bit handsome as he deserved. You were pissed when you saw he had been gifted Illyrian leathers and not a suit. Your father was out of touch with Azriel. With you.

"Helena," you smiled at the older female. "We need help."

Azriel felt stiff. Staring at the doors of Heen City as a shocked page boy ran to inform Rhys and Feyre of the late arrival. You two were about to upstage them in their own court. The guests of honor arriving late and being introduced after the Lord and his Lady.

You would have upstaged them by yourself anyway, though. Azriel admired you one more time. Rhys had picked well, though you both would never admit it. The dress had a see-through bodice of black lace and floral applicates with thin straps. It led to a satin skirt that was tight and then flared out to your hips. The left leg had a high slit, showing the toned beautiful skin Azriel was begging to cover in his kisses. You had picked a simple necklace, a single tear drop shaped sapphire with matching earring and a matching bracelet. Your ring sat on manicured nails painted a soft shade of pink to white coffin head tips. Heels graced your feet, the red underside flashing when you walked. "Gods, you are stunning," he finally whispered out in a hoarse voice.

"And all yours," you looked at him, adjusting the lapel of his jacket. "Forever." Your mask slipped on as the doors opened, a collective gasp ringing through the room over who was on your arm followed by whispers.

Azriel knew this song and dance, walking you into one thousand eyes staring and gawking. He hated seeing you like this as you were ushered to the dance floor. The first dance of the night had been delayed, and the fae were restless.

Once you were centered on the floor, you turned facing him, eyes cold and distant as you disassociated from this place. He placed a hand on your hip, leaving his other to his side where both of your sat.

It was unfair of Feyre and Rhysand to expect you to do this traditional waltz, but you followed Azriel's steps as the music began, that first note echoing in your bones and soul. Your parents had claimed your first dance with your mate. The first true dance you two would ever share, and it had to be done in front of hundreds of fae who spat your direction when the Lord and Lady were busy.

Azriel had decided he hated this side of you. He was studying you like a project. You were a different female down here. Cold, uncaring, forced into this role of the High Lord's daughter.

Did these fae know you took far too much creamer in your coffee?

That you were afraid of storms?

That you only ate fruit pastries because you found chocolate too bitter?

You were Rhysand through and through with that mask on. But inside, inside Azriel knew you carried the very light of what your grandfather built. You were a true dreamer, and you could rattle the very stars themselves if your father would just give you the chance.

If Rhysand would just believe in you.

Azriel decided in that moment what the answer to your happiness was. He'd take you tonight and you two would leave.

Fuck expectations.

Fuck the rules.

Fuck your family.

Azriel would pick you for the third time today, and you two would leave.

He just had to get you through this visit at Hewn City first, and as he watched Elain shatter a champagne flute in her hands, he knew that was going to be a mission all on its own.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish

Azriel-

@elle4404

Small World Taglist-

@amara-moonlight @iimichie @acourtofbatboydreams @justasillylittlegoofyguy @janesalvarerelochanarcheron @hungryforbatboys @sidthedollface2 @hunt1bryce

[natailiatulls07]

Stay

Lando Norris x female!reader

Summary - Everyone knew about Y/n and Landos toxic relationship, so when they broke up it was easy right?

Warning - cheating, swearing, toxic relationship and ANGST lol

A/n - 'It's okay Pt.2' is on it's way don't worry <3

Sort of based around this song

-

Anyone with a pair of eyes and common sense could see how toxic the relationship between McLaren driver, Lando Norris and model, Y/n L/n was. Espercially those close to the couple.

Each were spotted flirting with other people shamelessly. Everyone was sure that each had affairs. Yet both would return to eachothers arms the next day.

-

"Mate..." Oscar muttered. He, Lando, Carlos and Logan were all at Oscars place, hanging out when he brought up the relationship. "When are you going to end your relationship?"

The night before every formula one and non formula one gossip page had three names rolling off their tongues. Y/n L/n and Lando Norris and...

Jacob Elordi

Y/n was seen kissing and flirting with Jacob in public. Every gossip page had pictures of the kiss plastured across their feed, hundreds of headlining articles and for you pages filled. "Well actually she broke it off...last night before she went out, we're over..." Lando muttered, looking down at his beer.

Surprise captured their faces, before it was replaced with relief. "Oh I bet that was quick and easy, a mutual agreement" Carlos laughs, Oscar and Logan agreeing with him.

British driver awkwardly chuckles, remembering the night before. "Yeah...quick and easy..."

~

"Y/n come on! I said I was sorry!" His voice echos through their apartment. Lando and Y/n had gotten into yet another fight, thing is this time it felt more intense than usual.

Y/n shakes her head rapidly. "No no Lando, you fucking insinuated to the press that I'm a slut!" She was annoyed, he had just humiliated his own girlfriend to millions. "I can't do this."

All sound stopped, their heavy footsteps stopped and silence filled the space between them. Lando's expression morphed into a look of concern and worry. "What do you mean? Y/n what are you saying?"

He continues to look into her eyes, but Y/ns eyes flicker anywhere but his. Taking a deep breath. "I can't Lando" She started to shake her head. "This relationship, it...it doesn't work"

It felt like someone was stealing the air out of his lungs, Lando felt like he was been suffocated. "No Y/n, stop no" He was pleading with her.

"Maybe we should break off our relationship...it's too toxic, anyone can see it" Salty tears clouded the eyes of both. They both knew this couldn't go on but in a weird way, neither of them wanted to end it.

Lando felt himself fall to his knees. He never considered himself to be the type, but something possessed him. "Please." Eyes pleading and desperate. "Stay."

With a shaky breath and a frantic shake of her head. Y/n couldn't believe what was happening, couldn't believe how Lando was begging her to stay with him.

The driver continued. "I want you Y/n, I need you..." No longer was Y/ns eyes frantically avoiding his eyes. They were locked on eachother.

Neither had the heart to speak, both heavily weighed down with hesitation.

~

There was a laugh. "Oh my god! At least you didn't beg on your knees, that would be a low blow to your ego" Logans voice laughed. This was quickly followed by chuckles and nodding from Carlos and Oscar.

Landos fake smile fleeted slightly, his eyes dropped to the beer in his hand. "No...couldn't do that to my ego..." Chuckling softly. He felt a hand pat him on the back.

"Good lad..." Carlos' spanish loud accent filled the room above the laugh. Non of them noticing Landos slight absence from the moment.

It was Oscars turning to speak up. "Better off without her" All he got in return was a slow nod, lights on but no ones home. Was he really better off without her.

-

[redstarwriting]

his girl | x. talkin’ bout my girl

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader | miles morales x fem!reader

word count: 2k

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: language, spoilers (!!!), more fluff, mentions of severe injuries, bad Spanish probably, so much multiverse shit

a/n: and that’s a wrap on another spiderverse series! wild. big thank you to everyone who read and supported the story! it was fun to write, and sorry for all the major plot twists and turns i threw in there i’m a little unhinged sometimes LMAO but in all seriousness, i hope you enjoy this last chapter🖤

his girl masterlist

previous chapter: ix. i’ve got sunshine

now reading: x. talkin’ bout my girl

end.

───────────────────────────────

You and Miles are back to being inseparable. And both you and him have never been happier. Rio is relieved, and so happy that the two of you are no longer just best friends, but partners. Jefferson feels the same way and is even more relieved that you know and are there for him as Spider-Man on top of it all. His parents missed having you around the house for a while, so they’re more than happy that you’re around basically all the time. Ganke sort of hates it because the two of you can be all lovey-dovey in front of him, but also doesn’t because you join in with him to make fun of Miles for being an idiot. Something the two of you agreed on was to never tell anyone else you were Black Cat. It could be too dangerous for you, and Miles doesn’t exactly like the thought of you going to jail for stealing.

What he does like is you’re sneaky enough to follow him into Spider Society when he goes. Sometimes he lets you sneak in with him. The first time, though, he was completely unaware you followed him. And when you popped up behind him, mask on, Miguel almost had an aneurysm.

“Why is there a Black Cat here?!” he yelled, and Miles, who didn’t even know you were there until Miguel said that, put his arm around you protectively. “Because she’s my girlfriend. And she is really good at following me without setting my sense off. We got a problem or something?”

“Yes, Miles, we do. Black Cats can’t be–”

“Remember that time you told me I shouldn’t exist? I remember that.”

“He told you that?” you feign ignorance. You know everything Miguel did to Miles, and you hate him because of that. But you pretend you don’t know because it gives you an excuse to look shocked and make him feel bad instead of your real feelings of being ready to fight him right now. And Miguel actually falls for it. “I NEVER–” he begins to protest, but cuts himself off with a sigh, shaking his head and muttering some things in Spanish. “If you do anything…” he points at you, and your mask fades away as you narrow your eyes at him. “You wouldn’t know if I did,” you say, and he groans. “Black Cats. Always the same,” he mutters, turning around and walking away.

From that point on, if you didn’t have anything to do, you would accompany Miles to Spider Society. And today was one of those days. The two of you are walking hand in hand when Gwen lands next to the two of you. “Hey lovebirds,” she says, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Hey, Gwen,” you say, and she joins the two of you. “What are you two up to today?” “Nothing, really. Actually, was gonna ask you, Pav, and Hobie if y’all had anything to do," Miles says and Gwen sighs. “Yeah, actually, Hobie and Pav are on a mission right now. And I have a father-daughter day planned with my dad so we can try to mend our relationship after he, y’know, threatened to arrest me and pulled a gun on me,” Gwen says, and you both nod, making noises of disgust and agreement. “Yeah, probably for the best you don’t miss that,” you say, and she nods. “Yeah. Oh! And then I someone you know might have a date with Mary Jane later,” Gwen says, and you stop walking, turning to her and grabbing her shoulders. “Are you for real?!”

“Yes! I finally asked her, and she said yes!” The two of you do The little teenage girl excited jump up and down action, and Miles grins. “Happy for you, Gwen, but can you please give me my girlfriend back, my hand is cold,” he says, motioning to the hand you abandoned to talk to Gwen. You and Gwen look at each other, rolling your eyes as you slip your hand back into his. Gwen glances at her watch. “Fine, I have to go anyways. Oh, I’ll see you two tomorrow at Hobie’s, right?”

“You know it,” Miles says, and she grins. “Great! Well, see you two later!” Gwen says, opening up a portal to her world and stepping through. You look at Miles. “So, what do you wanna do now?” you ask, and he shrugs. “Guess it’s just gonna be us hanging out. How tragic,” Miles says with a small smile on his face, and you shake your head. “Maybe I should see if there’s any museum or rich person I can steal from,” you tease, and he rolls his eyes. “Ha. Ha,” he says, and you squeeze his hand. The two of you make your way to one of the common rooms, but before you can even sit down you hear someone call out Miles’ name.

You both turn your heads in the direction it came from and a new Spider-Woman lands beside the two of you. She takes her mask off, and your eyes get big. It’s you. “(Y/n)? like Earth 42, (Y/n)?” he asks, and you nod. “Yeah! This is weird, right? I think it’s a little weird.”

“Uh, what’s weird is you’re me,” you say, pointing at you. “Oh! You fixed it!” 42 you says, high-fiving Miles. “I told you it’s weird, didn’t I?” Miles asks you, and you nod. He’d told you about how he was sent to an alternate universe with no Spider-Man and how he met himself there. And in doing so, met the you of that world, too. Now you’re looking at her… but he never mentioned she was Spider-Woman. But you gather he  also didn’t know she was Spider-Woman by the way he motions to her suit. “When did… this happen?”

“The day you arrived and then promptly left, actually,” you say, “so about two weeks ago. You remember how Miles and Aaron went to Alchemax? Yeah, well, apparently they were developing a new spider similar to the spider that bit you, and it crawled into Miles’ duffle bag he had. He and I were sleeping in his room, and it crawled out, and he got up to go get water or something and it crawled over to me and bit me. Found it the next morning.”

“Oh? And you’re already here?” Miles asks, and you nod. “After we realized, which, by the way, absolutely fucking wild. You can heal overnight? That caught everyone off guard. Ms. Morales thought she was the next coming of Jesus Christ for a second, but anyway, after we figured out I had similar abilities to you, that Miguel dude showed up and offered me one of these little watches. He said he was happy this world had a Spider-Person now, but when he saw Miles, he did a whole ass double take and then muttered how he ‘can’t escape this kid’ in Spanish. Miles, of course, responded also in Spanish, and then he looked stressed and just left,” you explain, and Miles laughs. Even when he wasn’t around, he was plaguing Miguel with his existence in multiple universes. “Yeah, sorry for not warning you but he hates me.”

“We picked up on that,” you say, and then you look over at you. “Okay. time for me to be weirded out, why do I have an outfit that looks like Miles’ Prowler outfit?” you ask, and you shrug. “I’m Black Cat.”

“Also, she and Miles of your world are insanely intelligent engineers, inventors, and designers. Looks like they think the same way, too,” Miles says, wrapping his arm around you and looking at you proudly. “Oh! Do you wanna go see him? I told him the first thing I’d do is look for you and make sure you didn’t fuck up with me. And! The two of us have started to fix up New York! I’m sure he’d be happy to see you,” 42 you says, starting to fiddle with her watch. “Hell yeah! Totally, you okay with that, amor?”

“Of course. I’d like to meet this other Miles, maybe exchange some engineering ideas if his suit seems half as cool as you hyped it up to be,” you say, and 42 you grins to herself. You knew that he’d be able to figure it out, but it’s still so nice and refreshing seeing the Miles who was so distracted and in his head genuinely looking and feeling better with you by his side. The portal pulls up, and you motion the two of you to follow. You do, and end up in what looks exactly like Miles’ room, except instead of art supplies and sketches of Spider-Man stuff, it’s more geared towards technology and sketches for gauntlets. Of course, there’s now a mix of that with Spider-Woman sketches and ideas, but the other Miles’ blueprints and designed are what catch your eye immediately. They look very similar to yours, and you can’t help but read some of the notes on the pages. “Vibranium? Where the fuck did he get vibranium…” you mumble to yourself, and 42 you looks at the both of you. “Ms. Morales isn’t home, so we can be as vocal about our identities as we like. She does know about me, but not Miles still. Figured it would be fine for her to know about my shit but Miles is a little more… complicated,” you say, opening the door. 42 Miles turns his head. “Ay, ma, who you talking to?”

“Miles,” you say, motioning that 1610 Miles is back. “Que pasa, hermano?” 1610 Miles asks, and he and Miles dap each other up. You wave, and 42 Miles smiles at you. “Hola, preciosa,” he says, winking at you. Your Miles wraps his arm around you. “Woah, there, bro, that (Y/n) might is your girl. This (Y/n) is my girl” he says, kissing your temple. You smile a bit, and 42 Miles puts his hands up in surrender. “I may be your girl, but I do wanna talk to you,” you point at 42 Miles, “about the notes about a vibranium gauntlet design. Where the hell are you getting vibranium and how does it react with the PVC piping you used to on the fingers?” 1610 Miles shakes his head, and 42 Miles smirks. “You get it?” he asks, and you nod. “Oh, I get it. Now explain.”

“Ella lo consigue,” he says, turning to his (Y/n) who rolls her eyes. “Got the vibranium from a job about a week ago, no one was using it, so,” he shrugs, “decided it belonged to me.”

“Where?”

“Avengers Tower.”

“Shut up. How hard are their security systems?”

“Hard if you ain’t smart,” he says, and you nod. “Should be simple then.”

“Stop… stop planning on breaking into Avengers Tower in front of me, amor,” 1610 Miles says, and 42 you sigh. “Yeah, babe, same here. You know I’m gonna have to stop people from doing that shit now,” you mumble, as both 1610 you and 42 Miles roll your eyes. “It’s my job,” 1610 you and 42 Miles say at the same time. “It’s ours too!” 1610 Miles and 42 you say before Miles processes that the Avengers are on your Earth. “Wait, you have the Avengers here?” Miles asks 42 (Y/n), and you nod. “Yeah.”

“Why haven’t they fixed New York?”

“Oh, do your Avengers care unless it’s a world-ending event? What’s that like?” you ask him, and he scoffs. “That… is actually very correct. They are totally not like that,” Miles says, and you sigh. “This Spider-Woman shit is a lot of responsibility.”

“I hear that,” Miles grumbles, as the two of them watch 1610 you and 42 Miles discussing their tactics on how they break into places and comparing gadgets. Miles can’t help but think that it’s funny how ending up in the wrong universe gave him some new friends and helped him get the girl who has always been the girl he wanted, even if he was a little slow with it. But it also caused him so much distress, almost made him die, and showed him an alternate reality of how his life may have ended up.

Man, this multiverse shit is confusing.  

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『 his girl tag list 』

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『 itsv/atsv tag list 』

@1eonk @autismnation @briannaxox @em711​ @februarybluues​ @fennecspage* @fiannee​ @hearts4hobie​ @kitsunna4​ @lovefks​ @luvvrgirll​ @mintkookiess​ @parkerpresentz​ @peyingbills* @smuuchies* @soseoulol​ @stoic0utlaws​ @swaqlover* @tes-conscience​ @zombie-catz​

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you wish to be on either tag list, reach out and let me know! thank you to everyone for the support!🖤

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[formyloveoflove]

The Bear S3 and the Choices We Make

Ok. After a second watch of S3, I'm feeling a little bit more optimistic about the future. Trust - it's a sad ending. It's my worst nightmare for Sydney. But there's still hope, and that all lies in what Carmen and Syd decide to do next. Season 3 Spoilers - read at your own risk :)

In S3 E10 Forever, we see our two mains go through a breakthrough. Starting with Carmen, he finally confronts his former boss (who has a name, i think, but fuck him, I ain't using it). It's the first (and only time) that we see Carmen proactively voice his resentment. He avoids his mom (rightfully so imo). He never got the chance with Mikey. But he approaches him, expects the man to have repent (maybe), or at the very least, have a little remorse.

He doesn't. He regrets nothing. In fact, he takes credit for Carmen's success: his hard work, his skills, and his talent. He tells Carmen that he should be thanking him, and that's not even the worst of it. No, for me, it is when he says

Carmen: My life stopped. Chef: That's the point, right? [...] You wanted to be great. You wanted to be excellent. So you got rid of all the bullshit, and you concentrated, and you got focused, and you got great. You got excellent. It worked. You're here. Look at all this

Sound familiar? It should. It's the same sentiment that Carmen said in the Season 2 finale. Remember, he said,

I wasn't here. Right? What the fuck was I thinking? Like I was going to be in a relationship? I'm a fuckin' pyscho. That's why I'm good at what I do. That's how I operate. I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could focus, and I could concentrate.

Carmen's thoughts about himself aren't even his own. They were drilled into him by a man who wouldn't piss on him if he was on fire. He was emulating the abusive behaviors and patterns that crushed him, that gave him "uclers, panic attacks, and nightmares" on the people that he cares about. On his sister, on Richie, on Tina and Marcus. and especially on Sydney, who is the only one who knows exactly how bad it can get. He's hurt those closest to him. He hurts them daily. And for what? And for why? For his own ego.

And this realization leads us to Carmen's first cry.

For three whole seasons, we see this man lose his idolized brother to suicide, witness his alcoholic mother physically, emotionally, and mentally abuse him, and experience mental degradation to the point where it affects his physical health. Not once did he shed a tear. This is the first time Carmen Berzatto lets himself cry. And I think this is the best thing for him. If he chooses to acknowledge the err of his ways, turn back course, and begin again, I think The Bear could be what he wanted it to be. He needs to decide to stop running, stop fighting himself and everybody around him. He needs to let go. Let it rip, right?

However, if this is what he decides to do, the cards ultimately fall into Sydney's hands.

If anybody's been through hell and back, it's Ms. Sydney Adamu. All season she's been forced to work in a volatile environment, putting herself between Carmen and whoever's the victim of his anger. She has her ideas shut down, her skills demeaned, and her credit is outright non-existent. Staff keeps quitting; they're not making any money; and Cicero and Co. is doing some shady background shit.

She's trapped, but not really. Not until she signs that Partnership Agreement. But like she told her dad in S2 E9 Omelette, she doesn't think she has another one in her. She can't have The Bear fail like Sheridan Road. She doesn't want to make the same mistakes she did last time. She wants to grow and learn and make her mark on the industry - prove she's not a failure.

She's waiting for Carmen to make good on his promises from The Table Scene, but he's not.

"You deserve my full focus." But his focus is not on her. Remember the Carmen that noticed when something was off with her? Remember the "say more?" or the "what's up with you?" Remember when they worked together, when the menu was truly theirs? Where was Sydney's "margin" moment? What did Carmen do this scene that signaled to Sydney that he was there and present.

"I couldn't do this without you." He does everything without her. Don't even get me started. From the menu to the list of nonnegotiables. Syd gets to make no decisions after being forced to make ALL the decisions. What is she there for? To be Carm's wrangler, his doormat? What has he does to convince her that she is invaluable?

He's egotistical. He's verbally abusive. He's the exact person that she warned him not to be. That he assured her that he wouldn't be in S1 E3 Brigade. She said,

You know I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But, in order for that to be true, we need to run things different. [...] But you just didn't really listen, and if this is going to work the way I think we both want it to work, I think we should probably try to listen to each other. The reason why I'm here, and not somewhere else or for someone else, is because I think I can stand out here. I can make a difference here. We could share ideas. I could implement things that make this place better. And I don’t wanna be wasting my time, working on another line or tweezing herbs on a dish that I don’t care about.

He didn't follow through the first time, so she left. But now, it's different. She's put her blood, sweat, and tears into this place. She's made a place (a home even) at The Bear. Leaving is not as simple anymore.

S1 Syd would've taken that CDC offer in a heartbeat. But building something and it failing (like The Bear. like Sheridan Road.) is terrifying. Slowly but surely, Carmen has been chipping away at her confidence and her fire. So much so that good things, like The Offer or the review of her risotto from The Beef, don't feel like good things.

Sydney's Panic Attack is HUGE for her character. We see Sydney at her lowest: her most frightening and vulnerable. She's uncertain. She's in a constant state of panic. And the person that she trusted with her fears and insecurities facilitated this, drove her to this point. It's heartbreaking. I cried when I saw it. No one would blame her for jumping ship. At this point, I encourage it (but she has to talk about it, acknowledge it. no running).

Now, if Carmen decides to change his ways, he'd have apologized to Sydney twice without changed actions. She'd have to believe him after many, many broken promises. At this time, she doesn't trust him, can't rely on him. But when having to decide between staying or going, will she try to trust him again?

Will she? Should she?

That's where I'm at so far. I have more thoughts, but I'll write those out when I get back from my weekend trip.

[uravitypng]

𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing: best friend! eijiro kirishima x innocent chubby reader

word count: 1.3k words

"you know kiri i've never been kissed before," you tell him quietly when you're watching a kissing scene come on the tv.

kirishima thought he knew everything about you, he knew you were innocent and pure but he was sure you must have been kissed once, you were both well in your 20s at this point. "how?" kirishima asks matching your volume.

"well is it really that surprising? i've never been in a relationship or anything and i've never been to many parties to randomly kiss people. i'm not really a party person and whenever i do go to parties i stay with you the whole time and i don't drink at all." you lean your head against him and link your arm around his.

"i guess it's not that surprising..." he trails off at the end.

"yeah, plus i don't really know a lot of people and i'm pretty sure you scare people off. you're so big it probably freaks them out, thinking that you'll fight them or something," you say while giggling.

kirishima grins, he would never admit it but he has intentionally scared some people off. in his eyes they don't deserve you so he purposely increases your already physical friendship and touches you more so they know you're off limits or he purposely stands really close to them which makes them back away when they realise how huge he is and how if they got on his wrong side he could absolutely destroy them. because, in the end, you're too good for them, too pure and kind and wonderful and they don't deserve you.

"it's okay that you've never kissed anyone. you shouldn't kiss someone random, like if you're at a party and drunk or something. you should kiss someone you should trust," kirishima reassures you.

"like you?" if kirishima was in the middle of having a drink he would of spat it out. his back straightens, and his cheeks go red. his adorable best friend just cocking her head to the side and asking him such a loaded question so cutely.

"what- what do you mean?" he slightly stumbles over his words but you don't notice.

"well... who was your first kiss."

kirishima slightly deflates, he then realises of course you'd never ask a question like that to him. you don't think of him like that. you just want to know if his first kiss was special and with someone he trusted. "not quite, it was a dare when i was 11? or 12, maybe? i kissed mina, mina ashido. she was in our class when we were kids, you remember her right?"

you disliked that and you went sour, out of all people why did it have to be her, of course kirishima would like her, who wouldn't, she's everything you're not though and it reminds you how you'll forever be just his friend. she's an extrovert and extremely brave and thin and conventionally attractive, you're not.

kirishima notices the way your body shrinks in on yourself and how your expression has changed. "are you alright sweetheart?" you nod your head and hum, maybe to everyone else it would be convincing but not to him.

you don't know how you do it but you gather another confidence for just a second to ask him a question that you wanted to ask him originally a couple minutes ago. "i trust you." you look down, unable to look at him in eye or even his face.

"yeah, i trust you too," he replies cautiously unsure about what you're going on about.

"well...you said my first kiss should be with someone who i trust," you say while twiddling your fingers.

kirishima's mouth becomes suddenly dry as he now realises what you're talking about. "that would be very unmanly of me. i don't think you really want that sweetheart," he says reluctantly, he wants you to mean it but he thinks you don't.

as soon as you hear him you look up frantically because if he's being honest when he said that it means he didn't deny you or your request but denied that you actually wanted him. you grab hold of his arm and look him in the eye. "no, no that's not true! i want you!" kirishima's eyes widen at your raised voice and how you're shaking his arm, he can't help but grin at your reaction.

"alright sweetheart," he can never say no to you, he never wants to and now he'll actually be able to kiss you. to do the thing he's been dreaming about for years.

"holy shit, really?"

kirishima bursts out laughing. "yeah." you give him a soft smile and momentarily bury your head in his chest before looking up at him and giving him an even bigger smile.

"so um, what do we do?" you question shyly while kirishima grins at your cute naivety.

kirishima tucks some of the strands of your hair behind your ear, "you can close your eyes if you want. just close your eyes and relax, i'll do the rest." you mumble out an okay and flutter your eyes close.

kirishima gently holds your cheek in his hand and presses your foreheads together. you can feel his callus hands on your skin and it's making your face heat up at the contact. his other hand rests on the nape of your neck, keeping you both close to one another. he presses your lips together in a sweet kiss that makes you melt into him and it makes you both dizzy in the process. he can smell your pretty perfume and his shampoo is overwhelming your senses. he smiles against your lips and pulls you even closer.

your arms are stiff and slightly raised in the air and your fists are clenched, not knowing where to put your hands. as the kiss carries on you press your lips harder against his, wanting more. kirishima takes the hint and gently bites your bottom lip causing you to gasp. you're unsure of what to do but kirishima takes charge and you make out until you both have to break away for air before going in to kiss again.

he groans as you slip your tongue against his. "fuck," he groans roughly as he lifts you on his lap. you make a small shriek at the movement and he chuckles. all he can think about you, your lips, your face, your body, you. he runs his hands along your body, holding your love handles and grabbing chunks of your plush thighs. he can't help but place wet kisses against your neck causing you to gasp again and hold onto his arm, making crescent moon shape indents with your nails.

at the noise kirishima holds onto your chubby cheek again and stops kissing you, you open your eyes and look up at him. "how was your first kiss sweetheart?"

"i'm pretty sure that was more than just a first kiss kiri." you giggle back at him.

"well excuse me for kissing the woman i love," he says cheekily with a huge grin on his face.

"who you what?" you both freeze. you press your lips together in a tight line to try to stop yourself from smiling and he turns the same shade as his hair.

he bites his own lip trying to figure out what to do. he doesn't know what he can do to get out of this but he knows that no matter what happens you'll always remain friends, you'd never stop being his friends because he loves you.

"i do... i do sweetheart. i love you. i know you don't feel the same and that's okay." your eyes start watering and tears start running down your face, he quickly wipes the tears away and rushes out, "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i didn't mean to make you sad."

you grab hold of the collar of his shirt afraid that he'll change his mind and leave. "i'm not sad. i'm happy, so terribly happy." you pause as you take in a breath, trying to stop crying. "i love you so much."

[spiderize]

.・'-✧ :-TORN | LSK. -: ✧.

description: you’re leon’s girlfriend and the gals are fighting!!!! 😒😒😒

warnings: angst. leon is still in love with ada wong (me too) while you guys are dating (he loves you too(i think)). english is not my first language so plz correct me if there are mistakes!! first time posting fics on tumblr so expect disappointment because i don't know what i'm doing. THIS IS A ONESHOT! sorry people :(

word count: ~1k

You’re arguing with Leon, again... Your relationship with him has been rocky this year, with many factors adding to that but mostly due to his mission in Spain. This time, it's about Ada Wong. Just saying her name has left a bitter taste on your tongue.

You know of this infamous Ada Wong. Of course you do, how could you not? You haven't seen her, but you've heard stories from Leon. And he always talks so highly of her. And this time, when he came home smelling like women's perfume… you've had enough. You finally decided to confront him, and was met with the heart-shattering truth.

“Fine! I'm still in love with Ada, alright? Are you happy now, is that what you wanted to hear?”

It's not like you didn't expect that, but to hear it loud and clear coming from Leon… it was like the world went quiet. No loud car noises, not even the TV show that you turned on made a sound. All you could hear were his words that pierced right through your heart.

You pressed your lips together and nodded as tears threatened to fall down your face.

“So our relationship was a lie this whole time? I loved you, Leon! I fucking love you..”

You're cursing yourself, mentally. For being stupid. For thinking he was different from other people you've been with. For thinking that you could get married to him.

Leon's eyes soften as he sees your tears, guilt creeping into his expression. He reaches out tentatively, trying to cup your face.

“Don't touch me! Just don't…”

You're screaming at him because you're mad, but mostly because you don't know what you will do if he does end up touching you. You're scared you're gonna lean into his touch and let him make you forget.

“I care about you. Deeply. But there's something about Ada, she's like a part of me that I can't let go. I wish it wouldn't be like this, trust me… But my heart is torn between two different paths.”

His voice is gentle, filled with a mixture of guilt and sincerity.

And you hate him. You hate him for talking in that soft, gentle voice. The same voice that has told you countless of ‘I love you’s. Part of you wish he was just yelling at you.

“Then choose, Leon! Me or Ada?” You asked him, voice now raspy from crying and shouting.

Leon looks at you, eyes filled with conflict. He momentarily lifts his arms to hold you, before dropping back to his side. The hurt was evident in his face as he remembered your words earlier. He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before he speaks.

“I… can't. It's not fair to you… and not fair to Ada. I can't give you a straightforward answer, because I'm stuck in the middle.”

He pauses briefly, and you can hear his wavering voice.

“But I hope you know that I do care about you and I don't want to hurt you. I love you and my feelings for you are sincere and genuine. And if you can find the heart to bear with me through this struggle, then we can work through this together.” He said, and you can sense the sincerity.

But you can't. As much as you wanted this to work out, you can't stand being the second choice. It happened one too many times and you won't let it happen again.

“You can work through this. I can't! Not when I know that I'm not the only one in your heart. So just choose, please…” You choked the words out, wiping your tears but it's no use. They just keep falling down like it's damn Niagara Falls.

Leon's face falls, as if he's been struck by your words. He tries searching your eyes for any signs of forgiveness or understanding.

“I.. I can't. You deserve someone that will give their whole heart to you. And I don't want to lead you on when I'm still confused with my own emotions.”

His voice cracks. He takes a step closer and talks again, his voice barely above a whisper this time.

“I never wanted to hurt you, but… if you can be patient with me, I need time to figure things out, to make sense of what I feel.”

He begs for the last time, his words hang heavy in the air. And you speak immediately. Because if you don't, you're gonna think about his offer.

“Then I'll leave. I can't look at you—or even be near you right now.” You turn your back and walk away from him.

“I'm going to pack my things, and leave. And don't. Don't try to stop me, unless you have an answer for my question.”

And you do. You thought about leaving some of your clothes behind, but the thought of other women wearing your clothes makes you sick. You finished packing your stuff in the bedroom and as you walk towards the bedroom door to leave, you see a polaroid on the table.

You picked it up to see it clearly. It was a polaroid of you, face covered with chocolate cake, while Leon kissed your cheek. You remember this day, every second of it. It was your birthday, everybody was there. It was Claire who smashed your face in the cake. You remember getting mad about it but then laughing a second later.

You smiled at the polaroid, then put it back down on the table. You leave the bedroom and walk towards the front door of the apartment.

Leon was sitting at the couch, face in hands. When he heard you walk to the door, he stood up and looked at you.

You see him, and he looks like a mess. Probably more than you do. His shirt is soaked with his tears, and his eyes are red. He opens his mouth to speak, and you wonder if he is going to beg you to stay. Because maybe you'll listen, this time.

But he closed his mouth as soon as he opened it. Of course he wasn't going to. You speak to him one last time, “Goodbye, Leon.”

You twisted the door knob and walked out of the apartment without looking back. And as you leave, you felt a tightening knot in your chest, because all you wanted was to be loved the way you loved.

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 18+

WHISPERED SECRETS Masterlist

Summary: After four years, your sister's ex-boyfriend comes back into your life. Can you keep your entanglement a secret? Will the guilt eat you alive? 

Pairing:  Sisters ex Yoongi x Insecure F. Reader. 

Genre: SMUT, angst, hurt - comfort, romance. 

Warning: Explicit sex, fingering, Possessive Yoongi, swearing, reader is insecure, jealousy, punishment, unprotected sex, drinking, dirty talk, praising, degradation, spanking, spanking as punishment, teasing, hair pulling, arguments. Overuse of the name baby, Facial 

A/N: This chapter moves kind of fast. I needed to tie up some loose ends before the epilogue.   

ORAL SMUT BELOW!!  If you think facials are degrading….skip the end. 

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Voices, you hear voices in your head….no not in your head, in your apartment. Your eyes open slowly, and you notice that it's dark in your room. You don't even remember getting back into bed. Weren't you just at the hospital? The voices are becoming clearer, and you sit up in bed straining to hear what they were saying. One was definitely Yoongi, you noticed as you got out of bed and walked into your living room. You see your dad sitting on your couch. He and Yoongi seemed to be having a serious conversation.  Yoongi noticed you first, and with a small smile, he held his hand out to you. You join him on your oversized chair as your dad sits across from you on the couch. He looked at your wrapped wrist. He looked guilty.

“What's going on?” You ask quietly as you look between the two of them.

“I wanted to check on you after what happened at the house.  Yoongi said that he had taken you to the hospital,” your dad answered. “I……also wanted to apologize to you.” 

“Apologize?” You question. Yoongi goes to get up off the chair. You place your hand on his leg, keeping him down. “For what?”

“Everything,” he says. “For the way your mom and sister treated you all those years. I was never around for you.”

“Where's mom?” You asked.

“She's…uhh…going to stay with your sister for a while. Mingyu, he put the engagement on hold for right now. He heard the fight and left when she started screaming about Yoongi. Clearly, your sister needs to work on some things, ” your dad answers. You start to cry, and Yoongi pulls you closer to him. “It's not your fault, Y/N. I let too much go over the years. Worked too much, ignored you. I let them get away with everything because I didn't want to deal with them. I'm taking responsibility for that now.”

“Are you getting divorced?” you asked, sniffling. 

“I don’t know. There's too much resentment on both our ends to ignore now. I just hope that you will let me get to know you now….both of you?” he asks. You start crying more, and Yoongi's arm tightens its hold around you.  “Let me try and make up for the years we lost.” 

“Of course,” Yoongi answers. “She'll love that.” 

Your dad stands up from the couch, and the two of you follow suit. You silently follow him and watch as he nervously fiddles with his keys. Yoongi stays back to give you a moment alone with him. You hope that he really wants a relationship with you. You've come to terms years ago that your mom and sister were a lost cause even though it hurt to admit. This makes you feel hopeful.  You throw yourself at your dad and wrap your arms around him. It feels foreign and just a little awkward, but he welcomes it and hugs you back. 

“Maybe next weekend we can have a Christmas dinner if you're not busy?” he asks and you smile, agreeing with him.  “It's getting late, I should head out. Whatever happens, it's going to be okay.”

“Okay,” you say softly.

After you shut your front door bidding your dad a goodbye, you turn to see Yoongi looking at you. He looks lost in his thoughts as if he doesn’t know what to say to you. Was it something that they were talking about while you were sleeping?

“What's wrong?”you ask him. 

“Come here, sit. We need to have a talk,” he's quiet and calm. You do what he asks and sit down next to him. “Do you remember anything you said on the way home?”

“I don't even remember leaving the hospital,” you say, and he nods his head like he expected that. “What did I say?” 

“I think in order for us to move forward completely, you need to be honest with me,” he stares into your eyes. It's an intense, serious look. “Truly honest.” 

“Okay,” you whisper. Your hands start to shake nervously. You can't even begin to fathom what he wants to talk so seriously about. 

“Do you hold it against me that I was with your sister Like…..sexually?” he asked, and your eyes widened.

“What? Why would you ask that?” Your voice raises a little.

“Because of you…you brought it up in the car,” he answers. “You may have mentioned a sex tape too, but that doesn't matter right now.” 

“What? No! I try not to think about that stuff. It's just….” You don't want to continue. 

“Ask me. Anything you want, ask me.  You heard your dad. I don't want that resentment between us.” he explains. “I don't want you to ever be unsure about us because of my past with her. I need you to speak up now.” 

“Did you love her?” You blurt out.

“No,” he said automatically without any hesitation.   

“You were together for years…” you start but sigh in hesitation. “I just don’t understand how we ended up here sometimes.”

Yoongi takes your hand and pulls you close to him. Your legs are completely pressed up against one another. Taking your hand, he gives it a firm squeeze and tells you to look at him. Your eyes meet his. He strokes your cheek gently with his thumb, almost like he's trying to reassure you. 

“Do you want me to tell you everything?” You nod. “Even if it makes me sound bad?” You nod again. “When I first met her. It was in a friend's dorm room, and she flirted pretty heavily with me. I was young and she was pretty and…honestly,  she put out easily. What 18 year old guy wouldn't want that? We had only been together maybe two weeks before she brought me home to meet your family. She didn’t really talk about you. All she said was that she had a kid sister. So, I thought maybe you were like 10 or something. Then, when I first met you. You obviously were not 10.  It confused me at first, but I guess some siblings are not close, and I didn't really question it. Then, I saw how she talked to you, how your parents acted, and how you always kept to yourself. I felt bad for you…”

“Great, that's just great.” You interrupted him and tried to stand up. Yoongi grabbed you around your waist to keep you where you were.

“Listen, I felt bad at first, and that's why I always tried to help you out. Then, the more time we spent together, I actually considered you a friend. That all started to change when you went with that fucking boy to that dance. You looked so beautiful that night but you were so young and I felt horrible for having those thoughts. What kind of boyfriend has those thoughts about their girlfriend's sister?  I felt so guilty for suddenly finding myself attracted to you. I tried breaking up with her that night. We argued for hours and she lost it crying and begged me not to leave her. She threw herself at me and I gave in like an idiot. Then we started….you called me crying. I completely shut her down to help you and she was furious. I was so scared for you that night, hearing you cry I thought that the bastard did something to you.”

Yoongi takes a deep breath as his leg starts to bounce at the memory. “Keep going,” you whisper as you rub his leg comfortingly. 

“I knew I had to stop coming around so much. Seeing that hickey on your neck, I was jealous, and I had no right to be.  So, I got my own place, got a job, and she pretty much moved in with me without asking. I told her that I didn't want her to, but she never listened.” he continued and shook his head “I tried to put some distance between you and I. I thought maybe those feelings would go away if I didn't see you all the time, and I could focus on school and maybe focus on your sister more like I should have. I was stupid for letting it go on for as long as it did when I knew that I couldn't force myself to love her. Fuck, I don't even think I liked her.”

“What do you mean?” You ask.

 “I stayed with her to see you,” he confessed. “How selfish is that? I was in love with you, but I still stayed with her just to have an excuse to see you. Looking at you…it was such a rush of emotions and feelings that I can't even describe. I never felt that for her. I just felt exhausted and suffocated with her.” 

“How did you break up with her?” your voice asked softly.

“When you fell asleep after that fight with your mom. I felt like I failed you. If I hadn't suggested that you apply to that art school, then that fight wouldn't have happened. I just knew I had to get out of there no matter how much I wished I could take you with me…I couldn't.  I found your sister in the kitchen, and she went in on me about my feelings for you for the 100th time. She said she was willing to forgive me if I never saw you again. I just laughed at her, and I walked out. I went home and packed her shit. I threw it on your parents' doorstep.” 

“They always knew how you felt about me?” You ask and look at the floor.

“Yea, I'm sure they did,” he said, nodding his head. 

“Then what happened?” you wonder, and he shrugged.

“ I changed my number the next day and avoided her around campus at all costs. Ended up changing my major and completely changing my schedule.  I tried to push all thoughts of you away and move on with my life. I didn't think I would ever see you again, but then years later, Jimin and Hobi had convinced me to grab some food with them. Jimin ended up going to the bar next door and, by some sick twist of fate, met Lisa,” he stops talking and looks at you. 

“Then she ditched me,” you say, and he nodded. 

“And then I found you,” he whispered. “My head told me to walk away and leave you alone when I saw you standing out there. My heart though…I needed you. Even if it was going to be for one night, I needed you. That's what I told myself…just one night. As soon as I kissed you in my car…I knew that was a lie.” 

You lean up and give him a soft kiss. Your arms go around him, holding him close in a hug. You feel his lips brush your neck.  The both of you were quiet. The air was still quite heavy around you. 

“You could have never saved me, Yoongi. You were young, too. That wasn't your job.  That's not what this is, is it? Are you trying to save me now because you couldn't back then?” You asked, dreading the answer

“NO! I get how you could think that. I still look at you now and I feel like that 19, 20 year old kid who just absolutly, fucking adores you.” He confesses. 

“It wasn't right to stay with my sister if you didn't even like her. I understand why you did it, but it makes me feel worse. I was the reason you broke up. Wasn't I?” You ask quietly

“It wasn't ever going to work out between her and I. We were too different. I know I strung her along, and I'm an asshole for that. It wasn't your fault I fell in love with you.” he tells you. 

After a moment of silence, you both settle back in the chair and get comfortable with his arm around you as your head rests on his chest. You take a minute to ponder everything that he said to you. You do feel bad for your sister. You think that she really did love him in her own selfish way. Sighing, you look at your boxes, cluttering your living room. It seemed like he did get a lot of packing done.  You look at him with a quirk of an eyebrow and smirk at him. 

“Am I better in bed than her?” You ask joking with him. 

“Nobody could ever compare to you,” he said with a laugh. He gently grabs your face and kisses you. He pulls back and smirks at you. “Still want to make that sex tape? I'm all for jerking it on your face.”

You also have settled into your office at Persona records nicely in the past few months.  You didn't have the best view, it was just the parking lot but it was quiet. Namjoon was great, too. When he gave you a pile of papers of organized chaos and the login information to your computer, it took you a good while to figure out his system. You pretty much just deleted everything and started from scratch.  It was much more legible that way. Yoongi would often visit you throughout the day.  Once or twice, he might have tried to convince you to have a quickie with him. You may have given in once…okay you give in all time. You've banned him since then, only allowing him in once a day and told him clothes have to stay on. He pouted and tried to bribe you, but you did really need to work. Hobi always sneaks into your office a couple of times a week to have lunch with you, and you always look forward to it. He claims that you're his favorite person in the office. Well, next to Yoongi, that is. Together, you try to conspire about what to get Yoongi for his birthday.  He claims he doesn't want anything and won't even hint at wanting anything. Hobi says, Just let him tie you up for the night….not a bad idea. 

You laugh at him……wait…..what?

Christmas and New Years had passed in a blur. Yoongi loved the records and basketball tickets. He said he's going to get the two of you matching jerseys for the game.  He got you some framed prints of your favorite paintings to hang on the walls in your now shared apartment and a gift card to Chic-n-Wings. You were going to eat the hell out of some rolls. You had spent that morning with Yoongi’s parents. They loved you. They made you feel like their home was yours now as well. It felt like you had a real family for the first time. They even had a stocking for you. Your dad had a small Christmas dinner with the two of you. He told you he definitely approves of Yoongi, and that made you so happy. Your mom wasn't there. She called you the next day, and you wished her a happy holiday. She called you ungrateful after she gave up her own dreams to be a mother to you. You finally got your answer after a heated conversation where there was a lot of yelling. Turns out, your parents had your sister earlier than they thought forcing your mom to drop out of school. She was supposed to go back to school after your sister got older and went into daycare, then you came along, ruining it all and crushing her own dreams for good. Yoongi had snacthed your phone quickly out of your hand and laid into her. Telling her that she was never a mother and she doesn’t deserve to call herself one.  How you were not to blame for her own failings, and he better not hear her talk to you like that again. You told her you hope that she finds whatever it is she needs, but this was goodbye. You blocked her after that. As sad as you were, you finally had a sense of freedom.

“You're going to watch our men play basketball,” Lisa tells her. “You've been cooped up far too long.”

“I don't know what I'm doing here?” Jisoo complained.  You and Lisa have her linked between the two of you dragging her through the rec center. 

“It'll be fun. We haven't spent a lot of time together lately,” you tell her. She sighs and continues to let you drag her down the hall. “It's also Yoongi's birthday. It's a great time for all of us to come together.” 

“Oh yeah, being the fifth wheel sounds fun,” Jisoo grumbled.

“Oh, Y/N, hello,” you look to your side and see Seungkwan coming out of the door to the track. 

“Seungkwan, it's good to see you. How are you? How's work?” You ask politely. 

“Oh, Lisa didn't tell you. I quit not long after you. I'm just temping now until I can find something permanent,” he tells you. You can see his eyes flick to Jisoo, who in turn is trying not to stare at the handsome blonde.   

“I'm sorry. Seungkwan, this is Jisoo,” you introduce.

“Ah, the one with the wine. It's nice to meet you,” he says softly.  

“You too,” she said, ducking her head. You hear Lisa mutter “gross” and take off to the indoor courts. 

“Baby, what's taking so long?” Yoongi asks, jogging up to you. “Who's this?”

“This is Seungkwan.  We used to work together….he hates Lisa too,” you tell him, and he nods his head in approval. 

“I like you already. Do you play?” Yoongi asks, looking at him while twirling the basketball around.  

“A little,” Seungkwan answers. 

“Great you're on my team,” Yoongi takes your hand, and the four of you head back down the hall.  You look back at Jisoo, who is nodding at something Seungkwan is saying. The two of you lock eyes, and you send her a wink. 

You and Lisa were cheering for your respective boyfriends. You laugh at Jimin, try as he might. He just didn't have the athleticism that Yoongi had. He tripped over his own feet several times, earning laughs from everyone. Seungkwan was a surprise, though. He and Yoongi worked well together, easily securing the win. Jisoo even got into the game and cheered and clapped for Seungkwan.  He turned beet red and waved at her excitedly.  You felt second-hand embarrassment  for the both of them. You make a mental note to tell Namjoon about him. He mentioned he needed someone to take over taxes and royalties.  That was way beyond your skills. Seungkwan would be perfect for it, and it seems like he could be perfect for Jisoo, too.  Things were changing, and this time, it was for the best.

“Yea? Maybe I should play more often,” he suggests. Pulling you to him, he kisses you. His tongue works its way between your lips, intermingling with your own. His hands gently massage your waist. Your own hands sneak up over his shoulder and link together behind his neck. 

“Do you know how good you look playing basketball?” You ask Yoongi as you slip into the shower with him.  He rinses the shampoo from his hair, and he turns to embrace you.

“I won't complain,” you say. Pulling away, you start to trail kisses along his jaw. Your hands glide slowly down his wet body until you get to his rapidly hardening cock. Your hand gently starts to stroke him. “I thought you were so hot back when you made me watch you at the park too. I think you were probably trying to show off for me.” Your lips start to move downward against his neck. You slowly start to drop to your knees. Taking your time dropping kisses as you go. Down across his chest, his stomach and finally down his happy trail. Until you finally settle down onto your knees on the shower floor. 

“Of course I was. Maybe you should have said something back then,” he voice came out a little breathy. “You know, some of the guys I was with kept asking me who you were. They wanted your number.” 

“Oh?” You ask and smile up at him. Lifting his erection toward him, you make a show of licking him from base to tip. “Why didn't you?” Yoongi's hand flew to your hair. Gripping it firmly, he forced you to look up at him. 

“Why do you think?” He snaps at you.

You love getting him worked up. You hold eye contact with him as you take him into your mouth, slowly letting your tongue swirl around him. You can hear his head hitting the shower wall with a light thump. You've gotten a lot better at this. You may….or may not have finally gone to Lisa for tips. Did she tease you? Absolutely. 

“I might have liked one of them. Lisa and I probably could have double dated. I think she got a couple of their numbers that night,” you say after you pull off of him with a pop. His head snaps down to look at you. The water dripping from his hair makes him look enticing and dangerous.  You stick your tongue out and give one single lick to his tip. 

“You were fucking mine. You were always mine,” he growls. 

Hand still in your hair, he guides you back on him. You still can't take him all in your mouth, and he's always been very mindful about that. Taking as much as you could in your mouth, you finally start bobbing up and down on him. Grabbing him around the base, you start twisting your wrist in time with your bobbing head. Yoongi starts to move his hips, keeping his own rhythm with you. You move your hands and place them on his thighs, bracing yourself, letting him take control as his thrusts get a little faster. You gag on him, and he pulls you off him. 

“Still can’t take it all yet,” he mocks you. “Maybe I should just….what did you say…jack it on your face?”

You lick your lips and look up at him. Is he really going to do it? You didn't think he was ever going to bring that up again. Honestly, you're not against it. You just nod your head, and his eyes widen in surprise just for a moment. 

“Really?” He asks you quietly with wide eyes. His whole demeanor completely changed.“Are you sure?”  You look up at him and nod silently. He gently shifts you out of the stream of water that was pelting you in the face. Leaning down, he captures your lips once more in a searing kiss with tongues intertwining. “I love you,” he whispers.

 Straightening back up, Yoongi looks down at you as he takes himself in his hand.  Biting his lower lip, he slowly starts to pump himself. You watch him, your eyes flicking between watching his hand and looking at his face. His focus is solely on you. Looking at you, drenched, naked, and kneeling in front of him. You slowly bring your hands up to your chest and cup your breasts, letting your fingers gently pull at your hardened nipples. You let a small moan escape you. His hand starts to speed up, mouth dropping open, and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek.

“Keep touching yourself. I like that,” he tells you gruffly. “You look so beautiful.”

You start to feel brave, and your hand travels lower between your own legs. You spread your knees just a little wider, and his eyes shoot down to the view. Yoongi breath hitches and he snatches the back of your head with his free hand and pulls you right in front of the tip of his cock. Your tongue sneaks out of your mouth to give his tip a lick. He groans and his hand tightens in your hair.

“Close your eyes and stick out your tongue,” he orders. 

You follow his direction and do as you're told. You close your eyes tightly and open your mouth. As you stick out your tongue you feel him tap the tip of him against it. You want to watch, you want to see him. You bet he looks beautiful. 

“Fuck, here it come,” he groans out as a warning to you.  You flinch a little when you feel it hit your face. Thick, ropes of cum landing across your cheeks, eyes and your tongue. Yoongi starts slapping his cock against your face before he sticks it back in your mouth. “Suck a little more.” He tells you. 

Keeping your eyes closed, you lightly moan around him as you suck on his tip. Completely emptying him. You hear him chuckle, and the shower door opens for a quick second. He gently pulls you off him again and wipes at your eyes with a soft cloth. 

“Open your eyes,” he murmurs. You look at him, and he's smiling at you. “I should really take a picture of you right now. Covered in me. It's the most sexist thing I've ever seen.”  You shake your head and start to blush. This only makes Yoongi laugh at you. Wetting the towel, he proceeds to clean off your face. “I can't believe you let me do that.”

“Happy birthday,” you tell him. He winks at you and pulls you up and into a hug. You wrap your arms around him and let the water warm you back up. You smile to yourself at this moment. Finally, everything is starting to feel perfect. 

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Tagged Readers:

@marimarvelfan, @unicornbabylover, @minghaosimp, @seoullove96

@iheartsvt, @babyitscoldoutside

[noroi1000]

Honored One Shot no.9 - @iam-mia9

Mama (SatoSugu x reader)

Little angst with fluff

"Go on a date without me. I'll take care of the baby." You said as you hugged the black-haired baby to your chest.

They both looked at you questioningly. And their eyes later went to the little baby in your arms, and to the baby in your belly.

As a mom, did you really think you couldn't go on a date?

First you had Suguru's baby and now you were pregnant with Satoru's baby.

And being pregnant and taking care of a small baby is hard.

That's why they wanted you to go on a date with them for a little rest.

Yaga would take care of the baby for a few hours and you would go to a restaurant or to the cinema.

Something you can't do while pregnant is drinking alcohol. Among the three of you, there's only one person who occasionally drinks with someone. For example, with Shoko. That's why you won't go to any bar.

Restaurant. Or even fast food. You too deserve rest. But according to you, you must have been home all the time.

And taking care of a child was tiring.

There were three of you for this, but none of you could say it was an easy job.

If they had to say which is easier, fighting curses or taking care of a baby, they will say that it is easier to fight curses.

But babysitting is fun. When they look at that little one in your hands or when they hold that tiny body.

It's cute.

Even if the first child you had was Suguru's child, Satoru loves that child. When he looks at that little head, he sees black hair and purple eyes. Same as his husband. And he also remembers when that little one was in your belly.

Satoru is raising Suguru's baby. It will be the same with Suguru. Because he will also raise Satoru's child.

You agreed to be pregnant a second time because Satoru was jealous. He also wanted a baby.

So now you were walking with the child growing inside of you, also caring for the baby you gave birth to a few months ago.

Satoru suddenly got up and took the black-haired baby from you, cradling it to his chest.

"We want to go on a date together. As a married couple. You're our wife, so you're coming with us too, baby." The White Haired Man said as he stood next to you with the sleeping baby.

"We've been planning this for days. But when we wanted to tell you about it, you were tired." Suguru added as he looked at you sitting at the table.

"Don't wait," you said, stroking the toddler's black hair. "Go on a date. I will stay at home. But don't hesitate. I'm not stopping you."

"We want to go with you."

"Just because I'm pregnant and taking care of a baby doesn't mean you two can't go on a date together. When we decided to have children, we all knew that it would be the end of trips or dates for at least one of us." you said calmly. "I'll stay home and you two go play. You are your husbands. Your relationship also needs to be cared."

Their relationship will be cherished. Because either way, you're already connected to them forever. Knowing that you gave birth to children will be with you for the rest of your life. And you don't regret having them.

"We are together so we wanted to go with you." Satoru suddenly said.

"It's just like sex, right? You're going to insist that I do it with you, right? So I will repeat the same again... You don't need me to do this. You two can go on a date. Yes, you can have sex without me. I am a mother and I take care of the child, you can play. Take advantage of me taking care of you and letting you live the life you had before you were a father. Go on a date, have fun. I'll stay home and take care of the baby."

"You know just because the three of us are together doesn't mean one of us stays home and gets bored, took care of the baby and the other two will play outside." Suguru said as he got up from his chair and came closer, kissing his baby's forehead.

"Suguru, it's okay. I'll just stay home. I'm not gonna make any of you stay so that I'm the one to leave. I am the mother of these children, and I will take care of them. You don't have to give up your life just because of it. For you, I gave up all the distractions I used to do. So you don't have to give up.

It's true, you quit your job because you're a mom and you're pregnant. Besides, they make money. You gave up going out with friends to take care of you and the kids. You gave up entertainment that would make you worse. You couldn't just give your husbands a baby and leave the house to play.

You're not like that.

They are your children and you will take care of them.

Suddenly, a smile appeared on Satoru's lips.

Before you could ask what he meant, he spoke himself, preventing any words from leaving your mouth.

"Baby? When did our little mochi last eat?" he asked as he handed you the baby.

"Right... Babies need to eat before bed, honey, are you hungry?" You murmured as you walked away from them to take care of your baby.

"What are you planning?" Suguru asked as he saw his White Haired husband's smile.

He stepped closer to him and rested his head on his shoulder as he watched you disappear through the door.

"Start cooking. I'll prepare a table like in a restaurant." He said as you closed the door and he quickly walked over to the wardrobe.

It took you more than half an hour to feed the baby and put to sleep.

It's just that your little one didn't want to fall asleep, even though it was nap time.

However, you managed to do it.

Violet eyes closed.

And when you left the room, you felt a nice and tasty smell of cooking food.

You went to the kitchen to see your long-haired husband in an apron cooking something. And your white-haired husband walks around the table, putting three plates on a red tablecloth.

"How do you like it?" he asked as he came over to give you a kiss.

"You were supposed to go out on a date." you said but you kissed him back.

"We don't want to leave you at home alone. We'll have dates at home if you want," he said as he led you to your baby's father.

You clung to his side, pressing your belly into his hip. And Satoru stood behind him, wrapping his arms around your waist and his. And laid his head on his shoulder while he cooked for you.

[lady-maracas]

Hello! I have juicy angsty request for you! It's angel dust x !male reader and it goes like this:

Reader and angel lived in the same period and used to work in the mafia where they met eachother and eventually fell in love with eachother (in a secret relationship), after some time both reader and angel die in shootouts with other gangs and the cops.

They both assume that their partner went to heaven and go many years in hell alone. Until by pure luck Reader finds angel wasted behind a bar and decides to help this random twink he found (they don't recognize eachother because angel is a spider demon dude now and thus pretty different visuallg compared to his living self, same goes for reader), after angel becomes sober and understands that reader isn't someone who will take advantage of him the 2 start having some small talk which eventually leads to them both thinking "HOLY SHIT ARE YOU ANGEL/READER?!!?", after which they cry tears of joy after finally finding their soulmate after decades spent alone

Angst prompts are 17, 22, 30 and 40

Also it's the first time that i write a request with a prompt system so sorry if i messed it up and of course feel free to modify my request however you like if you need to.

Thanks for reading!

Memories

Pairing: AngelDust X M!Reader

Word count: 2k words

Warnings: Swearing, Angst with a happy ending.

Masterlist

I’ll be using angst prompts:

#17, “I lost myself the day I lost you.”

#22, “I’d take our relationship back in a heartbeat.”

#30, “You don’t have to hide your tears from me.”

#40, “You know I still love you, right?”

It had been a cold night. A bad feeling was in the air, as if everyone knew we’d never make it out alive. It was one of those days, working for the mafia, fulfilling your destiny, as they say. If I had the choice, I wouldn’t have done any of this—the killing, the fighting, the running away. I would have had a beautiful life and a better family. I would’ve been happy. Unfortunately, I had to work with my family, kill for them, fight for them, and be unhappy for them.

It was a cold night indeed. We could hear the bugs singing and fireflies lighting up the dark night. There was fog, if I remember correctly. Yes, there was. I was surrounded by my family and the rest of our mafia members. The ten of us stood around our enemies shelter, their house, hidden in the middle of the woods. We had found them a couple of days prior, deciding we needed to attack them first.

I remember walking slowly towards the house, crouching behind tall herbs. It was quiet; the only sound we could hear was our steps in the wet grass. I looked to my right, and I remember seeing him.

Oh, my dear Anthony, the light of my life. His blonde hair stood out in the dark, and his blue eyes looked right back at me. We had met a couple of years ago, when he joined my family’s team. Just like me, he was following his relatives orders, not liking the line of work we were bound to. I remember the first time I saw him and how mesmerized I was. His fluffy blonde hair, his deep blue eyes, his rosy cheeks—everything about him made me immediately fall in love. He was a bit taller than I was, making me look up at him like he was a god. He was beautiful.

Over the next few years, we got to know each other better. He spent our days together, followed our families together, comforted each other through hard times, and we were attached at the hip. I would lie if I said I didn’t fall madly in love with him. Unfortunately, the 40s weren’t swell enough to accept us, two men, being in love with each other. So we never said so. It was obvious, though; he cared for me as much as I cared for him.

So that night, that damned night, when our oh-so genius plan failed, when the enemies attacked us before we even had the time to draw our weapons, I knew I had to say something to him. I remember trying to make my way up to him through the bullet rain. That is when it hit me. Right through the spine and the stomach. Fuck.

I saw Anthony’s eyes widening as I fell into the tall grass. It all happened in slow motion. He threw himself down and made his way up to me, cradling me in his arms, tears threatening to fall on his cheeks. He was afraid.

“It’s okay.” I tried to lift my hand to his cheek. I think I did. “You don’t have to hide your tears from me, it’s alright.” I gave him a weak smile, and so did he, his tears staining his cheeks.

And everything went black, as black as the night sky.

That’s what happened; well, that’s how I remember it happening. My death. It was a lifetime ago, but sometimes it still felt like yesterday. I remember his thumb rubbing soothing circles on my arm, trying to make my death as painless as possible. I am forever glad the last thing I saw was his beautiful face.

I hope he lived a beautiful life after my passing. Or, well, at least I hope he lived. I have no idea when, how, or where he died. I don’t know if he’s in hell or in heaven. I hope he is in heaven, living his afterlife in peace, but a part of me wished he’d be down here in hell.

I got used to living alone in this shithole; I had to anyway. I spent most of my days working, trying my best to earn money to survive. I often spent that money on drinks, trying to solve all my problems by forgetting them for a short while. Tonight was no different; I was sitting at the bar of a shitty club. The music was awful, I cursed whoever chose to play some of these tasteless tracks. I stared at the bottom of my drink, silently hoping the creepy bartender, who has been giving me weird looks since I arrived, didn’t spike my drink.

I had very few friends down here in hell. Most of them have families and important duties to take care of. None of them knew just how much I was struggling to live here, to be happy, and to have a good afterlife. I was desperate, I needed a good friend, or at least someone who would understand me.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by a loud, crashing noise right beside me. I turned my head just in time to see a pink figure jump across the bar to tackle the bartender.

“Did you fucking spike my drink?” I heard the pink figure shout about two inches from the bartender’s face, holding his collar with his right hand, or more like one of his four hands. “You fucking…drugged me!” His speech was slurred. He definitely was not sober, and if he told the truth, he was drugged too.

The bartender pushed him away, making him stumble back. “I did not!” The bartender gestured, almost knocking on my drink in the process. I grabbed the glass, finishing its contents in one swift sip.

“There’s no need to fight, gentlemen.” I spoke up, trying to break the tension between the two. I put my hand on the pink man’s shoulder; he was much taller than me. “Come on, I’ll get you some help.” I tried to reason with him, obviously, he was scared. He glared at me, his eyes staring at mine, one white, one black. I took one of his arms and led him through the front door. “Where do you live? I’ll help you home.” I asked.

“You’re the one who…asked him to spike my drink, huh? If you wanted to take advantage of me, you could’ve just asked.” He brushed his fluffy bangs out of his face. I looked back at him with a soothing smile on my face. “I’m not trying to take advantage of you…uh” I hesitated; I didn’t know his name. “My name is Angel.” His speech was slurred. “Alright then, Angel, if you want me to, I’ll help you home.” I offered him my hand, to which he clung, to steady his sloppy steps. We walked for a bit to where I assumed was his home, all the while exchanging small talk.

I noticed Angel had been leading me to the famous Hazin Hotel. Oh Lord, please don’t tell me he lives there. “You’re staying at the hotel?” I asked, a bit hesitant. “Yeah, yeah, I was forced to; my friend, Charlie, thinks I can rehabilitate my soul. Ha!” He laughed at the thought. “You don’t think you can redeem your soul?” I laughed with him. “Absolutely not!” He crossed all four arms. “This body was made for sex, Toots! There is no way I’ll ever be a sweet angel!” He stumbled a bit due to the alcohol in his system. “Steady, we’re almost there!” I encouraged him by giving him my hand for him to grab again. He was definitely a funny guy.

We made our way up to the hotel, the path seeming endless. He waddled in, keeping the door open for me, but when I didn’t enter, he turned around, giving me a puzzled look. “You’re sure you want me to come in? I don’t want to bother you.” I fidget with my hands. I definitely wanted to help him, but I did not want to deal with everyone else who might stay at this hotel. “Oh, come on, you’re no bother! Everyone else is probably asleep by now.” He let go of the door when I stepped in. I noticed his Italian accent, and I loved that…

He walked up the stairs, holding the railing with both his right hands to steady himself. I stayed behind him in case he stumbled down. When we arrived in front of his room, he opened the door, and I hesitated again, not wanting to overstep. His room was decent, even nice. I barely had the time to process my surroundings when I heard the tap water in the bathroom sink. Angel leaned over the sink to try and drink. “Don’t you have a glass somewhere you can use?” I giggled a bit at the funny situation. “Nope!” He replied, sending water down his face. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Mh! That was good!” He mumbled a bit under his breath.

“I like your accent! Is it Italian?” My mouth asked before my brain even had the time to approve. He gave me a funny look before answering. “Yeah, my family was Italian. My real family, I mean.” He sat down on his bed, resting his arms on his thighs. “I miss my life, y’know. Wait, no, actually, I don’t. I used to work for my family, which sucked.” ‘Same…’ I wanted to answer, but I didn’t. “I wish I had lived longer, but when I really think about it, I had no reason to live…” He continued. ‘Oh, this was going to be a deep conversation’, I thought. “You know, my life was pretty much like yours; I’m afraid I used to work for my family too.” I tried to reassure him. He laughed softly. “Yeah, well, I guess you weren’t working for the fucking Mafia…” He sighed.

What? I had been looking away, but when I heard him, I turned slowly back to him. This couldn’t be right…I had to be dreaming, or maybe I misunderstood him. “When did you die?” I asked under my breath, fearing the answer. “1947, why?” He looked at me as if I were crazy.

My breath got caught in my throat. I wanted to cry, to laugh, and to jump into his arms. I wanted to tell him how much I loved him. “Anthony?!” I barely let out, wishing my eyes weren’t deceiving me. I saw his face become numb, all emotion leaving his face in the span of a second. “Y/N?” He returned.

I let out a breathy sob, tuning into his arms. He had gotten up, ready to cradle me in his arms, just like he did the day I died. I had finally found him—my love, my light, my everything. We cried for what felt like hours. I finally pulled back to look at his face. He did look different, but after all, he was still my Anthony.

“Oh, Y/N, you don’t know how I missed you; I lost myself when I lost you.” He smiled through his tears. Oh, how I love him. “I still love you, you know? All these years in hell, I tried to find myself, but I was never able to, not without you by my side. It turns out I died only a couple of weeks after you.” I didn’t hesitate this time; not afraid to cross any boundaries, I pressed my lips to his, stepping on my tiptoes. He returned my kiss eagerly, which sent butterflies through my stomach. I loved him. I pulled back a bit, leaning my forehead against his. “I’d take our relationship back in a heartbeat, if you’d let me.” I wiped the tears that fell down on my cheeks, to which he laughed. “You don’t have to ask me twice.” He said.

At last, I had found my home.

///

Heya readers! Again, thank you for the request, @4ndr3ax10 , I hope you like it!

Just a reminder, I can write for multiple characters from multiple fandoms, you can find that info on my prompt list! Thank you!

[silveryhill]

F1 RACING, 01.06.2001

Murray Walker's interview with Alain

The last is the inevitable one, Ayrton Senna. But before you answer, I want to tell you a little story. One year at Monaco, I waited four and a half hours outside the Marlboro motorhome to do an interview with Senna. The two of you were having a debrief. When the door opened, the first person who came out was you. I said: "You've been in there for four and a half hours. What on earth do you talk about for all that time?" You said: "Well, Murray, we talk about this and we talk about that, but I do not like to be the first to leave!" Did that sum up your relationship with Ayrton?

Yes and no. The team were very professional. Everything we could get from each other was important. If you left too soon, you would miss learning something.

But the way you said it, I had the impression that once you left, Ayrton would say, "And put another two pounds in the tyres."

We were very professional. Even when we had the big fight. It was a funny situation because we only talked to each other in the briefings. There, it was like we never had any problem. We were sharing set-ups and things on the car. I promise you – and I don't know whether the same is true for him – that I never, ever lied to him.

As someone who had enormous admiration for Senna, I never forgave him for lying about Japan in '90.

The only problems I have today are Imola '89 and Japan '90. I really suffered over them. Everybody lies in life, but when you lie for your own benefit... I suffered a lot. I almost stopped at the end of '90. For a few days I wondered whether it was worth carrying on, especially when I saw the comments in the papers that it was almost my fault! I remember one of the Honda engineers coming to me on the evening of the race and saying, "We have looked at the telemetry. It is unbelievable, Senna stayed absolutely flat until the impact." I thought, "Shit." Why didn't the truth come out? Living with that was very difficult. You must understand that Ayrton's motivation was to beat me. All he wanted to do was beat me. Being world champion was one thing, but that was almost second to the challenge of beating me. I was his obsession. As soon as I retired, he changed totally. We talked on the phone as if we had been friends for a long time. After I stopped, our new relationship made me forget about everything else. I remembered only the best of Ayrton and not the worst. It's like in school.

[greenfiend]

Will Byers the Love Guru

In Stranger Things 3, he’s the one who’s “not gonna fall in love”, yet he’s out there fixing every one else’s relationship problems…

Lucas/Max

Jonathan/Nancy

Dustin/Suzie

Hopper/Joyce

and even…

Mike/Eleven…

So come along on this wild journey with me as I explain Will’s influence on those pairings…

Before I begin, I must remind you that everything is intentional within this show. If Will suddenly appears within a shot or someone says or does something that doesn’t seem relevant… it is still relevant but just not in the way you might initially think.

I’m going to start with the more simple “fixes” and end with the most complicated.

Lucas/Max

Their relationship in ST3 was fairly low key. Their “breakups” were not serious and were always temporary. Lucas does mess up at times though.

Oops! Code red! Code red! Lucas needs some help asap!

Well that was a close call! Thanks to Will of course, who magically appeared in this shot and clearly influenced Lucas.

Will understands the mysteries of the female species better than these guys clearly. Not sure what they’d do without him.

Jonathan/Nancy

Jonathan and Nancy had a major fight in ST3, and Will is having none of his big bro’s BS! He instantly calls him out for not being there for Nancy.

Will strikes again! Thank goodness for his influence. What a good little bro!

Dustin/Suzie

Okay, things are getting stranger now.

No one believes Dustin has a girlfriend… except for our dear lil Will! But I can’t really blame the others, she did seem unbelievable. I mean she did come from “Camp Know Where”. Sounds pretty made up to me.

Did Will conjure her up? Well… let’s just say it’s interesting that the first ever shot we see of her involves her holding up a book about a wizard… I’m not ruling this out as a possibility… 🧙🏻‍♂️

Hopper/Joyce

Oh Will… sweet sweet Will. He’s worried about his mother, and doesn’t want her to be alone anymore… so what does he do, you ask? Well…

He Marty Mcflys it! He influences Hopper by “flaying” him and pushes him together with his mom!

Things get a tad awkward though. But his intentions were pure!

Mike/Eleven

So… this one is the most complicated one because Will is very biased here obviously. He’s hopelessly in love with Mike. In the beginning, he had a hand in Mike and El’s breakup as he was pulling the strings behind Hopper’s intervention. Hopper “threatened” Mike due to Will’s influence. Now, don’t worry, Will didn’t actually threaten to kill Mike, Mike made that very clear.

Mike and Will have their epic rain fight and things are tense.

Until… Will has a change of heart.

Notice how Will is clearly in the shot here? Well it’s because he is wanting to give his “olive branch” to Mike. He’s tried of the tension between them and wants to make things right.

Look at the words here! These are not Mike’s words. They’re Will’s words to Mike!

Both of these moments are Will putting words into Mike’s mouth, just as he did to Lucas, Jonathan, and Hopper! But he’s not as successful.

The first moment was just bad timing as El was not even present. The second time, the connection was poor, that’s why Mike was literally drawing blanks and unable to complete his sentences. We know this because the walkie talkie call from Dustin provided the subtext for it.

Mike actually doesn’t even remember saying the words because Will said them for him…

In conclusion, Will is a great love guru, but still cannot fix Mike and El’s problems. Dunno if even the most powerful wizard could successfully fix their problems…

[venus-haze]

Dawn Patrol (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: You never thought you’d see him again. Your soulmate, your other half, your partner in crime-fighting, the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It seems like the universe is giving you a second chance when you end up in this place with Homelander. Except, this one isn't quite like the man you remember, but he's not letting that stop him.

Note: Gender-neutral reader, and no descriptors are used. This is based on an anonymous request and also a different take on the “love of your life died and came back but something's wrong” horror trope. Title comes from the Megadeth song (which is about living in a dystopia). Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: Extremely unhealthy relationship. Intense feelings of loss, confusion, and self-doubt on the reader’s part. Some elements of unreality? Homelander is extremely manipulative, possessive, and gaslights the hell out of the reader in this, but no physical harm is done. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

The man standing in front of you wasn’t John, not your John, at least. He acted strange whenever you called him that. Homelander felt so impersonal, though, a title and persona rather than the man you loved your whole life. You silently scolded yourself. You shouldn’t complain so much, not when he believed you, against all reason, despite never having met you before in this version of reality. If it were even real. 

You had crumbled the first time you saw him. Weeks of being locked in a lab, poked and prodded and tested before he entered with an unfamiliar coldness. It had to have been a cruel trick, these people using your greatest vulnerability against you. John had been presumed dead for years. The ache that consumed you at his loss made it hard to even breathe sometimes, and you’d spent countless nights alone in your formerly shared bed, wracked by guilt for not doing more as you silently implored the universe to give you one more chance. You should have known it’d come with plenty of strings attached.

His name echoed through the room in a desperate howl. You strained against the titanium cuff you were chained to, and he froze upon hearing one of the links break. Rabid, desperate, tears streamed down your face in your delirium. You needed to touch him, to feel for yourself that it wasn’t your brain tricking you again. It has to be real this time.

His breath hitched as he approached you, the way animal control does a feral dog–cautious and gentle, but still regarding you with a level of distrust. Your struggle subsided with each step he took, until he was finally in arms’ reach. Looking into his blue eyes for the first time in years, your hand trembled as you lifted it to caress his cheek. Soft and warm like you’d remembered. 

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m your–Gemini,” you said. “‘Cause I can–”

“Make duplicates of yourself, they told me. Who are you?”

“Not here, but somewhere else, I'm your partner in, well, everything. We grew up across the street from each other,” you told him. “Your powers showed up sooner than mine, but your mom always said we were a package deal, so when we started fighting crime together, it just made sense that we’d fall in love too.”

“My mom?” he whispered.

“She was the one who came up with the name Gemini for me.”

His gaze softened, his eyes turning cloudy. You recognized that look. Deep in thought, a million miles away, the only place John wouldn’t take you. This one didn’t seem eager to do so either. Did he and his mom not get along here? Was she dead, even? 

He cleared his throat. “Go on.”

“We called ourselves Dawn Patrol because we’d get up before school to do our superhero stuff, and it stuck.”

“How did you end up here, then?”

“I already told them–”

“I want to hear it from you.”

You recoiled a bit. Your story began at the end, and while you managed to tell it to a group of seemingly indifferent white coats, recounting it to the man himself, or some version of him, was almost too much to bear. Still, you pushed through.

Phantom, that’s what he called himself, selfish and conniving with the ability to teleport in the shadows and seemingly shift reality itself. He was a particular menace that you and Homelander could never quite get the upper hand on, the situation imploding when Homelander, your Homelander, tackled the supervillain mid-teleport. The last thing you saw of him was his back as he disappeared with Phantom. 

No one had seen him since. Despite Phantom’s insistence that he didn’t know what happened to Homelander, you kept an irrational, unrelenting grudge against him for taking the love of your life away from you. Guilt and rage fueled you, and in your most recent, and presumably last encounter with your arch-nemesis, you made the same mistake Homelander did, and ended up wherever the hell you were.

“Either you’re telling the truth, or you’re an unprecedented liar,” he hissed through his teeth, grabbing your wrists, “but I believe you.”

A beastial imitation of your first and only love transformed before your eyes over the following weeks. In his absence, your yearning had grown teeth, long and sharp, hungry to tear through flesh and for your flesh to be torn. This new man’s rib cage cracked open to offer part of himself to recreate you. You looked into the crimson void and saw his beating heart, a long-suffering shrine to you as yours was to his, or at least some memory of him. A loneliness you were all too familiar with was already settled deep within him. Why needlessly suffer though a monastic existence any longer?

You, in turn, indulged in him. Allowed your hunger to overtake you and break your involuntary fast as you devoured him. Insatiable, your lips pressed against the skin of this stranger that nevertheless you knew by heart. In your grief, in your anger, you’d pulled him out from the ether. You wondered if you could put him back together as the man you knew he could be, bloody your hands raw clawing back the damage that had been done to him by whoever came before you. 

The first few days, you tried as much, the two of you hardly letting up from your entanglement in his bed. You stared at the mirror on the ceiling, taking him in with the attentiveness of the crowds that gathered around the tragically small Mona Lisa in the Louvre. Then, in the quiet moments, in tones hardly above hushed whispered, he’d ask you questions about this other life and upbringing he never got to experience, pensive at your answers, almost bothered at times. 

Most of his questions seemed to be about his parents, especially his mother. Though your phone had been returned to you, it had no signal, but you were able to show him photos. Some of the last ones of you and John together was at a Fourth of July party in his parents’ backyard. One of his aunts had taken a candid photo of you, John and his parents sitting together at one of the patio tables, smiling and laughing. You had everything documented, from weddings to birthday parties to school days. John always poked fun at you for taking the phrase “take a picture, it’ll last longer” so seriously. 

Now, reflecting on these times with his other, you clung to him as you watched him swipe through this other version of himself’s life. Studying it, silently reflecting on your stories and anecdotes as if to memorize them, be able to recite them by heart.

Despite the distorted period of reunited bliss, you could tell something was off about Homelander. He talked his way around your questions about his own upbringing, never quite giving you a straight answer and occasionally snapping at you when you pressed for more details. Your eyes widened the first time he did so, heart skipping a beat or two, you couldn’t recall John raising his voice at you like that before. Homelander noticed your reaction right away, soothing you with reassurances that he wasn’t mad at you, he could never be.

It seemed like he was mad at a lot of other people, though. He’d go on long rants about people at Vought, this corporation that didn’t exist where you were from but somehow controlled so much of his life and that of every other superhero. Walking around the tower with him, you noticed the way people’s demeanors shifted when he was there, a nervous submission he seemed to bask in but made your stomach feel sour. 

His attempts not to scare you, to put you at ease with the prospect of spending the rest of your life with him were never quite as successful as he hoped. The warning voice in your brain knew something was off about him. You ignored it as best you could, figuring you could manage a way to handle him and chalking it up to the loneliness he was entrenched in before you came along. One night, a rarity wherein you were alone in his suite and finally had a chance to think the situation through, you panicked, hatching a messy escape plan.

Leaving a duplicate of yourself behind in the living room, you slipped out of the suite, walking down the long hallway to the elevator. The tower was so tall that it required switching elevators to get from the top floor to the lobby, and so you made the initial descent to the 50th floor.

The ride down was excruciatingly long, and every time the elevator stopped to let someone in, you felt yourself freeze up. No one acknowledged you at any point during the descent, filtering in and out, minding their own business. 

When you switched elevators, you knew you were in the home stretch. Your heart raced as you pressed the ‘L’ for the lobby, the star next to the button assuring you that the ground floor would be your ticket out of there. By the time you were on the single-digit floors, you were alone again.

At least, you were until you reached the lobby. The doors opened, revealing Homelander waiting for you behind them. You backed into the wall on the opposite side of the steel box, as if that’d do anything to protect you.

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “And where do you think you’re going?”

He entered the elevator, reaching over to press the button back up to the 50th floor. Silence for nearly twenty floors, though you were sure the sound of your rapidly beating heart was deafening to him.

Finally, you spoke. “How did you know?”

“Your duplicate’s pretty convincing, but they don’t have a heartbeat,” he said. 

John had never told you that. Your duplicates were perfect copies of you, your abnormal physical strength sapped to create each one so that they could take damage from attacks in your place. It never occurred to you that they were so blatantly lifeless.

The doors opened on the 50th floor, and instead of going in the next one over to continue the ascent, Homelander pulled you into an empty office. He closed the door, darkness engulfing the room. When you reached for a light switch, he caught your wrist in his hand instead.

“If you have a problem, you talk to me about it. You do not try to fake me out and run,” he hissed. “Do you really think the fucking white coats I saved you from would just let you walk out of here? You’d end up right back in that room. All of those things that he had, the loving parents, the pretty suburban life with your childhood sweetheart that's straight out of a fucking romcom? I didn't get that because of them."

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "You didn't deserve that."

"No," he said, almost shocked at your acknowledgement of how horrific his upbringing was. "I didn't. You're here, now, though, so we're both getting what we want."

Not like this. Not you.

Yet, you were stuck with the hand you had been dealt. This corrupted imitation of the man you loved, who nevertheless was so desperate for the intense emotions you felt for him otherwise that he was willing to believe you despite all logic telling him otherwise. 

The way he spoke about the people back in the lab you’d been held in, as if he knew, experienced what you did and even worse. Saved you from it. Maybe you could try. Maybe that could get you somewhere.

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. Being around him rendered you emotionally vulnerable. He looked just like him, and at times acted almost exactly the same. If you closed your eyes long enough, you could convince yourself it was him. How long could you go on doing that before you walked around blindly?

“Babe, did you hear a word I just said?” Homelander asked.

You looked up at him. “Got distracted, sorry.”

He rolled his eyes, the slightest smile on his face. “I’ll chalk it up to my good looks. I know you’ve been cooped up for a while, so I want you to do a team-up with me tomorrow night. It’ll be Dawn Patrol, just like old times.”

Old times? There were no old times. Not with him. 

Nevertheless, you agreed. “Yeah, it’d be nice to get back out there. Haven’t done it in a while.”

“Once you’re back at it, you won’t even have to think about it, like riding a bike,” he paused for a moment, “I guess.”

His excitement the following day was infectious. You hadn’t done any crime-fighting in a long time, and doing so with him would surely help you ease into it again. He was always the best of the best, but it seemed like here, not only was he deified, but he reveled in it.

When he brought you to his superhero team’s private gym to train, he was almost shocked at how well your powers and fighting style seemed to compliment him. Elation filled your chest. Maybe you’d jumped to conclusions too soon about him. You just had to be more flexible, willing to compromise to make it work. 

You were thrown off upon being presented with a crime-fighting schedule that night. A self-professed crime analytics team explained their methodology to you. When you looked to Homelander in disbelief, he seemed unfazed by the information. Being able to predict crime down to the minute just to bolster careers and social media followings seemed far from ethical, but from what little you’d learned of Vought in the weeks you’d been there, that wasn’t a concern of theirs.

Flying with him again was almost too overwhelming, bringing back memories of you and John in your teenage years. Instead of partying with your peers, the two of you would pick up fast food late on Saturday nights, sitting on suburban rooftops with your police scanner, eating burgers and listening for trouble. He’d grab you by the waist, flying off with you to stop some bad guys. Of course, people complained to your parents that you’d leave chicken nugget boxes and ketchup packets on their roofs in your haste. 

By the time Homelander landed in an alley just a block away from where the crime would supposedly take place, you were crying. 

“You okay? I thought you’d be used to it.”

“I am. It’s just been a while. Brought back a lot of memories.”

He smiled, kissing your forehead. “You won’t have to go so long without flying with me again. I promise, babe.”

You sniffled, giving him a weak smile. “Let’s go get some bad guys.”

“That’s the spirit!”

The next few minutes were silent as Homelander listened for the sound of a bank alarm. Late-night robbery, the crime analytics team had told you, it couldn’t be easier. You weren’t sure what time it was when Homelander grabbed you, the familiar gesture of his arm around your waist making you feel overwhelmed again. 

When he landed, you could see the glass doors leading into the bank had been smashed, leaving shards of glass scattered on the sidewalk that crunched beneath your boots. There’d be three bank robbers, one lookout while the other two took what they could from the vault. You and Homelander already agreed that you’d take on the lookout and then join him in subduing the others.

You hesitated for a moment when you and Homelander split up, but you didn’t let it distract you too much. The lookout froze upon seeing you duplicate, his hand shaking as he pointed the gun between you and your temporary clone. Whichever one he shot, you’d heal fast enough, though you’d get less damage if he shot the duplicate rather than you.

His impulsiveness proved to be his downfall, as your duplicate began to walk toward him, and he pulled the trigger, nearly passing out when the clone de-materialized before him. 

In his moment of distraction, you knocked the gun from his hand, grabbing a nearby desk phone and hitting him in the temple with it. You kicked the gun to the other side of the room before he could reach for it and hit him in the head again. He dropped to the ground, unmoving on the floor.

You set off to find Homelander. The vault was empty when you got there, a mess of valuable and still smoldering scorch marks in the wall where either the thieves had used explosives to break their way in, or Homelander had lasered them into oblivion. Regardless, there was no sign of anyone.

“Homelander?” you called out. 

No response. You looked around frantically for any sign of him.

You couldn’t lose him again, not even this terrifying version of him. “Homelander, where did you go?”

Silence again. Your pounding heart rang in your ears as you turned around, setting off for another part of the building in hopes of finding him. There wasn’t anyone else you could count on here, and for all his faults, he was the only person you trusted. 

Just when it felt hopeless and your brain was about to implode on itself at the sinking notion that maybe he was gone, a loud bang came from the other side of the bank where the vault was. You rushed over without a second thought for your own safety. Besides, the injury your duplicate had taken on your behalf was already healing. You'd do it a thousand times over if it meant keeping him safe.

Homelander stood in the middle of the previously empty vault, the two thieves knocked out, or maybe they were dead. It didn’t matter, because he clearly wasn’t.

“Where were you?” you asked, your voice cracking.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

“No you haven’t. I came over here and there was no one. I called out for you and—“

“And what?”

“I wanna go home,” you cried, clinging to him. “Please, let’s just go home.”

He nodded, his superhuman strength allowing him to scoop you up in his arms with ease. You always felt safe in them, and you pressed your head to his chest, trying to focus on the sound of his heartbeat as he flew back to his suite at the tower.

His heart always beat faster than anyone else’s, having to maintain the life of the most powerful superhero to ever live. It was a heavy burden, though you tried your best to offset it, you sometimes felt too reliant on him. He never made you feel bad for it, neither version of him did.

You were still a bit dazed when he landed, shuffling into his living room and leaning against the back of the couch. He said he had been in the vault, but you knew it had been empty when you walked over to it. You knew what you saw.

“You did great with the lookout. I can help you train more, and we’ll try again in a few days,” he said. “I’ll get the crime analytics team to find us another softball one.”

“Homelander,” you began tentatively, “back there did you–did you do that on purpose? Disappear on me?”

“Of course not, darling, why would I do something like that after everything you've been through?” he asked, his voice soft enough that if you let yourself, you could pretend for a few moments he was your Homelander. “I told you, I was in the vault the whole time.”

“I can’t lose you again,” you said, your voice cracking. “I can’t—“

“You won’t. I’ve always been here. I love you.”

He’s lying, the voice in your head screamed, he’s not your John. There’s something wrong. 

You ignored it, choosing instead to kiss him, to drown out the rational with the feeling of your lover’s lips again. You would take this Homelander over none at all. “I love you too.”

[puppym3]

heartstrings and lullabies chap 3

soft!seungmin x afab!reader

chap 4!

wc: 5.5k (whoops...)

warnings! : smut!, fingering (f receiving), readers implied first time, seungmin is experienced, seungmin is so sweet and soft, secret relationship trope, seungmin + reader hold back a lot, angst at the end, family arguing

a/n: i accidentally got too into it and wrote a lil extra... hope you enjoy! i appreciate all of the love, thank you so much!! I'll combine all of the chapters together when I'm done writing! <3

MINORS DNI!

this is only a work of fiction!

---

“We should take things slow,” Seungmin says, backing away for the fourth time since he’s gotten to my room.

“Yeah, I agree.” I mustered out, unsure if I was mentally back yet when I replied because of the amount of fog in my head from the kisses.

The lingering taste of his kiss still tingled on my lips as we sat there, our breaths still mingling in the quietness of the room.

“I need to calm down,” Seungmin said embarrassed, trying to dismiss himself from the room. I could guess what “calming down” meant and my breath got stuck in my throat again, coughing slightly. Remembering the moment he left the room for a while yesterday night when all of his blood went to other places.

And as much as I wanted to say something, and tell him to stay, I knew that these boundaries were important to him and we should try to take things slow. 

I watched him as he stood up, his movements a bit awkward as if he was fighting with himself to stay composed. His eyes flickered to the door and then back to me, a soft smile playing on his lips despite the clear tension in his shoulders.

"Right," I said, clearing my throat and trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Taking things slow is... good."

Seungmin nodded, his expression softening a bit at my words. "Yeah, it is. I just need to... take a moment."

I could see the faint blush on his cheeks, and it made my heart ache with a mix of affection and desire. He was trying so hard to keep things respectful, and I appreciated that more than I could express.

As he reached for the handle, he hesitated, glancing back at me one last time. "Um, Just… to let you know, I really like you. A lot."

My heart skipped a beat at his words, and I felt my face heat up. "I like you too, Seungmin. A lot."

A genuine smile broke across his face, and it was like the tension melted away just for a second. "I'll be back soon," he said softly before finally stepping out of the room.

As the door closed behind him, I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. The room felt strangely empty without him, and the lingering warmth of his presence seemed to fade away slowly.

I leaned back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Taking things slow was the right choice, but it was challenging. My mind replayed the moments we had shared, the way his lips had felt against mine, the way his touch had sent shivers down my spine.

For some reason, I felt tears welling up in my eyes, a sudden hit of overwhelming emotion. I was so lucky that he reciprocated the way I feel in some way, but he’s right about it being difficult. Maybe it was just the overwhelming feeling of happiness, nervousness, anticipation, and being unintentionally edged over and over again. 

I wiped the tears away quickly, not wanting to dwell too much on the emotions I was feeling. There was a lot to process, and Seungmin and I had decided to take things slow, which meant I'd have to get used to managing these feelings without rushing into anything.

I knew I needed to keep myself occupied. I decided to tidy up my room, hoping the mundane task would help me regain some semblance of control over my racing thoughts.

Just as I was straightening a stack of books on my desk, I heard a soft knock at the door. My heart leapt into my throat, and I took a deep breath before opening it.

Seungmin stood there, looking more composed than when he had left. His eyes softened as he saw me, his face a little flushed and he offered a tentative smile. "Hey," he said quietly.

"Hey," I replied, stepping aside to let him in.

He nodded, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "Sorry that I keep on leaving."

"I understand," I said, smiling reassuringly. 

Seungmin took a seat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the floor for a moment before he looked up at me. "I meant what I said earlier," he began softly. "About liking you. And about wanting to figure this out, together."

I felt a warmth spread through me at his words, and I nodded. "Me too. I want to find a way to make this work, no matter how complicated things might get."

He reached out, taking my hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "We'll take it one step at a time."

I squeezed his hand back, feeling a surge of determination. "One step at a time," I echoed, a sense of hope blooming within me.

After sitting on the edge of my bed for a while, Seungmin hesitated for a while, as if he needed to say something more.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” Seungmin begins, and for some reason my heart immediately drops all the way to my stomach. “But… I don’t think we should, uhm” He looks at me, debating how he should choose his words. “...have sex… yet” 

I felt a wave a relief, but also embarrassment hearing him say it out loud cause I thought it was already implied with “taking it slow”. “I really want to, like… do that, like, a lot, but now probably isn’t the best time.” he finishes off, nervously brushing his hair out of his eyes. His puppy eyes nervously scanned my face to see how I’d react.

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly, quietly accepting his words. “I’ll wait for you.” 

Seungmin's smiled, and he pulled me into a hug. I melted into his embrace, feeling the steadiness of his heartbeat against my cheek. It was a simple gesture, but it evoked such a warm feeling inside of me.

I let him hold me for a moment, listening to his soft breathing and quickening heartbeat.

I let Seungmin hold me for a while longer, savoring the closeness and the comfort of his embrace. When we finally pulled away, he gave me one last lingering look before leaving the room, promising to see me later.

When we had to gather for dinner, the atmosphere was charged with tension as our parents decided to have a family gathering in the dining area. Seungmin and I exchanged nervous glances as we entered the room, trying to act normal despite the many things we were hiding.

I was more upset than anything that baby Yun wasn’t here, I knew if he was here I would have something else to focus on. But he was gone visiting his grandparents for the weekend.

My mom was chatting animatedly with Seungmin's dad, their laughter filling the room. It was clear they were enjoying each other's company, which only made me more uncomfortable.

Seungmin and I sat on opposite ends of the table, pretending to be engrossed in our own thoughts. Every now and then, our eyes would meet, and a silent understanding passed between us.

"So, have you two been getting to know each other?" my mom asked, turning her attention to us.

I forced a smile, feeling the weight of her question. "Good," I replied, trying to sound casual. "We've been getting to know each other better."

Seungmin nodded in agreement. "Yeah."

His dad looked at us with a warm smile. "I was nervous! I thought they wouldn’t make an effort to get to know each other at all."

Seungmin and I exchanged a quick glance, I was suppressing the urge to laugh at the irony.

"Yeah, my daughter isn’t the social type" My mom said, almost teasing at me. 

As the conversation continued, I couldn't help but steal glances at Seungmin. The memory of our kisses lingered in my mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. I could tell he was struggling too, his fingers tapping restlessly on the side of his thigh.

Our parents didn't seem to notice the underlying tension between us, too caught up in their own conversation. It was both a relief and a challenge, trying to maintain our secret while being so close to each other.

At one point, Seungmin's dad suggested playing a board game, and our parents eagerly agreed. Seungmin and I found ourselves sitting next to each other, our shoulders brushing occasionally as we moved pieces on the board.

The game was a distraction, but it also brought us physically closer. Every touch, however accidental, sent a jolt of electricity through me. I could feel the heat of Seungmin's body next to mine, his presence both comforting and exhilarating.

As the game progressed, I noticed Seungmin's fingers brushing against mine under the table. It was a small, discreet gesture, but it sent my heart racing. I glanced at him, and he gave me a subtle, reassuring smile.

His fingers were interlocked with mine, then when it was my turn to go my hand quickly broke apart with his. His hand fell from mine and gently rested on my thigh, his fingers tracing the outline of my jeans.

I felt heat follow everywhere he touched, making me shiver. He finally stopped when his hand reached out to lay on my inner thigh but did not move an inch. It was getting more and more hard to compose myself as he watched my reactions with a careful eye. 

We continued the game, our parents oblivious to the silent communication happening between us.

At one point, Seungmin's dad excused himself to get more snacks from the kitchen, and my mom followed to help him. The moment they were out of earshot, Seungmin leaned in closer to me.

"How are you holding up?" he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.

I shuddered. "I’m…” I let out a quick shaky breath, “Managing. You?"

"Same," he replied softly. "I didn’t realize how hard this would be."

His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I bit my lip to suppress a smile. "Me too."

It was a little thrilling to hide this one thing from everyone, but I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to hold it up.

And I remembered Seungmin’s words from earlier, how were we not going to get physical when this amount of contact was getting me worked up? I meant what I said to him, I was going to wait even if it killed me. 

Two weeks had already passed, and I had stayed true to my word. I kept my hands off of him and he did the same. We would occasionally share a peck or he would give me a back hug when nobody was around, and those intimate moments were enough to keep me satisfied for the moment.

Yun had also been keeping me busy since he had started crawling around everywhere. I had my eyes on him like a hawk to make sure he wouldn’t do stupid baby stuff. 

Seungmin had been beside me most of the time as well. But whenever I had to watch the baby, my attention would only be on the baby (for a good reason). As much as I was frustrated with my mom for going around and leaving us with the baby, I’m glad she gave me a good distraction.

I was cradling Yun for a while, and he had finally gone asleep in my arms. I placed him carefully in his crib when I felt arms snake around my waist and kisses on the back of my neck.

“Seungmin” I whispered out to him, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his embrace. His touch was gentle and I leaned back into him, savoring our one daily moment of intimacy.

“Wanna watch a movie tonight? We have the house alone tonight and we could finally hang out.” He whispered in my ear.

I smiled, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time alone with Seungmin. "Sure, that sounds great," I replied softly, turning around to face him and I couldn't help but lean in to kiss him gently on the lips.

"Let's pick a good movie," I suggested, already feeling the tension easing between us as we settled into the familiar rhythm of being together.

Seungmin nodded, his hand finding mine as we walked together to the living room. We scrolled through the movie options, our shoulders brushing as we debated over genres and actors. Eventually, we settled on a romantic drama, something light and entertaining.

As the movie played, we lounged on the couch, occasionally stealing glances and sharing soft laughs. The comfort of his presence filled me with a sense of contentment.

But once his hand found his way on my thigh again, my mind completely blanked again just like what happened at game night. I felt the tingling sensation and the sudden heat in my body. 

I could see his eyes glued to the TV, but I couldn’t focus at all on what was happening. It wasn’t fair that I seemed to be the only one struggling this entire time when he seems perfectly fine.

As Seungmin's fingers traced gentle circles on my thighs, I could feel my mind growing hazy with desire. Each stroke sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't suppress a soft sigh as his touch moved higher, igniting a tingling sensation that stirred something deep within me. His concern was evident in the way he looked at me, his puppy-dog eyes searching for any sign of discomfort.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice laced with both worry and curiosity.

Instead of answering, a surge of longing and impatience surged through me. Without a word, I moved, pushing him back onto the couch and straddling his lap. I could sense his surprise and uncertainty, his wide eyes locked onto mine as I leaned in, capturing his lips in a hungry, heated kiss. It was as if all the pent-up longing and unspoken desire had finally found release.

His hands, initially hesitant, found my hips and pulled me closer, deepening the kiss with a fervor that matched my own. Our bodies pressed tightly together, each touch electrifying as we explored the depths of our passion. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him against me.

Seungmin responded eagerly, his restraint giving way to the raw intensity between us. His hands roamed over my back, tracing the curves of my body with a growing urgency that mirrored my own. The kiss grew more fervent, more desperate, as if we were both trying to convey days of longing in that single moment.

My own need grew with every passing second, my hands exploring him with a hunger I hadn't realized I possessed. Fingers slipped under his shirt, tracing the contours of his slightly toned body, feeling the warmth of his skin against mine. When we finally broke the kiss, his surprise was palpable, his heavy breathing a testament to the intensity of our connection.

Seungmin's gaze met mine, his breath ragged against my skin. Without a word, he leaned in to trail kisses along the curve of my neck, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. Each touch of his lips was a revelation, a new sensation that stirred me to my core. I moaned softly, unable to contain the pleasure that shot through me with each caress.

His hands tightened on my hips, pulling me closer as he continued to explore my neck and collarbone. The touch was both gentle and possessive, sending my senses reeling. I arched into him, seeking more of his touch, more of the electrifying sensation that only he could evoke.

Unconsciously, I found myself moving against his thigh, seeking some relief from the building tension between us. I gasped as I felt his hardness pressing against me, a physical reminder of our mutual desire. His lips continued their assault on my neck, soft and warm, igniting a fire that burned hotter with every passing second.

Seungmin's hands moved up my body, tracing the curves of my waist and the swell of my breasts. I let out a soft moan as he cupped my breast, his touch sending waves of pleasure through me. The heat between us intensified, the tension growing as we both struggled to control our escalating desire.

Pulling back slightly, I looked into his eyes, seeing the raw passion and longing mirrored in his gaze. His grip on my hips tightened, fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me closer. His lips crashed down on mine again, the kiss rough and demanding. I felt a rush of excitement as he took control, his hands roaming over my body with a newfound urgency.

"Hurry... do something," I pleaded, the words escaping my lips in a desperate whisper.

He didn't need further encouragement. With a swift movement, he yanked my shirt over my head, the sudden exposure to the air-conditioned room making me acutely aware of our heated surroundings. Seungmin's eyes roamed over my bare skin, drinking in every inch of me with an intensity that left me breathless.

His hands moved to my back, deftly unhooking my bra and letting it fall to the floor. He claimed my lips again, the kiss deepening as his hands roamed over my body with purpose. I could feel his hardness pressing against me, a physical manifestation of our shared need.

Seungmin's fingers traced the curve of my waist, his touch sending shivers down my spine. His thumbs brushed against my nipples, eliciting a soft moan from deep within me. Each caress was like a wildfire, spreading heat and desire through every inch of my body.

Seungmin pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hesitation. "Is this okay?" he asked softly, his voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. I nodded, my voice caught in my throat as I struggled to find the words to express the overwhelming desire that coursed through me.

His hands moved lower, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my pants.  I helped him to discard my pants, only leaving me in my underwear, which kind've felt awkward being the only one naked. 

But it didn't matter when I saw his face as he scanned my body, looking at it as if it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever looked at.

Seungmin's gaze lingered on my body, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and desire. He reached out, his fingers tracing the edge of my panties, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. "Can I touch you?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I nodded, "Yes, please...." my heart pounding in my chest as I surrendered myself to him. Seungmin's fingers moved lower, first teasing the fabric, rubbing fingers slowly over my wetness, then slipping beneath the fabric of my panties. I gasped, his touch sending waves of pleasure through me.

Seungmin's eyes never left mine as he continued to explore me, his fingers moving with a slow, deliberate pace that left me aching for more. I could feel the heat building between us, the tension growing with each passing second.

His fingers found my clit, the touch sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I moaned softly, my hips bucking against his hand as he began to circle the sensitive nub. Each stroke sent a wave of pleasure through me, the heat building until I could barely breathe.

The way he was staring at my flushed face, watching my reactions, and making sure he was making me feel good was enough to drive me over the edge. 

One of his fingers finally dipped into me, the sensation building to a crescendo. I could feel my body trembling, my heart racing with anticipation.

"Can I make you cum?" Seungmin asked softly, his voice laced with a mix of desire and concern. His eyes locked onto mine, searching for any sign of hesitation.

I nodded, all I could do was choke out a moan. I couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but feel the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside me. I held onto his arm as he prodded into me at a slow pace

Seungmin added another finger and quickened his pace, hitting the right spot and sending shivers down my spine. 

As the pleasure built, I felt myself getting closer and closer to the edge. I could feel the heat building inside me, my breath coming in short gasps as I struggled to hold on.

Seungmin's fingers continued to work their magic, his touch sending waves of pleasure through me. I could feel my body tensing, my muscles clenching as I fought to hold on.

"For me," Seungmin whispered, his voice rough with desire. "Let go and let me make you feel good."

His words were enough to push me over the edge. I cried out, my body convulsing as I came, my muscles clenching around his fingers. I had never came down as hard as this before, but his fingers were like magic.

He slowly removed his fingers, not trying to overstimulate me. He then hurried off to get things to clean me with and get a change of clothes.

As the pleasure began to ebb away, I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me. My limbs felt heavy, my eyelids drooping as I struggled to stay awake.

Seungmin must have noticed my tiredness, because he gently tucked me into his side, his arm wrapped around me protectively. I snuggled into him, enjoying the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

I wanted to do something for him, to return the favor and make him feel as good as he had made me feel. 

I reached out, my hand finding his hardness through his pants. I could feel his sharp intake of breath as I began to stroke him, my movements slow and deliberate.

Seungmin let out a soft moan, his head falling back against the couch cushions. I could see the pleasure in his eyes, the way his body tensed and relaxed with each stroke. I smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction at being able to give him this pleasure.

But Seungmin's hand stopped mine, his eyes meeting mine with a soft smile. "No, not tonight baby," he said, his voice gentle. "Tonight was about you, about making you feel good."

The pet name “baby” felt so good to hear in my head and I wanted to argue, to protest that I wanted to give him just as much pleasure as he had given me, but the warmth of Seungmin's embrace and the gentle reassurance in his eyes silenced any protest. He held me close, his touch soothing as I nestled against him, feeling safe and cherished.

The room felt cocooned in intimacy, the air thick with the lingering echoes of our passion. I could still feel the aftershocks of my release, a pleasant tingling that ebbed into a deep sense of contentment. Seungmin's heartbeat was steady beneath my ear, a comforting rhythm that lulled me toward sleep.

His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back, his touch a gentle caress that whispered of tenderness and care. I sighed softly, my exhaustion finally catching up with me as I let myself relax completely in his arms.

"Sleep, beautiful," Seungmin murmured, his voice a soft whisper against my hair. "I'll be right here."

With his comforting words, I closed my eyes, allowing sleep to claim me. Wrapped in Seungmin's embrace, I drifted into dreams filled with the warmth of his love and the promise of tomorrow.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room as I woke up. Memories of last night flooded back to me, the warmth of Seungmin's touch still all over my body, and the way he guided me through everything brought heat back to my cheeks.

I felt so happy, but a little upset that I couldn’t do more for him.

The sound of my bedroom door opening abruptly pulled me out of my reverie. It was my mother, her expression a mixture of concern and disapproval.

"Good morning," I greeted tentatively, sensing the tension in the air.

My mother's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the room, her gaze landing on the disheveled bed and my tousled hair. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

I glanced at the clock and winced. "Um, sorry, I lost track of time."

She sighed heavily, folding her arms across her chest. "I understand, but you can't keep disappearing like this. Joon is trying to connect with you, and you're barely giving him a chance."

I felt a surge of irritation at her words. "I can't keep relationships? Maybe I learned that from you."

My mother's face hardened at the accusation, her lips pursed tightly. "This isn't about me, it's about your future. You need to start thinking about your responsibilities."

I shook my head, frustration bubbling up inside me. "I'm trying, okay? But it’s kind’ve hard to think of my future when we’re constantly moving around, how can I keep relationships, mom?”

My mother's expression hardened further at my retort, her brows furrowing in displeasure. "Moving around is no excuse. Plenty of people manage to maintain relationships despite changes."

I stood up from the bed, suddenly feeling defensive. "Maybe if you'd consider staying put for once, I wouldn't feel like every connection I make is temporary."

Her eyes flashed with hurt, but she quickly composed herself. "Life isn't that simple, and sometimes we have to make sacrifices for our future."

I crossed my arms, feeling the weight of frustration and resentment building inside me. "What about my future? What about what I want?"

"You're still young," she replied sharply. "You need stability, discipline. I’m trying to provide that for you."

"Yeah, by dragging us from city to city every few years!" I shot back, my voice rising. "I can't even have a stable friendship, let alone a relationship!"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "You need to learn to adapt."

I shook my head, feeling tears of frustration welling up. "Adapt? How am I supposed to adapt when I don't even know where we'll be next year?"

"We're doing what's best for us," she insisted, her tone firm. "You need to think beyond your immediate desires."

I took a step closer to her, my voice trembling with emotion. "Maybe I wouldn't need to cling to every fleeting moment of happiness if I felt like I had some stability."

Her expression softened slightly, a flicker of regret passing through her eyes.

I turned away, blinking back tears. "I just want to feel like I belong somewhere."

She reached out tentatively, but I pulled away, needing space to breathe. The weight of our argument hung heavy in the air, words left unsaid but emotions raw and exposed.

After a moment of tense silence, she spoke again, her voice softer now. "I know you're upset, but I promise I’m trying to set roots."

I turned back to face her, my anger fading into resignation. "I know."

Her gaze softened, a trace of maternal concern in her eyes. "Give Joon a chance. He cares about you, even if it doesn't always feel that way."

I nodded, feeling drained by the emotional turmoil of our conversation. "I'll try."

She turned and slowly closed my door, leaving me to be alone as I wiped away the tears from my eyes.

There was only one place I wanted to be right now, back in Seungmin’s arms, where I felt understood and cared for, or back in the nursery, surrounded by Yun and Seungmin, where everything felt simpler and more comforting.

As I sat alone in my room, the weight of the morning's argument still heavy on my heart, I couldn't shake the feeling of being torn between two worlds. On one hand, there was Seungmin, whose presence brought me comfort and a sense of belonging I rarely felt elsewhere. On the other hand, there was Joon, my mother's choice for stability and a future she deemed secure.

I buried my face in my hands, trying to sort through the jumble of emotions. The memory of Seungmin's touch lingered, a warmth that contrasted sharply with the cool, calculated words of my mother. I wanted stability, yes, but not at the cost of sacrificing every connection that meant something to me.

I felt a strong urge to hear Seungmin’s voice, I needed to hear him, I missed him so much. I feel like he’s the only thing that would cheer me up at a time like this.

I picked up my phone, fingers trembling slightly as I scrolled through the contacts until I found Seungmin's name. With a deep breath, I pressed the call button, hoping beyond hope that he would answer.

The phone rang once, twice, and just as I feared he might not pick up, I heard his voice on the other end. "Hello?"

"Seungmin," I breathed out, relief flooding through me at the sound of his voice. "It's me."

There was a pause, then a soft, comforting reply. "Hey... Are you okay?"

Tears welled up again, my voice wavering as I struggled to keep it steady. "Not really. I just... I needed to hear your voice."

"I'm here," he reassured me gently. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

His words were like a lifeline, grounding me in the midst of turmoil. "I miss you," I admitted quietly, feeling a rush of vulnerability.

"I miss you too," Seungmin replied softly. "I’m not home but, do you want me to come?"

The thought of him being here, of his comforting presence, was exactly what I needed. "Yes, please."

"I'll be there soon," he promised, before hanging up the phone.

I clutched my phone tightly, the reassurance of Seungmin’s promise echoing in my mind. The weight of the morning’s argument felt a bit lighter now, replaced with the anticipation of seeing him again. I knew I needed to pull myself together before he arrived.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up and walked to the bathroom connected to my room. Splashing cold water on my face, I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Red-rimmed eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, it was clear I had been crying. I took a few moments to compose myself, running my fingers through my hair and tidying up my appearance as best as I could.

The moment I stepped back into my room, I heard two soft knocks at my door.

Opening the door, I was met with his concerned gaze. He looked as if he had rushed over, slightly out of breath, but his eyes softened as they met mine.

"Hi," he said gently, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, but the tears threatened to spill again. "Better now that you're here."

He pulled me into a tight embrace, and I clung to him, feeling the tension melt away. "I'm here," he murmured into my hair. "I've got you."

For a few moments, we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, finding solace in the shared silence. Finally, he pulled back slightly, looking into my eyes. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I sighed, nodding. "It's just... my mom and I argued. She doesn't understand how hard it is to lose your dad and then all of a sudden never have a place to call home again, and she thinks dating a bunch of guys will somehow fix our problems."

Seungmin's expression softened with understanding as he listened. He guided me over to the edge of the bed, where we sat down together, he scanned my face and wiped away the stray tears. 

“What if… she’s really in love with Joon?” I said, my voice shaky, “What does that mean for us..?” 

Fear was in my eyes as I scanned his face, as he was thinking of how to respond.

Seungmin held my gaze for a long moment, his brow furrowed in thought as he considered my question. He reached out, gently brushing his thumb across my cheek, wiping away the last remnants of tears.

"I don't know what it means for us," he began softly, his voice carrying a mix of concern and reassurance. "But I do know that whatever happens between your mom and my dad, it doesn't change how I feel about you. I like you a lot, and I want to be here for you, no matter what."

His words eased some of the fear tightening my chest. I leaned into his touch, seeking comfort in his presence. "I'm scared," I admitted quietly, feeling vulnerable.

"I understand," Seungmin replied, his voice tender. “But I’m not giving you up, that’s not an option I’d ever consider.”

I placed a soft kiss on his lips  He smiled, and I knew everything was going to be alright.