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#I... may have got a little angsty with this one
salmonberrypj · 5 months
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Escapril Day 9 - Bad Habit
“I can do without anything,” Saint Augustine tells me as I brush my teeth.
“Anything?” I ask, in a soft tooth-pasted accent.
“Yes anything,” he says. “Violent shows, the theatre,” he looks at me in the mirror, “Women.”
“How?” I ask. I spit out the toothpaste, wash out my mouth, and return to the mattress on the floor. The homework glares up.
Saint Augustine is back in the doorway.
“I simply hate that my flesh is weak and I want earthly things,” he says, which is absolutely what I thought he was going to say.
See, that’s the problem,” the paper is so convoluted, so long, forms of formants from fricatives to floating tones I can’t place on vowels. Yes, I’ve tried. “What happens when you hate wanting earthly things, but not enough to quit wanting them?”
“Evidently you don’t hate it enough,” he says.
I’m not getting anywhere with the formants. I set them aside, pull up some essay prompts. I’ve never had an opinion in my life. “I wish I did,” I say. “I wish I hated wanting anything, so much that I only ever ate miso soup and drank eggnog. I wish I hated it enough to never feel tired. I wish hate was the strongest curse word I’d ever used, and the strongest thing that had ever burned and intoxicated me, and I never sat down to watch TV.”
“Good,” he says.
“Those things never pay off, though,” I say, the petulant sort of vain that’s almost comic relief.
“Then hate things more,” he suggests.
I can’t think of a second paragraph idea for this prompt. “You’re giving lackluster advice for a guy who wrote thirteen chapters on the subject,” I accuse.
“You’re being vain and foolish,” he says.
“You’re being a pompous, holier-than-thou old man.” I want to paint my nails, but I keep needing my fingers for something.
“I am,” he agrees, “Holier.”
“Break it up, break it up,” says God. I don’t recall at what point He got into my room. Maybe I’d feel more awake if I did some pushups. “You’re both perfectionists. That’s My job.”
“But I’m not a perfectionist,” Saint Augustine and I both answer, “Otherwise I would be doing everything right!”
-PJ
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alexiroflife · 1 month
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Hello! May I request an angsty toji fic where reader finds out she's pregnant (post megumi) and she knows toji doesn't want anymore children so she just kinda leaves with little to no explanation? Maybe just a small note saying things aren't working out. It's up to you if it will be a hurt/comfort. Idk you don't have to do this request I don't want to overload you! I seriously love your writing. The way you right the character just warms my heart. I especially love ur hiding an Injury fic it was SO SO SO GOOD. 🩶🤍🖤
“promise”
toji fushiguro x reader
Synopsis: see above
to sum it up: you think it’s better to run away than to be the one to get hurt
WC: 5,668
Warning(s): angst, suggestive themes, yelling, pregnancy, mentions of abortion
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You stare down at the plastic tube clutched in your trembling hands in awe, eyes blown with shocked grief as you peer closer to get a better look, as though those two bright pink lines could have been a trick of your vision.
Unfortunately, however, your vision remains just as crystal clear as it always has been. As you stand in your cramped apartment bathroom, illuminated by a flickering fluorescent gaze shining down from above, horror befalls you.
You’re pregnant.
You should have known sooner when you began feeling queasy every morning, taking trips to either your or Toji’s toilet to hurl out the contents of whatever swam inside your stomach. You always tried to be silent if Toji was around, for he slept like a dog that could not be woken even if a meteor struck earth, and you had been remarkably exhausted. You aren’t even sure if there is a word to describe how sluggish your entire mind and body had been feeling, but you wanted to rule out the very obvious answer to your problems before exploring it.
You begin to panic, your heart pounding in your ears and throat and every inch of your body you could feel the pulse, eyes blurry over the positive test. You’re conflicted. You don’t know how to feel. On the one hand, you would have been jumping for joy to learn that you are starting a new life with your boyfriend, to step into a new chapter of your lives and to provide his children with another sibling.
But hell, the celebration is far too naive and implausible to be had. The sage eyed man has told you time and time again that he does not wish to have anymore kids, that the ones he has are enough and he is not equipped financially or mentally to care for another brat. In honor of those wishes, you’re on the pill, and consequently, Toji has taken the opportunity to plow his load inside of you time after time after time.
And you really, truly should have known that with Toji’s uniquely abled body, what was meant to serve as a barrier and a means of contraception did not work.
You feel like throwing up. What would Toji say? What would he do? What are you supposed to do? Should you tell him, fill him in on what’s going on to risk rejection and abandonment, a nasty habit that Toji had to work to rid himself of when he met you? Would he even care? Would he listen?
You know Toji to be a very tough man, despite the softened interior he attempts to hide in others’ company that is only displayed for you and for his kids. If he has always been adamant about one thing, it’s been to never have kids again, to focus on where he fucked up before and to pour his attention into the little family he’s grown, the one that he has now.
His voice echoes through your head like the gong of a church bell striking upon the ear’s of a sinner.
“Hell, I already got my hands full tryna get Megumi through his teenage years. What the hell is another child gonna do for us?”
“That shit’s fuckin’ expensive. Not to mention, I’d have to baby proof the house again. That’s another expense.”
“If I was capable of givin’ you y’er own, I would, doll. But I ain’t cut out for it. You know that.”
You don’t even know why he would stress the matter so often. You suppose he’s caught the way your eyes linger on a mother tossing their giggling baby up and down into the air, innocent pools of joy beaming down at her each time it reaches the air and lands in her secure hold. Or maybe he’s seen the way you care so deeply for Toji’s kids as though they are your own, despite telling you when you first got involved with each other that he did not expect you to step into their lives in anyway - and yet, you have done that and more. You know how the kids must struggle each day with the trauma of losing their mother so early on, and you never wanted them to think that you were trying to step in as her replacement, but you love them so clearly, as much as you love the man who created them.
Which leads you to your next concern. How would the kids react?
It’s one thing for you, as their father’s girlfriend, to wander into their lives and help navigate them their teenage hood alongside the dark haired man, but to introduce an entire other child only leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
They may be crushed. They me turn to hate you, to despise how you have contaminated the life they have worked so hard to rebuild after numerous tragedies. And would Toji agree with them? Would he turn his nose up to you, that scowl of his melting over his harsh features as he shuns you just as he shunned every other woman who came after his wife and before you. Would he leave you? Would he kick you out of the world that has become your own because you failed to live up to your promise, though it technically isn’t your fault that you are pregnant now but it feels as though it is?
You can not stand the thought, of the man you love turning his once loving gaze stone upon the sight of you, of him pushing you further away, permanently, in the same manner that he tried to when he realized that he was falling in love with you, of watching Megumi and Tsumiki turn their backs to you as though the past four years of your lives had never happened, banning you from their acceptance forever more.
Tears well in your gaze, interfering with your vision. This can not be happening, you think to yourself, everything has been going so well, and now this? This is going to ruin your relationship with Toji for good. Even if you were not in a committed relationship with him, you assume that the idea of any woman getting impregnated by Toji would have been thrown away. You would be thrown away, just like all the others who gave Toji their bodies but not their hearts.
Not the way you have.
Your heart clenches thinking of just how much you love Toji and the kids, of how you would be willing to lay down your own life for the sake of them as Toji swears that he would for you all in return. Even so, despite the commitment to you that a man who swore never to be committed to accustomed, this would be going too far.
…You’re not even sure if he would love you anymore.
Now that you’re pregnant with his child, a child he never meant to have with you, you assume you will mean nothing to him any longer. In his eyes, you will simply become the slut that he took a chance on by a whim, carrying something he would never call his own. You believe the old Toji will resurface, the one who claimed not to care, the one who shoved women out of his bedroom before the sun rose in the sky, the one who often failed to remember to pick his kids up from school, the one who would no longer meet you at eye level but look down upon you, frown upon you for being so clumsy.
You know Toji is the one who did this, but this still feels like it is your doing. Like somehow, you trapped him and he now has no choice but to break free from the steel cage you have barred around him with your conception.
Your fingers clutch over the plastic, your eyes scrunching closed to release a fresh set of tears that cascade over your cheeks and onto the test. You can feel yourself mourning your relationship already, you can feel it slipping through your fingers, see it fading in the distance until it becomes nothing but a bittersweet memory that you can not determine as reality or a figment of your imagination any longer.
You tilt your head, bringing the test to your forehead as you think, grieve, cry. You mull over your options; you could hide this from Toji, get an abortion and never think of it again or you could tell Toji and lose him forever.
You open your bleary eyes, lashes decked with dewy tears, as another idea dawns upon you. You could leave, leave before Toji and the kids have a chance to leave you.
It’s a cruel thought, you think, especially abandoning those children without any proper explanation for them, but what else are you meant to do? You’d be doing them all a favor if anything by taking your leave without them having to be plagued by the knowledge of your unplanned pregnancy, of what they may view as a scheme to destroy their family in your new baby’s wake.
The thought kills you to even entertain. You had promised those kids that you weren’t going anywhere, that you’d stay with them for as long as they allowed you… but this is different. This is not what any of you had in your cards, how you believed your futures to go. Toji wants simplicity at home while he works through chaos through his occupation. He wants security, warmth, safety for you, Megumi, Tsumiki, and no one else. He would never welcome another child. You believe he’d be caught dead before approving of your pregnancy.
And therefore, you know what you have to do.
After taking a few more tests to ensure that the readings are accurate, which they are, you pledge to walk away. You pledge to leave the only man you’ve ever truly loved, the strongest family you’ve known, and the slim possibility that despite Toji’s wishes, he may accept you.
But you don’t want to take that chance and risk the humiliation and unplanned heartbreak. You’d much rather take matters into your own hands, and plan the shattering of your soul yourself.
You don’t sleep all night, for you’re too busy drafting about twenty different letters to Toji. Crumpled loosleaf paper litters the floor beside your bed as you try to think of how to best write down everything you want to say. You go through pages and pages until you are finally satisfied with the result, and the next morning, you slip the envelope into his mail slot and prepare to pack your life away.
It is late Sunday morning when Toji rises from his slumber. The first thing he does is lean over the sheets and drape his arm toward his nightstand to read your daily good morning text - only he finds there isn’t one. With pinched brows, he takes his phone to unlock it and visit your contact. Nothing.
The time reads 12:35 pm. Normally, you’re up and at it or even banging down his door by then to wake him. Maybe you’re just sleeping in?
He goes to give your cell a call, but nothing. Not only that, but your phone is also on do not disturb mode. His gut immediately swells with the suspicion that something is wrong. The dark haired assassin supposes he’s going to pay you a visit this afternoon as soon as he checks on the kids to ensure that they are alright.
His bedroom door opens with a creak, and he calls out to the teens gruffly through a yawn. When they don’t respond, he’s truly growing concerned.
He rounds the corner to prepare to head for their rooms when he finds Tsumiki and Megumi at the dining table. His brows furrow, his pace slowing as he takes in their faces. Tsumiki’s lips are pressed together tightly and the muscles in her face are scrunched as though she is about to cry, while Megumi stares ahead with empty eyes and a hardened exterior.
Toji frowns with quirked brows, approaching his kids. “What’s wrong with you two?”
His brunette daughter looks up at him with glassy eyes and wrinkled chin, lashes fluttering while Megumi does not bother to look at his father. Instead, he brings Toji’s attention to a torn envelope and a thick packet of papers pressed beneath the sixteen year old’s palm. Wordlessly, Megumi slides it toward him, brows slanting.
Toji, perplexed, looks between the papers and his children’s troubled faces. What is this letter? Overdue taxes? An eviction notice? That can’t be possible, because you had ensured that Toji and the kids’ place was secure long ago.
He crunches the papers in his hands and picks them up to read. The first thing that catches his eye is your scribbling handwriting, and the following words that send his heart plummeting to his ass:
This isn’t working out.
Toji whips his head up, baffled, and when he meets Megumi’s gaze again, his eyes are ablaze with resentment.
“What the hell did you do?” he growls.
The green eyed man is not even thinking before he’s dialing Shiu’s number, asking him to watch the kids for the next hour or so, and running out of the apartment after throwing rather unconvincing words of assurance over his shoulder to his kids, who are still with disbelief - Tsumiki with devastation and Megumi with rage, for surely his father pushed you away.
Toji does not bother finding a ride, electing to run to your place which is only a few blocks away. You two were just discussing moving in with one another, combining households, and this is what you spring onto him? Not even for him to stumble across first, but his kids who look up to you and love you like their own mother?
Oh, he’s fuming, a rush of emotions taking over his mind as it fuels his speed. The letter you wrote is still crunched in his fist, whipping through the air as he makes his way to you.
Dear Toji,
This is not working out.
But before you rampage and get angry with me, please let me explain. Let me explain how much I love you, how much those kids mean to me, and how every day I wake up I want to be greeted by all of your smiling faces. For the rest of time, forever. You are undoubtedly the only man for me, and I truly believe that. I know you may think I’m bullshitting because of how the beginning of this letter contradicts what im saying now, but it’s true. I have never loved another person the way I love you, and while it scared me at first when you were so stubborn and full of anger that you misdirected onto me, I stayed and I waited and I helped you and I’ve loved you through every single moment, ever week, every month, and every year. You brought purpose back into my life, and I can picture you scoffing because you’d say the same, but I mean it. You, Tsumiki, and Megumi are the best things that have ever happened to me. I love you all so much.
But in this case, that love is not enough.
I hate to be doing this to you, to the kids, but I have no other choice. Things aren’t going the way they used to, and it’s not your fault but mine. I’m the reason. And it is tearing me apart to know that and simultaneously know what I have to do in order to keep you and the kids happy. Stable. I wish I could explain to you more why I am doing this, but I can’t. Not just because I am dying to picture you reading this, but because I truly can not say. I do not want to ruin you guys’ image of me. While I think that’s a selfish thing to say because who knows how me leaving is going to hurt you all, you would not understand even if you knew the reason behind this.
By the time you are done reading this, I will be gone. I’m going away because as long as I am not with you all, I can’t stay here anymore. I am staying with my mother while I get my travel plans arranged, because I know how you worry when you do not know where I am or if im safe. I should be gone by Friday.
Please do not come see me. I have made my decision, and you will only be hurting us more by trying to stop me. I won’t be stopped.
Kiss and hug and apologize to Megumi and Tsumiki for me. I hope you find someone who fills the role of their mother, someone who knows how Megumi likes to do his homework in the silence of his room with no music or anything, completely isolated so he can focus. Someone who knows how to fix Tsumiki’s eggs properly - to add extra butter to the sides when you fry them so the edges get crispier. Someone who won’t try to feed Gumi’a demidogs because he hates when people assume they can coddle up to them upon first introduction. Someone who cares for the wholly the way I do and always will.
And you. I know how stubborn you are. I know how angry you probably are at me right now, and I will miss that about you, but please do not let that interfere with the possibility of falling in love again. Beneath the layers of grit, standoffishness, and indifference, you are a man with a big heart. For me. For your kids. For those you love and seek to protect.
You say you aren’t a good man, and while that may be true to you, you are an amazing partner and you’ve already become an amazing parent. I’ve seen you grow, and I am so in love with you and so proud of you. I know you’ll be okay without me. It maybe take some time, but you’ll adjust to what’s best. I promise.
With all the love that could possibly be harbored in this world, you are everything to me and that is why I have to go. I wish you every happiness this planet can offer you, and I know that without me, you can begin to find joy again.
Love,
Your doll
You had believed to time this perfectly, for you know that Toji usually does not wake until one, so soon as you are finishing up packing, you are trudging down the stairs to the leasing office to inform them that you will be moving.
You push open the door to the first floor, the breeze hitting you gently, and you round the corner only to be blocked by the last person you wanted to run into during this time.
Your eyes widen as you look up, the burly figure you have grown oh so familiar with over the years heaving as though enraged, ivy eyes crowding over slim pupils as Toji glares down at you, an image of indescribable fury.
Your heart drops and your words die in your throat. “T-Toji?” you whisper, horrified of an outburst. You are rattled by fear, having been so unprepared to walk into this. You did not put it past him to chase you down. But you figured that you’d be at your parents by the time he woke. Then, you could have at least told them to tell him off at the door.
But no. Instead, here he is, six feet and then some of bulking mass as he takes quick, deep breaths that expand the entirety of his chest.
You shift. “What are you doing here-“
“What the fuck is this?”
Toji swiftly, yet aggressively, lifts the papers in his hands, now damaged by his travels and his grip, shaking it firmly with the question. You gulp, lowering your eyes.
“Toji, I told you not to come…”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he swears firmly, and you jump, looking to see if anyone is around to hear you, as the two of you are standing outside your complex.
“We shouldn’t be- let’s just go inside,” you go to grab his arm, but he tears it away. He stares at you as though you have burned him, singed the heart in his chest from the inside out, and he is so unforgiving. So unforgiving before he hears directly from your mouth what this is about.
“I’m not doin’ shit until you tell me what the fuck this is, (Y/n),” he demands, his hand moving the papers about passionately with his speech, and you feel your heart hammering again. This is not how things were supposed to go. You are not supposed to be seeing him right now. “Cause I refuse- I fuckin’ refuse to believe that you’re breaking up with me.”
Your eyes gloss over as you look down at your feet, unsure of what to do or how to handle this confrontation. You can’t do this. You can’t, it’s too much. It’s too hard.
“…I am,” you mumble.
Toji steps forward, leaning down to get a peek of your face, his expression so angry that it worries you. “What?”
“I said… I am.”
“Uh uh, you better say that shit with your chest if you can write a whole damn letter about it,” he growls, fucking further as you continue to turn away. “Look at me,” he barks, and you cringe.
“Toji, don’t yell at me!” you shout back.
“What else do’ya want me to do, huh?” he throws his hands up. “How else do you expect me to react to this bullshit?! You’re leavin’ me? After everythin’ we been through, after everythin’ you and the kids’ve been through, you’re leavin? Are you fuckin’ serious?”
He takes a swift glance at the papers, the very sight sending him into a spiral, before he’s heatedly looking back down at you.
“I don’t buy this shit for one second. No. You’re not leavin’. Not in this world, or the next.”
“I am, Toji, the quicker you accept that, the easier it’ll be for everyone!”
“Easy?” he winces as though the prospect pains him. “You call this shit easy? You call up and tryin’ to abandon me easy? You call the kids waking up to your letter and reading it at the table before I saw it easy?”
Your face falls. “…what?”
“Yeah. You fuckin’ heard me,” he sneers. “Megumi and Tsumiki read this shit first. First thing in the morning, they see a letter about how the woman they love is leavin’ ‘em, just like their mom did, and for what?”
You close your eyes, his words stinging you as they cut through. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true, ain’t it? Y’er leavin’ us, (Y/n), and you didn’t even have the decency to say why!”
Guilt crowds you, like a blanket of darkness consuming you from overhead, and as Toji stands before you completely torn apart by your letter, you see the fear in his eyes, the sadness, the unspoken plea for you not to go.
You try your best to keep your composure as you turn away again. “I told you, I can’t tell you.”
“Fuck that,” he lifts the letter and tosses it to the ground with a thud. You gasp, watching it slam to the concrete pavement.
“Toji!” you exclaim.
“You think you can just leave without me comin’ to hunt you down and see your face so I can figure out what the hell is goin’ on? You must not know me at all.”
“Why do you always have to be so aggressive about everything?!”
“Of all fuckin’ things, (Y/n), I think I got a right to be aggressive about this. You were gonna leave without sayin’ goodbye!” he tosses his arm out to the side with the exclamation, brows twisting and teeth bearing. “Is that what our relationship means t’ya? You think you can just toss us aside?”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” you beg, a lump forming in your throat as the two of you stand face to face, arguing without a car about who will see you.
“Then tell me,” he shouts. “Cause you’re not givin’ me shit to go off of!”
“I told you already, I can’t,” your lips quiver.
“Then our relationship is nothing to you.”
“No, Toji.”
“Clearly it ain’t, cause I’d think it’d be worth an explanation if you’re runnin’ away!” you frown and shake your head, turning to walk back into the complex when Toji cuts you off, moving in your way. “You don’t think I know you? You don’t think I see it all over your face that somethin’s got you scared, and y’re takin’ off because of it? You think I don’t know what that looks like, (Y/n)? I did that shit. I did it all the damn time before I met you, and hell, I tried to run then but you wouldn’t let me, so what the hell makes you think I’m gonna let you now?”
“This is different,” you say shortly, afraid to reveal the tremble of your voice to the man before you. You keep your gaze down as you try to go around him again, but to no avail. He steps in your path. “Stop!”
“I ain’t stoppin’,” he says gravely, keeping his eyes to yours though you try to avoid contact with them. “Not until you spit it out. I’ll be damned if I got another broken home cause y’re fuckin’ scared.”
“I said stop!” you try to find some bass in your voice, but against your will, it falters when you yell. Toji eyes you carefully, reaching his hand out to grip your shoulder and steady you into place.
You scoff, attempting to pull away, but it’s no use. The dark haired man is everywhere, keeping you from walking away.
“You talk to me like the grown ass woman you are,” he tells you sternly, stepping in. “You use that voice I know you have, and don’t you ever let me catch you writin’ a letter to me about how you wanna break up instead of comin’ to talk to me. Y’understand?”
You exhale shakily, lips pressing together and brows curling. “I can’t.”
“Y’re still not tellin’ me why you think that.”
“Because I can’t, Toji. I can’t tell you. It’ll- it’ll fuck up everything!” you break, and Toji feels the pit in his stomach shift as he looks over your aggrieved expression, depicting the same exact things he feels.
“(Y/n),” he calls your name firmly, the sound of it on his tongue only inspiring the urge to cry more. You continue to shake your head though Toji isn’t exactly speaking, and his green eyes wander you with frustrated concern. “Y’scared of what I’ll do if you tell me?”
You freeze, slowly peeling your eyes to look at his, his face tense with grief. You stare at him for a moment, mouth gaping like a fish as all of your insecurities that talked you toward this ledge run through your mind once more.
“Don’t look surprised,” he says. “I know you like the back of my hand, and I know that you knew I’d be over here to stop ya.”
Your frown deepens, and this time as you look at him, you see every second of your future that you were quick to stomp dow. You see the unbridled, unfiltered love he holds for you as well as the blood curdling fear of letting you go.
“You have to understand,” you whimper. “I know how you’ll react, I- I can’t do this to you. You have to let me go.”
“What the hell could be so horrifyin’ in that head of yours to make you think that I won’t stick with ya through hell and high water?” he grits out, searching your swollen hues of (e/c) hesitation. “You’d do the same for me.”
“I know, but-“
“There’s nothin’ else to say. I ain’t leavin’ until you spill, and when you do, y’re comin’ with me.”
You look at him, pained. It’s a trap, you think. If Toji only knew, he’d be running for the hills instead of trying to track you down.
“Out with it, now.”
You can’t. You can’t tell him. He’ll leave you, he’ll reject you, he’ll turn you away, he’ll never let you see the kids again.
“(Y/n)!”
“I’m pregnant!”
The earth seems to freeze and time seems to slow. You scrunch your eyes, anticipating the worst to come as Toji takes in your words, his tensed expression melting slowly.
You don’t open your eyes to see his reaction. You keep your head ducked and your fists closed as the white noise of nature flutters into relevance. You’re trembling, terrified, and Toji can not move but instead proceeds to stare at you, stunned.
His words about not wanting any more kids run through your mind again as you await his response, and the suspense kills you as you do. You can feel his grip on your shoulder slacken before tightening again, and you are terrified.
He’s going to leave you.
You are quick to step away when the sentiment arises once more, Toji’s hand falling from you arm. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I know that you don’t want any more kids. I know, an I thought we were being careful, but- I took five tests. They’re all positive.”
“You’re pregnant?” he echoes, and you still. You knew it. You knew this would happen.
“I told you, Toji,” you exhale. “I told you that I couldn’t tell you, and now everything’s a mess.”
He twitches. “Hold on-“
“Don’t tell me all of a sudden you want kids,” you snap. “I know how strongly you feel about it.”
“So instead of talkin’ to me, you were gonna leave? Knocked up? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“What other choice do I have?!” you cry. “You don’t want more kids, and if I kept it, it would only be a nuisance to you. And Megumi and Tsumiki?”
He scrunches his face. “What about ‘em?”
“How do you think they’d feel if the woman you’re dating after their mother died surprised them with a new baby? They’d be crushed!” you say shakily as salty tears well in your eyes again. “I can’t overstep your boundaries. I just can’t. It’s easier for me to go.”
“And do what, (Y/n)? Raise a kid on your own without any help?”
“I can’t bare you leaving me!” you suddenly confess, tear striking past your cheek.
Toji examines you and frowns. “What are y’talkin’ about? You’re tryin’ to leave me!”
“So I can prevent the inevitable from happening,” you huff. “I’m okay with it. I’ve made peace with everything. That’s why you need to just let me go-“
“After everythin’, you think I’d throw you away because you’re pregnant with my kid?” Toji says incredulously. You falter, for you had been so sure of his reaction before. “You think that low of me?”
“No, but I want you to have what you want.”
“What I want is you, you fuckin’ idiot,” he hisses. “All I ever wanted was you, and I can’t fuckin’ believe you’re tryin’ to take that away from me.”
You furrow your brows, confused. “…You’re not mad?”
“Girl, I’m livid,” he scowls. “Not about the damn kid, but because you assumed what I would say before comin’ to me.”
“Toji, you have to understand that I was trying to look out for you.”
“There’s not lookin’ out for me or those kids or makin’ them happy if you’re gone, (Y/n),” he bites. “Who th’fuck put that idea in your head?”
You stammer, tears proceeding to flow down your face as you reel in the reality of the situation. “I… I just thought-“
“I don’t wanna hear it.”
Before you can respond, his hand is gripping your wrist and he’s tugging you toward him into his chest. You shake when you fall into him, listening to the pace of his heart rapidly beating against your ear as he breaths quickly against you. Large palms smooth over your head and down to your waist as he holds you tightly, and you notice how desperate his grip is. He’s holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, as though you’ll fly away if his hold is not tight enough.
He tucks his head into your neck, fingers grasping into your shirt, and suddenly the animosity of the moment prior is gone. You’re still trembling, leading Toji to hold you tighter to him.
“Can’t believe you tried to leave,” he murmurs into your hair. “Christ, (Y/n) you’re tryin’ to gimme a heart attack. The fuck is goin’ on with you.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest, looking off sadly. “I thought you’d be upset about it. I didn’t want you to know.”
“I should know about any and every single thing that’s goin’ on with you, y’hear me? This ain’t no exception.”
A weight flutters from your shoulders as you sink into Toji’s head, silent tears streaming for the life you almost sacrificed. “What are we gonna do?”
“I dunno,” he mumbles. “But we’ll figure it out. As a team. Alright?”
You nod meekly. “Okay.”
He groans, pressing himself impossibly further to you. “That letter… fuck, don’t do that shit. Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that. Without you, I ain’t shit- pregnant or not. And those kids would adore another sibling if you were bringing it into this world. Don’t say that shit about them again either. They need ya. We need ya.”
“I’m sorry,” you whine again, Toji’s hand stroking over your back soothingly.
“It’s okay,” he grumbles. “We’ll figure it out.”
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beingsuneone · 11 months
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I BET You Think About Me
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SYNOPSIS: being Theo’s girlfriend is a dream… until you find out why he asked you out in the first place.
FANDOM: Harry Potter
PAIRING(S): Theodore Nott x fem!reader
RATING: PG
CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Enzo, Blaise, Draco, Mattheo, Pansy, Snape
GENRE/AU: Snape’s Daughter!Reader, Asks you out cause of a bet, kind of angsty, kind of fluffy, slytherin!reader
WORD COUNT: 2.6K
WARNINGS: swearing and kissing.
A/N: agh. It’s 3 in the morning. Enjoy. May have a tiny bit of pacing issues but it’s fine
DEDICATIONS: the polls who decided they wanted Theo while I decided I was gonna post Mattheo and Rhysand instead.
CREDITS: n/a
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…Six Months Ago….
——————————————————————————
“You can’t do it, Theo.” Draco says plainly. “If she’s anything like her father she won’t be able to feel that kind of emotion.”
Theo shakes his head. “She’s still a girl.”
Mattheo snorts, Enzo sputters. “That’s a bit sexist, Theo.” Enzo says, looking over at Y/n L/n.
She’s Severus Snape’s daughter and completely untouchable. Theo hasn’t seen a single guy going out with her in the whole six years they’d been at hogwarts.
That might be because of her father.
“Draco’s right.” Mattheo says. “She’ll never fall for you.”
“I’m gonna prove you guys wrong and you’re gonna owe me a shit ton of money for it.”
…. One Month Ago ….
——————————————————————————
Mattheo stares at you as you walks away. “Damn, I guess you were right.” Both him and Draco reach for their wallets but Theo waves them off.
“I don’t want it— any of it.” It felt for him wrong to take the money from the bet. Theo had fallen for you just as hard— if not harder— as you’d fallen for him.
Hell, Theo would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked him.
“What do you mean?” Blaise asks incredulously. “You won the bet.”
Theo furrows his eyebrows. “Whatever, I don’t want the money.”
They all stare at him.
One, two, three minutes of silence before Mattheo blurts out: “Oh my god. Theo fell for her.” He starts to laugh, and the other boy's eyes widen.
“Wow. That’s a little bit pathetic, Theo.” Draco teases.
Pansy slides in beside Blaise. “Wow. Famous playboy Theodore Nott fell for someone?” She snickers. “Who?”
Theo deadpans. “What do you mean who?” You are Pansy’s roommate after all, Pansy should better than anybody.
Her face falls. “You don’t mean y/n. do you?” Theo nods and she gives him an exasperated look. “Theo! You literally only dated her to win a bet!”
“Yeah, I know!” He retorts. A beat of silence, then, “I shouldn’t have done that.”
“You have to tell her.” Enzo cuts in. “If you truly like her, it isn’t something you can keep secret.”
Theo nods his head absentmindedly. “I know, I know. I’ll tell her soon.”
He didn’t want his new relationship to end before it ever began.
….Present….
——————————————————————————
Today, you woke up late, stubbed your toe on your bed and then spent the ten minutes you had to get ready looking for your damned potions book.
When you’d finally found it, threw on your uniform and got your hair into some sort of presentable, you rushed out your dorm and down the hallways as fast as your feet would take you.
Your class was on the opposite side of Hogwarts and you were already ten minutes late.
In your haste, you aren’t watching for other people in front of you and run straight into someone.
“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim frantically, picking up your books as she picks up hers.
She looks familiar but you don’t know her name.
“No, it’s okay— Oh.” Her faces twists into a scowl when she meets your gaze. “You’re Theo’s ‘Girlfriend’” she airquotes as she says ‘girlfriend’, causing you to narrow your eyes at here.
You furrow your eyebrows. “Uhm, yeah, I am. Why did you say it like that?”
She crosses her arms. “Because you and I both know that he doesn’t actually like you. You’re not his girlfriend.”
“And who, exactly, are you?” You ask, annoyance settling in your chest.
She looks down at you, a cocky expression written on her face. “You should probably just stay away from him, you know that, right?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Really, he’s going to be mine so I don’t even know what you’re doing.” She waves you off, as if she truly believes this.
You shuffle your books around in your arms and shift your weight into your other leg. “You do know that you’re not his girlfriend, right?”
“Whatever.” She shrugs, and you still don’t know her name. “Doesn’t matter if he calls you his girlfriend, it’s not like you’re a threat anyway.”
What does she mean ‘not a threat’? You feel like that’s a sentence better used to describe her considering, you’re Theo’s actual girlfriend. “What is that supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously but still relatively calm.
She gives you a mock sympathetic expression. “Oh, Sweetheart,” She starts, taunting you with each syllable. “You didn’t really think someone like Theo would settle down for someone like you… do you? I mean, he’s all parties and good times and you’re… well, you can’t even dress yourself properly.”
She looks you up and down, from your half-untucked uniform shirt to your loose tie and your unwrinkled skirt. You’re not usually this messed up. “Clearly, I do, because he did.” You pause, sigh deeply and roll your eyes. “Why am I even entertaining this conversation?” You turn away from her, preparing to tune her out and walk away.
She tuts, shaking her head. “Because you obviously know you mean nothing to him— after all when your relationship starts with a bet, I don’t think it’s ever been super stable.”
This makes you stop and turn back to her. “A bet?” You say it slowly and the words taste awful on your tongue. “What bet?”
She scoffs-laughs and smiles evilly. “Oops, did I say too much?”
Theo chooses this moment to walk up behind the two of your . He slides his hand around my waist, letting it rest there as he stands beside me. “Are you okay? You’re super late.” He asks, looking you over. His eyes flit over to the girl who was talking to you and his nose scrunched. “Why are you talking to Tracey?”
Tracey, that’s her name.
I don’t think he likes her too much.
Tracey opens her mouth to respond but I cut her off and begin dragging Theo away. “I don’t even know, Theo, let’s go.”
I can feel Tracey’s glare until we’re well out of her line of sight.
Jealous.
……
You can’t get Tracey’s words out of your head. You know it was a tactic to rile you up and, you suppose, it worked but you had this horrible feeling that maybe she wasn’t lying.
Asking Theo about it though? That was hard; you didn’t want him to think you didn’t trust him but you also didn’t want to get upset before you knew whether it was true or not.
You decided to ask one or two other people before Theo. Pansy Parkinson, was first. She’s been your friend since first year but she hung out with Theo’s group long before you ever did.
“Hey, Pansy.” You say airily. She looks up at you and smiles.
The bed creaks as you fall down onto it and sigh. “Can I ask you a random question?” You ask, fidgeting with the corner of your blankets.
She looks up at you expectantly but also with a good deal of worry. “Yeah, of course; What’s up?”
She shifts in her spot at the end of her bed, turning her full attention to me.
“Did you ever… I don’t know,” you stop, trying to find the correct words. “Did you ever hear anything about Me, Theo and a bet? While you were, like, hanging out with them.”
Pansy looks down at your fidgeting fingers and then furrows her eyebrows. She thinks about it for a minute, and her face drops so slightly I almost don’t catch it. “Oh, y/n…” she trails off. “He didn’t tell you?”
Every muscle in your body locks up. “He didn’t tell me what?” You don’t think you really want the confirmation now that you know it’s coming.
Pansy stands and then sits down next to you and pulls you into her in a side hug. “When Theo started trying to get with you it was because of a bet.” She stops but you just gesture for her to continue. “… I wasn’t actively apart of this conversation so I only got the gist of it but I was there.”
“What was the bet.” You say, with your eyes hot and your throat restricted. Your tone makes it seem like it wasn’t a question.
“The boys bet him that he couldn’t make the next woman he saw fall in love with him by the end of the year.” She gives your a sad smile. “I guess the next woman was you.”
What. The. Fuck. You’re gonna kill him, because he obviously won that goddamn bet already. You give Pansy a quick squeeze and then stand up. “I need to go talk to him.”
Pansy nods and walks back to her own bed, waving bye as you walk through the door.
Your vision is a bit blurry and your hands are shaking with betrayal and anger as you storm away from the girl’s dorms and right through the common room to the boy’s dorms.
When you reach his door, you knock loudly, despite it being late.
Draco answers. He looks you up and down and then turns his back halfway to you. “Theo, your girlfriend is here.”
Theo appears a moment later, an easy smile and his piercing eyes that you want to love so badly right now. He gently moves you back a bit and steps out of the dorm. “Hey, Baby, what’s up?”
You shudder at the pet name and his face drops. “Oh, I don’t know, Theo.”
He pulls you to the other side of the hall and keeps his hands on your arms, comforting both yourself and him. “What’s wrong? Did somebody do something to you?”
The worry on his face seems so genuine, you almost want to believe the bet was a lie— but you’re not that stupid.
“Yeah, Theo, someone hurt me.” You pause. “It was you and your fucking bet.”
He freezes. “Shit. Who told you about that?”
You don’t want to— no, you can’t look in his eyes. “That girl, Tracey, and then Pansy filled in the finer details.” You’re arms are crossed now and he can’t hold you like he was before. “Is that seriously the only thing you care about right now— actually, obviously it would be because I’m just a bet, right?”
He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him. “Actually,” you continue. “I don’t want to hear it— just, have a good life, Theo. I’d say we’re over but I don’t think we really ever started to begin with.”
You walk away before you second-guess yourself and ignore as he calls your name. He doesn’t run after you, which you’re equally glad for and disappointed by.
God, you don’t think your heart has ever hurt this bad.
…..
You haven’t seen Theo in class for the whole week after you ‘broke up’; you’ve seen glimpses of him outside, always smoking, or eating in the Great Hall but it’s like he’s intentionally missing every class you have together.
He probably is.
He shouldn't have that right. You’re the one who gets to avoid him, he doesn’t get to avoid you.
You’re the one who got played like a violin and ended up battered and bruised.
You don’t see him for most of your days, but, when you do— when you look at him, his eyes are always already on you.
As a result the other Slytherin boys glance at you while he stares, because of how intensely he does so. You can feel his eyes burning holes into you at all times.
You try your best to ignore him as you stand to leave the Great Hall.
A boy stops you near the entrance, you think you recognize him. He’s the same year as you, and pretty nice as far as you know. His name is Lucas, you’re pretty sure.
“Hey.” Lucas says warmly. “How are you?”
He’s a bit close, and you’re sort of backed into the wall. You laugh awkwardly. “I’m alright, um, how are you?”
He smiles. “About the same,” he looks behind him and then back at you, same easy-going smile that isn’t easy the way Theo’s is. “Anyways, I was wondering… since you broke up with Nott, maybe you’d wanna go out sometime? With me?”
“She doesn’t.”
Lucas’s shoulders jump at the sound of Theo’s voice and he backs away from you and spins to look at Theo, whose standing there with a dangerous look on his face.
You glare at him. “Maybe I do want to.” It’s a challenge and Theo knows it.
Lucas sputters. “You know, I actually realized I’m busy, so…” he scrambles off after that you’re left with Theo.
You scowl at him. “Theo, what the fuck?”
“He’s not good enough for you.” He shrugs like he knows what’s good enough for you. Mr. Bet-Winner.
Your heart aches in your chest just looking at him. “And how would you know what’s good enough for me, Theo? because you sure as hell weren’t.”
He scowls now. “I treated you like you were a fucking princess, Y/n, all he would’ve done was treat you like a piece of ass.”
You huff. “A princess, Theo? None of it was even real!” You spin to walk away but Theo catches your wrist and pulls you back; he slips his other arm around your waist and pulls you right to his chest. Your faces almost touch.
Your breath hitches like the traitor that it is.
He pulls your hand up to rest on his chest, where his heart beats hard and erratically. “Does this feel fake to you?” Theo’s fingers dig lightly into your waist. “Do you honestly think that all of that— everything we said and did— meant nothing?”
His breath fans across your face.
Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he’s the ice bucket that can save you— but your pride and anger are like the fires of hell; irreparable.
“You took a bet to make me fall for you, Theo, and lucky for you, you won it. How much was I worth, huh?”
He replies almost instantly. “I didn’t take any money, Y/n.” Theo breathes deeply and you feel his chest rise and fall, forcing yours to do the same.
“You— what?” You can feel your resolve cracking, the hope leaking through that somehow you were wrong.
“Let me explain the full story.” He waits for you to give him confirmation; you nod and he continues. “Yes, it started with the bet, and yes, I had never planned for it to last. It was cruel and mean, and I’m sorry. But the thing is, I didn’t anticipate that I would end up falling in love with you right back.” The words feel like a kick to the heart.
“But, on the other hand, how could I not? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and you’re intelligent and funny, you laugh at all my stupid jokes. You love potions more than any other class and you’re really good at it too.” He stops. “Y/n, you’re perfect and I’m so, so sorry I never told you— or, even worse, that I did it in the first place.”
Your heart skips several beats. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Oh.” You’re at a loss for words.
He just looks you over, trying to assess what’s running through your mind like he always does. “Please forgive me, Y/n. I love you so much it hurts.”
You pull away from him and he reluctantly lets go, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
“You’re serious?” You ask quietly. “No bets this time? Nothing you haven’t told me?”
He shakes his head, giving you the saddest, puppy-dog look, unintentionally.
You’re silent for another long moment before, finally, you say: “you love me?”
Theo looks into your eyes. “God, yes.”
“Okay.” You say softly.
He straightens. “Okay, you’ll get back together with me or Okay, I don’t forgive you?”
You hold up one finger and he seems to understand because he pulls you back into him so quickly and presses his lips to mine; you kiss him back, and kind of stand there, kissing, for a long moment. Probably longer than you should’ve.
But you wish he never had to stop.
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All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.
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hatchetno1 · 8 months
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frustration and anger.
creepypasta/mh x reader in which they get frustrated or angry, or, in BEN's case, are frustrating themselves. word count: 2.1k cw: abuse, descriptions of anger, arguments/quarrelling.
EJ
EJ doesn’t often get angry.
in fact, it’s hard to even frustrate him. Even when faced with particularly difficult patients to suture up—ahem, Jeff— he shows no sign of being fazed.
well, perhaps that’s because he’s used to living with Jeff and his reckless, barbaric antics.
but when he does get frustrated, it’s like a gradual intensification.
you like to split his frustration into three phases.
phase 1: EJ starts to seem a little off. Quieter than usual, less responsive, and more distant. Almost as if he’s in his own world, deceptively peaceful.
phase 2: EJ starts to show actual signs of being frustrated. You notice that it is at this point he may start to snap lightly at others, but with you, he tries his best to keep it to a minimum.
phase 3 is the climax before the drop. On occasion, he may raise his voice slightly and openly express irritation. But he always drops, hard and fast.
“I am so sorry, Y/N, I am so sorry,” he whispers, rubbing circles gently on your back. Though he has to bend over quite a bit (he’s a gentle giant at a height of 6’6 or about 2 meters), you find it to be very soothing that his frame envelops the entirety of yours.
oh, but that doesn’t mean he’s incapable of getting angry.
no, the anger you heard in his voice was undeniable as he roared at another member of the household to stay the fuck away from you.
you’d startled at the sheer sound of it, and quickly those trembles descended into violent shaking as you cried—his roar was simply not…human.
you flinched as he picked you up, just as gently as was the anger intense in that dreaded noise he made, a stark contrast in behavior, a jarring change in your body, mind and soul.
but other than that, you knew your darling EJ was back.
he plopped you onto his bed, surrounded by his sweet yet musky scent, nuzzling your neck and your face.
“I’m sorry”s were whispered countless times in your ear that night as you dozed off in the safety of his arms.
jeff
gotta put a trigger warning on this one. you know what to expect, but just in case you don’t, TW: Jeff is literally a murderer with abusive tendencies and anger issues.
at the start of your relationship, Jeff had been…well, to say the least, not the best partner.
he often got mad at you, whether it be keeping him waiting or spilling a cup of water.
yeah. spilling a cup of water.
but you understood why he was the way he was. he just couldn’t help it. but that didn’t mean you were going to stick around for it, no matter how much you loved him.
one day after a particularly huge argument, you found him crying in his room. his sniffles were unmistakable, but you knew you’d have to pretend you hadn’t heard from ten feet away.
turns out, angsty little Jeff here wasn’t completely unaware of himself.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he had sobbed as quietly as he could. “I know I’m a bad boyfriend, I know, I keep lashing out at you and I’m so sorry.”
your relationship could have very well ended that day if you hadn’t found Jeff crying on the floor.
but even though he’d hurt you so many times, you took him back into your arms.
and so you taught him to manage his anger, though it took you immense effort, energy and bravery.
he’d always help, though, by reminding you it was okay to yell back at him. you chided him lightly for it, saying that it’d just cause a back and forth.
“oh, right. my bad. sorry, doll,” he had said with a sheepish grin.
today, you are proud to boast that you trained your bloodhound boyfriend to be a tame dog. hell, he even does whatever you tell him to now, albeit sometimes reluctantly.
but he understands that if he loves you, he must make sacrifices upon sacrifices. you did that for him.
now it is his turn to sacrifice himself for you.
masky - tim
it’s not really uncommon that Tim gets angry.
but his anger is almost always the quiet kind.
he will “hmph” and huff lightly, a mild kind of anger you both can still joke about, though his face will redden at it.
you can’t help it though, the sass he gives you when he’s lightly frustrated is too good to let slip past.
oh, but when his anger gets loud—
it’s no longer a harmless little nip.
it’s been directed everywhere. everywhere, his teammates, the table, the card game he’s losing a bit too embarrassingly to Toby who’s being an unbearable little ass about it.
but never you.
okay, it was one time.
but Tim decided it was one time too many. (as he should)
he’d raised his voice at you, more so out of frustration rather than anger.
and you flinched.
and oh, how that little flinch broke his heart.
he shut up immediately, gathering you into his arms, whispering “oh, I’m so sorry, darling”, and “you’re okay, you’re okay”.
he never did it again. ever.
now, when you both get angry at each other, it always devolves into stupid little giggles and kicking.
hoodie - brian
Brian doesn’t really get angry, nor does he get frustrated.
normally, at least.
something shines in his eyes when he is defied, a shadow of a grin, a curl of the lip—
you spend a couple days investigating this, defying him little by little.
“Y/N, could you pass me the water?” “No.” and you’d say it with a cheeky smile on your face to match this strange expression on his.
it evolved into much greater things, “Y/N, come over here for a bit.” “Nope!”
“Y/N, help me up.” “Nope!”
your gleeful defiance doesn’t have a complete zero effect, either. with each silly little “nope”, the glint in his eyes grows brighter. and you know that the cup you’ve slowly been filling the past few days is about to overflow.
it’s one fateful day that you happily defy him once again, and—
oh. something’s grabbing at your jaw, and your lover’s face is so close to yours.
he smiles so gently at you, so purely. but his grip on your jaw says otherwise.
firm like iron, reprimanding, but not harmful or venomous. you know he isn’t going to hurt you, but oh, he isn’t letting you go either.
“Y/N,” he says calmly. “You’ve been a little more uncooperative than usual.”
the shiver it sends down your spine isn’t one of fear. excitement, rather.
he lets you go, but guides you to the bed. “Sit,” he commands.
so you do. what else are you to do when your lover commands you so well?
“Good girl.”
so you never say no to him again, not when it comes to harmless favors.
Brian does not get angry or frustrated…at least, not like the normal person does.
toby
Toby becomes a very bitter cynic when upset, spitting sarcasm wherever he goes.
his BPD only makes it worse. his relationship with Tim is already strained as it is, with the latter trying his best (as much as a man with anger issues can), and his relationship with Brian being almost entirely carried by the older man.
and his relationship with you, oh his sweet vogel, his darling dove— he doesn’t know what to think of it. some days he lets loose around you, tickling you and blowing raspberries against your cheeks, and others he’s withdrawn, curled up into a ball in his bed, and so you dive in with him, nuzzling him against his sheets long overdue for a change.
but if it’s neither of those, he’s lashing out. sometimes you can’t even look at him when he walks into the room bringing dark clouds over the atmosphere. that’s when you know you can’t look up at him.
and when you make the mistake of looking up, your smile meets a scowl.
“what are you looking at.” he’ll spit, and then storm off, as if he can’t stand your eyes on him.
and it’s true, your eyes gaze at him with such gentleness, he can’t bring himself to stare back sometimes. especially when he’s in a bad mood, because he breaks inside as he sees his own eyes burn the love in your eyes, reducing them to ashes of fear.
“vogel,” he’d whisper at night, lying next to you in your bed. “i’m sorry.”
he apologizes so much and so often you no longer make a big deal out of it, but this time, his soft whisper is laced with such heavy guilt, your arms move before your mind thinks, pulling him into a soft embrace.
oh, but this bad mood is nothing compared to his jealousy.
Jeff gets close to you? Jeff is suddenly on the ground, blood leaking from his head and EJ hurriedly dragging the former away, admonishing him about not messing with Toby’s precious human.
Tim comforts you about Toby’s outbursts? suddenly he’s against the wall, Toby growling and spitting in his face. if he can’t be there for you, then no one else gets to be there for you either. though, he knows this is selfish.
if he could help it, he’d let you go to whomever you wanted for comfort. but oh, his heart aches so.
and his jealousy is nothing compared to how angry he gets at himself, bashing the walls of the manor, crying out at night, because he can’t be there for you like a normal boyfriend.
he doesn’t know this, but you’re in a corner too, muffled sobs, tears, nose dripping and all.
so at night, you crawl back into bed before he notices you, and lie awake till he comes back.
as his breathing settles and his snoring begins, you hug him just a little bit tighter, your sweet vogel with broken wings.
ben
you have to admit, BEN is really, really freaky.
in the way he plays his games, the way he treats his archnemesis Jeff, in bed—oops.
but particularly, in the way he seems to have an endless tolerance for things that would usually upset someone.
he just. fucking giggles.
“aww, my sweet Y/N is so cute when she’s mad~”
context: he pissed you off and you’re currently in the middle of admonishing him with your whole heart and soul.
conversely, you’re the one who gets mad right back at him.
within the hour, he presents you with a tiktok with two cats that says: me when i’m venting and all my bf does is make jokes
he cackles to the ends of the earth and proceeds to make even more jokes
frankly, when the topic of frustration comes up with BEN’s name in the same sentence, you pretty much just think of him being the frustrating asshole in the relationship.
“BEN, give me my fucking phone back.”
he’s dangling it over your head, using the fact that he’s a floating apparition that can somehow interact with physical objects to his advantage.
once, you got so frustrated at him that you cried.
thankfully, he had the decency to pause, panic, and reflect on his actions.
“oh.” five seconds passed and your crying didn’t get better (what did he expect?). he repeated himself. “oh.”
“actually say something, you idiot!” you sobbed. and this is what snapped BEN into action. (you can’t believe you actually had to tell him to comfort you.)
“oh.” then he realized he’d just been saying “oh” like a broken record. “um.”
so he wraps you up in a blanket like a burrito, and holds you close to his chest.
“i’m sorry.”
“promise not to do it again?” you look up at him with your best puppy eyes.
“…i can’t promise.” you can tell he’s holding back a cheeky grin.
you whine and hit him lightly.
but you know very well that he loves you; this frustration merely comes with him as a package.
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graveyardcuddles · 5 months
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The early stages of Astarion's romance as he's just beginning to fall for the player are so precious to me. There are so many lovely scenes/moments with Astarion's romance throughout the game that it's really hard to pick a favorite. Obviously, the final romance scene in the graveyard is incredibly beautiful and makes me weep, and the conversation you have with him after defending him from Araj is brilliant.
But honestly, the one scene I keep rotating in my head, even months post game release, is the scene where he propositions you for the second time. I love how it's both incredibly angsty and also painfully sweet to me? I love the silly flirting he does, I love the fake-ass manipulative "I love you," he give you (that might have made me a lil mad first time I played). And I especially love how much you can read between the lines in those moments. Personally, I'm a big believer that Astarion definitely has at least a bit of crush on the player at this point, if not already actively falling for them. The "I love you" might not have been 100% real in the moment, but his responses for when you both accept and reject his offer are very telling.
A lot has been said about how he seems to be genuinely disappointed when you turn him down the second time. And I think he is a bit disappointed, has a bit of a hurt ego probably. But mostly he seems very self-reflective. He mentions how he got on his back so many times for so many people and none of it was memorable or enjoyable, unlike with you. That's such a vulnerable thing to admit, something that he doesn't necessarily need to confess to Tav in order to manipulate them. It's like he's trying to grapple with the feelings himself. That subtle pause and look in his eyes right after he wishes us goodnight? He wants to connect with us in a non-sexual way SO BADLY but just can't feel safe enough to at this point.
When you accept his offer, he plays it off cool at first. But I love how right before the fade to black he says: "There you are. Now you're all mine and I'm all yours...At least until morning." He's literally thinking about how long you two can have this time alone together. And his cute little "Let’s see where the night takes us~" with this little happy sway and smile he does it's like...he's so eager to just have this time with us. He might still be trying to "seduce" and manipulate our feelings at this point, but he's so obviously just happy to be spending time with his favorite person.
The feelings were complex and obviously may have felt tainted by his plan, but I feel like it's all a part of him learning to enjoy intimacy again. Which eventually leads to him learning to enjoy non-sexual intimacy with his partner in Act II and III. Idk I just think watching all the stages of him falling in love and learning to be worthy of love is so neat.
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skyahri · 6 months
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Arranged Marriage |Zuko X Reader| HC
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Summary: Caught up in his personal conflict, Zuko completely neglects his marriage.
Warnings: Arranged marriage, forced marriage, whatever. Mentions of violence. Angsty Zuko and reader. Fem pronouns.
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You'd married Zuko a little over a year into his reign as Fire Lord. You're the oldest daughter from a noble family, and the council decided it was best if Zuko married someone well liked by the community.
He didn't take it well. He was still hoping Mai would come back to him, and you being there completely obliterated those chances.
Not that there was a shot to begin with. Mai had made it abundantly clear that she wanted nothing to do with Zuko, even if she admitted to still having feelings for him.
Your relationship was staged to be perfect in the eyes of the people. Young love against all odds sort of thing.
The marriage ceremony was beautiful. Your robes were elegant, the flowers were perfect, and even your soon-to-be husband was handsome.
Zuko was charming towards the guests, really selling the story and gaining a lot of trust with his people. He was awkward but personable, something everyone ate up.
But he wasn't like that with you.
As soon as the two of you were away from public eyes, he didn't so much as look your way.
You slept in different rooms and ate at opposite ends of the table. He excluded you from as many duties as he could, stating something about him not wanting to concern you.
Life in a palace was pretty isolating. The only people you could talk to were servants, and even then, your topics were extremely limited.
You'd taken to the gardens as much as possible. It felt nice to be outside and even better to see the plants and animals.
Tending to the flowers was one of the few things you were allowed to do without constant eyes on you. The lonely atmosphere felt intentional instead of forced.
But after a year of this, not even the newly budding flowers could heal your disdain. Your once bubbly exterior had been chipped away by the dread and disappointment that lingered in your heart.
You were truly just a shell of your former self by this point.
There was no change with Zuko. He'd made no effort to get to know you or even just not hate you. Any attempt you'd made in the beginning to soften the relationship had been put out the moment it left your lips. It seemed like public pleasantries would be the extent of your marriage.
You'd long given up on trying to befriend the older women who waited on you. They had no desire to be anything more than the people who got you through the day.
You'd given up on trying to sneak away with the kitchen staff to the market. They feared being held responsible for you, even if you claimed to be plenty capable of taking care of yourself.
All that was really left to do was to just stay quiet and look pretty. The sad fate of the Fire Lord's wife.
You'd been laying in bed all morning. It was one of the few days where nothing was planned. No meetings, no guests, no events- nothing.
Well, at least you thought.
"Miss Y/N, Lord Zuko has requested your presence. We must get you ready immediately."
They'd dragged you out of bed and stuffed you into a pair of your nicest robes. They're doing your hair up and rushing to cover your face in makeup.
"Why am I being summoned?"
"The Avatar and his friends have arrived. They were the ones to request you."
"I see."
It made sense. You had met the Gaang at your wedding, and they were everything you'd expected; kind, loud, and passionate. Just like Zuko was said to be.
At the time, they'd promised to come by often, but you hadn't seen them since. You'd heard something about the rebuilding of the air temple and having some unexpected issues arise, so they just hadn't had time until now.
You met Zuko at the front gates. His friends arrived just after, allowing the servants to take their things to their rooms. Without a word, Katara grabbed your arm and dragged you away with the other girls. You turned back to see the same happening with Zuko and the boys.
They pulled you all around the surrounding area. For the first time in a long time, the dread started to fade away.
You'd bought some new incense, hair pins, and seeds for the flower beds. They were small purchases in comparison to the others, who had gone all out with new clothes, trinkets, and a heap of spicy snacks for Sokka.
You'd suggested several times over the last few hours that it was time to head back to the palace, but only now that it was growing dark did the trio actually listen.
Just as you had begun packing up, a string of explosions started on the next block and made its way towards the plaza you were in.
Toph was quick to make a stone barrier, but that didn't stop the cloud of soot from staining your skin and clothes.
A group of men had emerged from the smoke and revealed themselves to be Ozai supporters. Not everyone was pleased with the fundamentals Zuko was running the country on, so rebels had started causing a bit of an uproar.
Katara, Toph, and Suki did their best to take the men down swiftly, but that didn't stop you from getting injured in the process.
Your forearms had been severely burned when you'd covered your face from an attack. Katara offered to heal you, but it'd have to wait until you got back to the palace where her spirit water was.
The trip back was uneventful. Some of the local guards stationed in the city had insisted on escorting you guys back, which at this point you couldn't deny.
Apparently, word had already gotten back to Fire Lord Zuko, who was waiting at the front doors of the palace for your arrival.
He immediately stepped forward and picked up your hand, letting the scorched fabric fall and reveal your burn. He did the same with the other and sighed.
"Please give us the room."
You watched as everyone filed out of the room, the guards towards the exit and your friends towards the south wing.
"These are severe,"
He cupped your face in his hands and tilted your head so he could get a good look. His thumb swiped over some of the soot on your face.
You were confused by his actions, but the pain from your burns created a bit of a blur in your mind, keeping you from thinking too hard about it.
"The others couldn't protect you?"
"They did what they could. I apologize for the hassle-"
"Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault."
You opted to stay silent. You weren't sure what to say. This is the longest conversation you'd had in private since you'd met, and you were finding it hard to navigate.
It was silent for a minute. The vibe was awkward, and you desperately wanted to hide away from all of it.
His face contorted slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn't. You didn't pry. It didn't feel like your place to ask.
"Why don't you head to your room for a bath, and I'll have Katara meet you in there once you're done."
You nodded and made your way down the corridor. You stripped down and opted to just toss your clothes in the trash. Between the ash and scorch marks, there was no saving anything.
The second the water touched your wounds, you winced. Tears pricked your eyes as you watched small bits of charred skin go down the drain. The pain quickly went from a sharp sting to almost mind-numbing. You sat down and let the water just run down your body while you waited for the brunt of the discomfort to pass.
In your hazy state of mind, you hadn't heard the knock on the door, so you were surprised when Zuko entered in much more casual clothing.
When he saw you hunched over on the shower floor, he didn't say anything. He moved to the side of the tub and went to touch you, but you weakly swatted his hands away.
"I'm not comfortable with you being in here whole I'm naked."
"I'm your husband-"
"You're a stranger."
Ouch. Harsh but fair, and he knew it.
"Look, I know I haven't been good to you over the past year, and I'm sorry. We can talk about it more when you're feeling better, but for now just let me take care of you."
Satisfied with his response, you stopped resisting his help. You let him wash your hair and scrub your skin. His touch was gentle despite how rough his hands were.
He never once made you feel uncomfortable. He was thourough but never lingered. It was almost as if this was a normal occurrence.
When he was done, he offered you a towel and left you alone in the bathroom to get dressed. When you entered your bedroom, Katara was on your bed, but Zuko was nowhere in sight.
"Just me. Sorry to disappoint."
"No, no. I'm glad you're here."
You sat in front of her on the bed and let her examine your burns. She positioned your arms for easy access and opened her canister. You watched the water glow and the skin slowly heal itself. It was amazing, nothing like anything youd seem before.
"So," she broke the silence, "Has he warmed up to you at all?"
You were surprised by her words. You weren't sure how much they knew or what all you should say. Last thing you wanted to do was incriminate him.
Sensing your hesitation to respond, Katara clarified her question.
"I know everything, at least, from his side. You can be honest with me."
"Honest?"
"Honest."
A small smile crept onto your face.
"I think you're friend is an ass."
"I couldn't agree more."
You told her everything; the loneliness, the isolation, the lack of, well, everything in your relationship and life. She listened, something you're eternally grateful for. It felt nice just to get it off your chest instead of suffering silently.
"Today was the greatest day I've had in a long time. I got to leave the palace and talk to people and for once it felt like my husband didn't hate me."
"Zuko doesn't hate you."
"Could've fooled me."
"He doesn't hate you. Just talk to him. I know he has a lot to say, and it seems you do as well."
Once your arms were healed good as new, Katara left your quarters and returned to her own. You'd crawled under the covers and passed out, completely exhausted from the day.
The next day, you took Katara's advice and decided to speak with Zuko. You woke up early, before the sun had risen and made your way to his room.
He was surprised to see you, much less in your nightwear at such an hour. He invited you in nonetheless, where you then entered and decided to sit on his bed. You patted the spot in front of you, and he hesitantly sat.
"Katara said we should talk."
"Okay."
Sensing that he wasn't going to be the one to initiate anything, you decided to get the ball rolling.
It was a long conversation. Zuko confessed a lot of things, mostly about bitter feelings towards life and guilt over his actions. He apologized for everything and listened to everything you had to say. He made a lot of promises to be better.
He stuck to his word. He began including you in anything you were welcome to. Dinners became more personal, and eventually, you started sleeping in his room like a proper married couple.
By the time team Avatar had visited again, things had visibly changed. You were both happier, and your once fake marriage had become real. You meshed into the group just fine, making the pseudo family that much bigger.
All thanks to a simple conversation.
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yeonzzzn · 6 months
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pleaseee im begging for your next sunghoon one-shot to be toxic hoon. maybe an exes to lovers type of situation where he's losing his shit seeing you finally move on shdhjwjd 🧎‍♀️
I hope this is what you were looking for anon🤭 this is sooo angsty but I hope you enjoy it anyways 🩵
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unsteady: park sunghoon
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pairing: sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 2.6k
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“I hope one day someone will love me as much as I loved you.”
Those were the last words you said to him as you stormed out of his apartment. Slamming the door in his face and leaving him alone in his living room.
Sunghoon stared at the door, counting down the seconds until you’d walk right back into his apartment and into his arms, apologizing for the fight, apologizing for breaking up with him.
But you never did.
He stood at the door for a good ten minutes before he finally realized you weren’t coming back.
It was the first time Sunghoon was actually scared of losing you. Scared he’d never see you again. Hold you again. Kiss you, take you to his bed, take you to your bed.
For half a second Sunghoon had regrets, but shoved it down with a smirk on his face, “She’ll be back.”
It’s been almost a year since you last saw him or spoke to him. You never once contacted him about the stuff of yours that still lingers in his apartment or your favorite hoodie you left in his car. You didn’t have the heart to try and get it back. Too afraid you’d fold right back into him.
Sunghoon was toxic, manipulative, and gaslit you daily. Was he a bad person? No. He was actually and honestly, a really good guy? Absolutely. You fell in love the moment you met him. Sunghoon had a reputation at college. The cool guy who slept with any girl who batted their pretty little eyes at him. The guy who was at every party, you’d never see him not at one. The guy who held a smirk on his face the entire time around his friends as they walked around campus.
But with you? He wasn’t that guy. He was sweet, loving, caring, and soft. He was the guy who worked at the local animal shelter to take care of the abandoned animals. He was the guy who would curl up in bed with you in his arms as he reread his favorite book. The one who’d whisper praises in your ear as he fucked you gently. Who’d cook for you and buy you flowers.
But on campus? He went back to the cool guy persona. Eventually, over time those lines got blurred. His two personas fused until the cool side overtook the sweet one. You didn’t recognize him anymore. He stopped being the sweet Sunghoon you grew to love, and become the one you hated.
You still loved him, but hated him all the same. When fights would break out, you always ran back to him. It was a repeated process over and over and over. Until you gave up and walked out that door for good, saying those final words to him.
And oh god did those words ring in his ears for that entire year.
You finally moved on, or well, tried to. You started finally going on dates again, meeting new people, and trying new things out. But unfortunately, it never worked out.
“I don’t get it,” you sigh, dropping yourself onto your best friend's couch, “They just—“
“Aren’t Park Sunghoon?” he said, giving you a teasing smile before waving his hand for you to quickly sit up.
“Sunno,” you pouted, waiting for your best friend to sit down so you could lay your head in his lap, “Sunghoon was an asshole.”
“I mean, yeah,” he shrugged, “But you’re looking for him in every man you’ve met, that’s why it’s not working.”
You roll your eyes, “It’s been practically a year, I’m so over it.”
Sunno rolls his eyes back, “Right. Keep telling yourself that YN.”
Before you can protest, your phone vibrates in your pocket, receiving a notification that you’ve gotten a new match on the dating app you’ve been using.
You sat up, scrolling through his profile, “I may have found someone.”
Sunoo raises his brows and glances at your phone and nods in approval.
You’ve been on multiple dates with Soobin since then. You haven’t been able to get over how sweet he was. Always opening doors (including car doors) for you. Pulling chairs out and waiting until you sat comfortably before pushing you closer to the table.
He always paid for your meals and coffee. Has even brought you meals and coffee to your workplace and when you’ve gotten out of class. He takes your hand before you cross the street. And walks you to your front door of your apartment, kissing you softly and not walking away until he hears the lock bolt shut.
He was everything you could have hoped for in someone. He did what Sunghoon did and more. You were lucky to have met Soobin.
But something still held you back. You didn’t know if it was because he hadn’t officially asked you to be his girlfriend yet, or that you hadn’t met his friends. Or maybe you were just scared.
But you clung to Soobin anyway, walking down the street with him as the late winter snow started to fall. Soobin stopped walking to step in front of you, pulling your jacket tighter around you, “Are you too cold? Need my jacket too?”
You shook your head, “Thank you, Bin, but I am okay. You need to keep yourself warm too.”
Soobin gave you his bunny smile that you adore so much, watching as his blonde hair waved in the cool wind as he bent down and placed his lips against yours.
Sunghoon just happened to walk out of the coffee shop across the street when he noticed your arm linked with someone he didn’t know. Watching as this man stops in front of you and then kisses you.
Even though his face was tight and non-activated, his heart was breaking. Chills were sent down his spine at seeing someone who was him kissing you.
Sunghoon watched as the guy cupped your face, giving you a couple more kisses before planting one on your forehead and then pulling you to his side to continue walking. Sunghoon ran back inside the coffee shop, praying to whatever god was listening that you didn’t see him.
He spent that night pacing in his living room. Fingers between his teeth chewing at the nail. It was driving him up a wall at the image of Soobin kissing you. It repeated in his brain over and over again and he hated it. Why did he hate it? Why did it bother him? It’s been a year. He’s already done his time of pouting over your loss in his life. Why did he care so much?
Sunghoon kept asking himself that question as his thumbs hovered over your contact information, the photo of him kissing your cheek and the biggest smile on your face was still his contact photo for you. A pink heart emoji was still by your name. His hands trembled looking at the contact.
So he locked his phone and tossed it onto the couch, deciding he wasn’t going to worry about it.
But luck wasn’t on his side as he continued to see you around town with Soobin. And the more he saw you with him, the more Sunghoon started to lose his shit.
Every time Soobin would lean down to kiss you, Sunghoon’s heart would stop beating. Anytime he saw Soobin practically eye fuck you, it took everything in him to not march over and start swinging.
He had to do something—ANYTHING—to get you away from Soobin. To break up with him. To stop smiling at Soobin the way you used to smile at him.
It all kept him awake at night. And one night, Sunghoon broke. Sitting up so fast in bed and grabbing his phone from the charger and dialing your number.
ring…ring…
“Hello?”
Sunghoon nearly had a heart attack, he wasn’t expecting you to answer, “Hey, YN…”
“Sunghoon?” you sleepy said, pulling your phone from your ear to make sure you indeed were talking to Sunghoon. You blinked a few times to make sure you saw the name correctly and then the panic set in. Why was he calling you? When your phone started ringing you just naturally picked it up, being too tired to check the caller ID.
“Yeah, it’s me, love,” he whispers, hands shaking, “Did I wake you?”
You yawn on the other end, “I mean, yeah.”
Sunghoon sighed, “I’ll let you go back to sleep, I’m sorry.”
“No, Hoon what do you want? It’s two AM.”
“I just…wanted to talk to you. Come over? Please.”
You wanted to say no. To hang up the phone and go back to sleep and act like the call never happened. But his voice, the tiredness, and restlessness in it…something was wrong. You felt it.
Now you stood in his living room, standing in front of him as he leaned against the back of his couch. His hair was a mess, heavy bags were under his eyes and he looked like he hadn’t eaten much lately.
“Hoon,” you whispered, “What’s wrong?”
He couldn’t look at you, “How have you been?”
You cross your arms, “I know for a fact you didn’t wake me up at two in the morning to ask me to come here just to ask how I’ve been. Texting would have worked.”
Sunghoon scoffed, immediately putting that barrier over his heart, the one he put up when he realized how madly in love he was with you all that time ago, the barrier that eventually caused you to leave him. Sunghoon has had way too much time lately to think about what went wrong, and after seeing you with Soobin…it was all clear to him, “Right, but I can’t text you if you have a boyfriend, right? Can’t chance him seeing it.”
You looked at him confused, “What boyfriend?”
Sunghoon crossed his arms now, narrowing his eyes at you, “Don’t play stupid, YN. The blonde guy you were making out with on the sidewalk two weeks ago.”
He saw. He’s seen you with Soobin. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you happy, knowing that Sunghoon knew.
“Are you stalking me now?” you raised a brow and scoffed, “Didn’t take you to be that type.”
“I’m not stalking you. I just happened to have seen you with him.”
You roll your eyes, “Soobin isn’t my boyfriend, but if that’s all you wanted to say, then can I go?”
Sunghoon didn’t answer, he just stared at you, trying to find the words to beg you to not go. To stay with him.
You poked your tongue in your cheek, starting to turn away, “Is he better than me?”
You whipped back around to look at him, “Excuse me?”
Sunghoon shrugged, “Is he better than me? There’s no way he is,” he chuckles, “If he was you’d be fucking him right now instead of standing here in front of me.”
Oh, you were heated, “You know what, Sunghoon, this reason right here is why I ended it with you. You’re so toxic and say such shitty and hurtful things and you don’t even care.”
He shrugs, looking away from you and to the hallway, “Can’t blame me when all you do is yell at me.”
There it was. That toxic side. That part where he tries to flip the tables against you.
Tears swelled in your eyes as you looked at him, “I don’t need this,” you turned and walked towards the door, “Goodbye, Sunghoon.”
Sunghoon was immediately at your side, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him, “No, baby, please don’t go.”
You tried to push out of his grip, “Don’t call me that! It hurts too much!” The tears were now falling down your face, blurring your vision as you continued to try and push him off you.
Sunghoon gripped both sides of your arms, “Please don’t walk away from me again!” he gently shook you, “I am so fucking in love with you. I won’t be able to handle it if you walk back out that door again.”
Tears were now in his eyes, his body shaking and his knees weak.
You blinked a few times to regain your vision, seeing the man in front of you, seeing how the tears rushed down his face.
Sunghoon fell to his knees in front of you, his hands sliding to your waist and resting his head against your stomach, “I couldn’t stand seeing you with him. It hurt too damn much,” his voice became shaky, unsteady, “I need you, baby, and I am so so so sorry for how I treated you. You didn’t deserve it. I lost sight of who I was. I was scared to let myself fully love. To let you fully love me. And it’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I let you walk away. I was toxic, I was an asshole. But I can’t lose you again. Not again. I couldn’t handle it. I don’t know how I survived the first time and I sure as hell know I won’t this time if you walk away from me.”
He sobbed, not being able to stop his tears from drenching the carpet at his knees, squeezing his hands tightly at your side, begging and pleading with you to not leave him.
You slowly rested your hands in his hair, parting it neatly like how he likes it done and slowly sliding your hand down his face. He leaned into your touch, your thumbs wiping away the tears that stained his face.
You still loved him. Every piece of him. Sunoo was right, you looked for Sunghoon in every man you met. Didn’t want to commit because they weren’t him. Soobin was different, yeah, but he still wasn’t Sunghoon.
You knelt down in front of him, not at eye level with him, “Please stop crying,” you whispered, “I’m right here.”
He shook his head, “I can’t lose you again.”
“Shhh,” you hushed him, resting your forehead against his, “You won’t. I’m right here.”
Sunghoon pulled you into his lap, holding onto you for dear life as if someone was going to rip you from him. He dug his face into your neck, squeezing you tightly to him, “I love you and I am so so sorry.”
You leaned into him, “I love you so much, I forgive you.”
You’ve never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so open, and wearing his heart on his sleeve. He’s never held you so tight before. Never kissed your neck and shoulder like he was right now, with so much love and desperation to keep you.
You stayed in his lap until his crying slowly and breathing was steady again. You played with his hair until you felt his grip on you loosen, “You need some sleep.”
He barely was able to shake his head, “I don’t want you to go.”
You forced him to look at you, slowly placing kisses on his moles, “I’ll stay the night.”
Sunghoon slowly nodded, wrapping his arms tightly back around you and carrying you to his room, gently laying you down on his bed and cuddling up to you, pulling you to his chest.
“Baby?”
“Yes, Hoonie?”
“Can I kiss you?”
You looked up at him, giving a small smile and nod, “I would love that.”
Sunghoon didn’t waste a moment to cup your face and kiss you softly, completely breathing you in.
He was unsteady without you, and it took losing you for him to realize it. You kept him centered. And he’s not going to risk losing you again. 
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— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez
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1d1195 · 3 months
Text
Sunflower
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~7.2 k words
From Me: Requested by my 🍓-anon. Sorry it took some time. I took a couple liberties (mostly because I love food a lot so I couldn't make it taste bad hahahaha) I hope you like it! I'm going to post your ask with the request tomorrow. 💕 Right now it's just the one part (but I feel like some may want a second).
Warnings: fluffy and a bit of jealous Harry. Nothing too angsty though this time around.
Summary: Harry has a high paying job that allows him to eat at some of the finest restaurants in the city. But the little bistro that has good drinks and a great staff is by far his favorite. Or maybe it's the waitress he can't get out of his head that has him coming back so often.
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“Are you sure this is the place?” Sarah looked skeptical.
“I swear,” Mitch smiled. “I know it doesn’t look like much, but the drinks are good and so are the apps.”
Harry watched the banter of his two best friends. “How did you even come across this place?” Sarah asked as Mitch held the door open for her to enter. Harry took hold of it so Mitch could follow after her. There were no more than fifteen tables and a bar. It was fairly dark but in a good way.
If anything, it contrasted sharply with the sunflowers at nearly every turn. There was a mural painted on the back wall of bright flowers against the dark paint. Each table had a bright blue glass vase with a single sunflower stem in the middle of the table. The aprons the staff wore were covered in a floral print of a garden of sunflowers. It was stunning. Bright and beautiful.
“Aptly named,” Sarah smirked.
Harry chuckled. “S’nice,” he agreed.
Harry and Sarah continued their observation while Mitch waited patiently at the host stand. “I came here for lunch with a client,” he said answering Sarah’s earlier question. “Their friend owns it.” After another moment they were brought to a table. There weren’t many people there; given they were there at two in the afternoon on a Saturday it wasn’t so surprising. The bar was nearly filled, several patrons seemed to be regulars as they got a say in what sporting event got to be on the TV. Only two other tables were filled and there was no need for a bustling staff. “I came for dinner, and it was full capacity with a line. But when you know the owner, you get a table early. They have a little outdoor patio around back too but it’s seasonal.”
The three of them looked over the menu in silence. Until Sarah broached the subject of getting one of every type of appetizer and then there was their daily debate of which appetizer was best and maybe they would have to do one of each since they wouldn’t be able to decide which was best.
Their debate was interrupted by the waitress coming over to introduce herself.
“Hi everyone, welcome to The Sunflower Bistro, have you been here before?”
“I have,” Mitch smiled. “We’re arguing over an appetizer, what do you think?”
Without pausing, she didn’t help the debate. “Oh, one of each,” she giggled.
“See! I told you!” Sarah lightly smacked Mitch’s arm.
This only made her smile grow. “Can I take your drink order while you narrow your choices?” She asked.
There was an exchange of words. Words Harry didn’t hear. But then Sarah and Mitch were looking at him expectantly.
“Harry?” Mitch asked.
“A drink, hello?” Sarah laughed.
Quickly he shook his head. “Sorry,” he cleared his throat, his eyes glancing down at the menu but unable to read anything. “Just water for now,” he murmured unable to make eye contact with her.
“I’ll be right back,” her voice was sweet and pretty.
“Are you alright?” Mitch asked.
“She’s beautiful,” Harry mumbled. “I can’t even look at her.”
When he saw her approach, he was immediately tongue-tied. Overwhelmed. It was like seeing the ocean for the first time. Or a garden. Or a painting in a museum. There wasn’t a way to pinpoint what made her so beautiful. It seemed to be everything. The way her hair was clipped behind her head and just a few soft pieces framed her cheeks. Her bright smile. Her sparkling eyes. The way the sunflower apron cinched her hips. All of it. Or none of it. She was beautiful. Overwhelmingly so. Harry swore he forgot how to breathe. He had been in love before—at least he thought he had been. This wasn’t comparable.
So he couldn’t even look at her.
Sarah giggled. Enjoying the way her friend’s face turned pink at the admission. Mitch smiled. “Aw Harry’s got a crush!”
“Shut up, she’ll hear!” Harry snapped and put the menu in front of his face, hiding from the rest of the restaurant.
“Oh my God,” Sarah laughed. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“I could not look at her,” Harry mumbled putting the menu over his face.
“She’s very pretty,” Sarah agreed and reached out to squeeze Harry’s arm. “But you have to look at her.”
Harry’s heart was racing. Like he was sprinting on the treadmill or in the middle of a phone call with an important client. Harry had been nervous before. The exams in college, his first interview, on-boarding new clients. This wasn’t comparable either. “I really don’t think I can, Sarah.”
“Did we make any decisions?” Her kind voice returned, and Harry scanned the menu eagerly, his cheeks still flushed, he was sure.
“Honestly, no,” Sarah laughed. “We’ve been admiring how beautiful this place is.”
And you, Harry thought.
“Oh, I know, it’s practically dreamy working here. The sunflowers are the perfect flower. It’s so sunny and fun,” she explained.
“Have you worked here long?” Mitch asked.
“Yes, since it opened. My friend owns it. It’s like a family kind of thing around here. It’s so nice,” she looked so happy to talk about this place. Passionate. “Niall’s really nice about me going to school and getting me the shifts I want.”
“Oh, that’s so nice! What are you studying?”
Harry wanted to involve himself in the conversation, but he was so speechless by her kind sweet presence, it was impossible to think of a word to say to her. He was grateful his two friends were there to carry the flow of dialogue because it was apparent Harry was going to be useless in that regard.
“Harry also went for a degree in finance,” Sarah segued to look at Harry. He missed her response. That was evident. He would ask when she went back to place their orders what was said specifically.
He looked at her, fully. He hoped he wasn’t staring at her to the point that she wanted to hide and run away from him because he was being a creep. After a pause that was a brief longer than he would have liked, he cleared his throat. “I graduated a couple years ago. I work for a large accounting firm,” it was a miracle he didn’t stutter from how nervous he was. He was holding the menu still to keep his hands from shaking.
Her smile brightened. She looked genuinely happy for Harry. He imagined she was anything but disingenuous, but still. For a complete stranger, who could barely utter two sentences to her, she bubbled with excitement at this knowledge of getting to know him. “Oh! That’s amazing! Nice to meet you, Harry. I’m graduating this spring,” she explained. “I’m super nervous about the whole internship process...I feel like it’s super difficult and overwhelming.”
“Harry’s still in touch with the person he did his internship with,” Mitch volunteered.
He wasn’t. At least...not to the degree that Mitch was suggesting. “Well, I’ll have to give you my card,” she winked at him. “I’ll give you a few more minutes to decide on appetizers.”
Harry felt some kind of crushing relief to watch her walk away. Which was ridiculous because the moment she was gone, he realized how badly and stupidly he wanted her to come back. He could barely even talk to her, but her presence made him happy. Deliriously so.
Sighing, he turned to Sarah. “Am I ruining m’first impression?” He asked.
Sarah smiled and shook her head. “Not at all.”
Harry really hoped not. “I’ve never felt like this,” he mumbled and decided bare minimum, he needed to pick something to eat. At least he could repeat it in his head a few times before she returned and not embarrass himself while ordering.
Hopefully.
*
Like the perfect waitress, she came back to check their food was good and their drinks were refilled. Mitch was right. The drinks were good and so was the food. “Can I get you guys anything else?” She asked sweetly. Fortunately, Harry managed to order his own food without Sarah or Mitch’s help. He didn’t stammer and didn’t make a fool of himself in front of her.
“No thank you,” Sarah turned to Harry. “Did you want to give her your card as well?” She asked. Harry felt like he was having an allergic reaction. His skin felt hot, and he thought that his throat was closing. Part of him wanted to kick Sarah beneath the table but a small piece of him was grateful for her direction and encouragement because it was evident he couldn’t do this on his own. He was prepared to give her his whole wallet. Credit cards, cash, anything in there was hers.
“Er...right,” Harry fumbled, his hands shaking as he opened it.
Harry tried to keep his breath under control as their fingers brushed when she took the card from him. His heart was working triple the beating time it was supposed to from the soft touch that couldn’t have lasted more than a second. “Oh goodness, my card doesn’t look anything like this,” she frowned. “Please don’t judge how ridiculous it is, I thought it was cute and memorable,” she pulled a few cards from her apron pocket.
It was cute and memorable. He didn’t want her to change a thing. The top corners were webbed with a little sunflower vine. Otherwise, the card was white with a half-print, half-cursive font covered in blue. “Well, aren’t you a Jane-of-all-trades,” Sarah laughed. She had listed tutoring, babysitting, painting, lawn-mowing, cleaning, etc.
“Gotta pay the bills somehow,” she admitted. She sighed. “I’m grateful to Niall as I’ve steered away from most of those odd jobs that my dad taught me,” she laughed again. “Waitressing, despite everything, is a lot more stable while I’m still in school. I made that when I was fresh out of high school. It needs a serious update.”
“Harry, where did you make your business cards?” Mitch asked.
If this were a regular day and Harry wasn’t so tongue-tied and nervous, he probably would have thanked his friends for their effort to support him in being his wingman and wingwoman. But he was so out of sorts, so unbelievably captivated and captured by her, he couldn’t fully use his brain. It was embarrassing. If she had even an inkling that he liked her, she probably wasn’t going to reciprocate merely because he was so embarrassing to listen to. There was no way someone so pretty would like him and his inability to speak.
What would their dates even look like? Her voice was so nice, like a song he hadn’t heard since he was young. The kind of song that made him believe in love even though he was young. Her laugh was probably adorable. Her smile was adorable so it could only be so. But she would want conversation. Right? Was she just to chat about her day and her feelings and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything but stare at her? Admiring how pretty she was?
Actually, that sounded like a pretty decent plan for Harry. But she deserved more.
So instead, he cleared his throat once more. “S’online. I’d have t’look up the website. But yours is memorable,” he assured her. “I like the colors.”
“Thanks, Harry,” God he loved the sound of her voice saying his name. Her adorable smile was so sweet he felt his heart melting. “It definitely needs an update now that I’m about to graduate though, please let me know if you find the website.”
Harry wanted to tell her that he would give her whatever she wanted for as long as they lived and then in their next life too. But instead, he simply nodded and tucked her card safely into his wallet.
*
“This is insane,” he mumbled to himself as he pulled the door out of the way. It had been two days since he left The Sunflower Bistro and the pretty, sunflowery girl he was completely enamored with after hardly speaking to her. While her phone number weighed heavily in his wallet, he couldn’t bring himself to call her. Worried he wouldn’t be able to get a word out when she answered.
How he thought he was going to talk to her without Sarah and Mitch as a buffer was beyond him, but he couldn’t walk past this place either knowing he could see her and try to make up for his tragic first impression. “Hey Harry!” She said walking by the hostess stand. “Nice to see you again! Niall, can you put him in my section?” She asked.
Harry felt the words die in his throat, so he was glad he didn’t have to speak to Niall.
“A regular, hmm? Took you long enough,” Niall called after her.
“Had to hold out for a good one!” She shouted back and disappeared behind a door.
Harry wondered if all those times he had been in love before were real. His chest was fluttering with some emotion he hadn’t felt before then. It was a longing that filled every ounce of his lungs, every cell of his blood. Every inch of him. Like some kind of homing sound was coming from her and echoing in his body. He felt so unbelievably whole when he looked at her. Like he was seen.
Niall brought Harry to a table and smiled at him as he left.
“Hey! I was hoping you’d text or call, I figured it was my crummy card that deterred you. Or maybe it was unreadable,” that laugh of hers was a melody Harry wasn’t going to forget for the rest of his life. She leaned on the opposite side of the booth looking at him. Her hair was pulled back the same way as it was the other night. Silky and pretty. Harry wanted to slide his fingers through it more than anything. Her smile that had haunted all his thoughts at work and made him grin at his computer screen like a lunatic was also still just as earth shatteringly beautiful as last time. Made him tongue-tied just as he was last time.
“Um...yeah, no...,” he managed to smile at her joke. “M’jus’...” he shook his head trying to think of a reasonable excuse that would make any sense as to why he hadn’t called the pretty girl yet.
“Hey, no worries; I’m sure work keeps you busy!” Her voice was cheerful. “I’m glad to see you, is all. Are your friends coming?” His heart nearly stopped that she was glad to see him.
“Not this time,” he hoped that wouldn’t disappoint her because then he would call Mitch and Sarah and order them over. He still had a right mind to do so. Seemed to be the only way he would be able to talk to her more than a few mumbled words.
“Alright, well I’ll let you mull over the menu while I grab you a water. Unless you want something else?”
Drinking alcohol around her might make him fully mute. Or make him spill every thought he had. Without his friends as a buffer, both seemed heinous. “Water’s good.”
“I’ll be right back,” she flitted off like she was floating. Harry believed she was an angel so that made sense.
“C’mon Harry,” he mumbled to himself looking over the menu deciding what he would try today. He was fortunate the food was so good, and it would give him an excuse to come back more times than probably necessary so he could see her again.
“Here you are!” She practically chirped, setting his glass of water in front of him. She leaned against the opposite side of the booth again. “Anything look good?” She asked.
Her.
“Um...m’a fan of street corn,” he scanned the menu again.
“That’s probably my favorite app on there—or the pretzel bites with queso. It shouldn’t work but it does. The veggie soup here is criminally underrated but it’s not really soup season so no fault there. I’ll give you a couple more minutes,” she sauntered off again with her kind smile.
Harry wondered what her favorite song was and why she got into finance. He wanted to ask her what her least favorite subject was in school and what kind of music she listened to while she was cooking. Knowing her favorite candle and what kind of shampoo she used seemed like critical information he needed to know. He wanted to know how many siblings she had and whether or not she would want two kids or three.
All of which was ridiculous.
And further proof Harry had never been in love with anyone before he saw her.
*
Harry visited on Mondays and Fridays. It was a good way to start his week and a great way to end his week. Seeing her bookended by the workweek was nothing short of perfect.
He did this for three weeks. Niall merely smiled, as if he knew why he was there. Harry could feel his cheeks turn pink each time the staff gave him a knowing smile. It was obvious he was there to see her. To be placed in her section. “Hey Harry!” She chirped when he sat at his regular table.
Mitch and Sarah joined him twice more since the day they brought him. He was less tongue-tied but nearly just as shy. They gave him an immense amount of shit for being so smitten. But Sarah thought it was adorable. “You could just ask her out.”
“S’creepy,” he grumbled. “I doubt a waitress wants t’be hit on by their customer.”
“Right, coming twice a week just to see her isn’t creepy,” Mitch eyed him suspiciously as he sipped his drink.
Harry sighed in frustration and rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye. “I jus’—”
“Hey guys,” she nearly cooed so sweetly. Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m running a little behind today. I’m really sorry. This has been the longest double in the world,” her smile was still adorable. But she did look tired. Poor thing. “We’re down a server. And a line cook,” the exhaustion she felt was palpable.
“Oh, you poor thing,” Sarah cooed. “Harry, scoot over, let her sit,” she ordered.
Harry did immediately. Simultaneously terrified and excited to be so close to her. “Oh, it’s alright. I just—”
“Seriously, darling,” Mitch smiled. “Sit,” he encouraged.
She did.
The warmth of her body rolled off her and wafted over Harry in waves. It was like a gentle hug. His heart was rapidly beating, as it always did but somehow even faster now that she was so close to him. “Thank you, my feet are killing me,” she sighed. “I need new shoes, but my car just ate up a big chunk of my paycheck,” she frowned. “When it rains it pours right?”
Harry was trying to figure out the best course of action to help her on every front. He already imagined her tip was going to be exorbitant and he hoped she wouldn’t be upset by that—because he truly wanted to help her. “Have y’eaten yet?” He asked softly.
She bit the inside of her cheek. “No, I have been running around like crazy. Totally missed my chance at lunch.”
“S’not good, love,” Harry frowned. He wanted to call her Miss Sunflower or something similar, but he had one neuron still keeping him sane and decided ‘love’ was more neutral than not.
She nodded in agreement. “I know, I shouldn’t even be sitting. I’m sorry to lay all that on you guys. You’re just the first nice group I’ve had all day. It’s like a break in itself—not that I won’t do what you need and—”
“Oh please,” Sarah rolled her eyes. “We can just fill this table for you if that will make your life easier. Don’t worry about us,” she assured her.
The relief on her face was so sweet. Harry struggled to not wrap her in a hug beside him. “Thank you guys. It’s so nice to see you. I’ve never had my own regulars before,” her smile was so cute Harry wanted to kiss every inch of her face. His skin felt warm sitting so close to her. Snaking his arm around her waist would be so easy, so effortless. “I’ll get you a round of drinks?” She asked as she stood from her seat beside Harry. “Anything to start with today?”
“Pretzel bites,” Harry blurted quickly. “Please.”
He hoped he could convince her to sit and have a few when they came to the table. “My favorite,” she grinned knowingly.
*
When Harry sat in her section, she knew it was going to be a good day. His sweet smile, his easy-going nature, and just his kind presence made her shift immensely better. “He’s here again,” Niall sang as he headed to the kitchen where she was putting together a to-go order for one of her tables.
Her cheeks warmed under Niall’s sing-song tone. “If your food wasn’t so good he wouldn’t be here.”
“Darling, he’s not here for the food,” Niall sounded the slightest bit exasperated. He had repeated himself of the same notion since the second time Harry showed up to be seated in her section. “If he was truly here for the food, would he have left you a massive tip like that to get new shoes?”
The implication was there, and maybe she was having a little more trouble ignoring it after getting way more money from him and his friends than she had ever gotten while waitressing. Her achy feet felt so much better with new shoes too. So, part of her struggled to ignore the fact that Harry was maybe, possibly, there because she was.
Harry never made her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she felt nothing but comfort by seeing him. He was quiet, sweet, and very easy to look at. It took considerable strength for her to not stand at his table forthe entire time he was seated in her section. Mondays and Fridays were her favorite days of the week. Chatting with him (even if he seemed a little shy at times) was the best part of her shifts. His smile was so charming. She wanted to tell him everything about her reflexively. It was completely disarming. Or maybe it was how green and deep his eyes were that nearly made her voice die in her throat. It took a lot of effort to remember her job was to go get drinks and food for him at regular intervals.
She really thought he wanted no part of her when she didn’t even get a text message from him after procuring one of her lame cards. Certainly, with silly little flowers and dumb odd jobs listed, he wanted to steer clear of her. But instead, he showed up a few days later in her section. It made her stomach twist with nervous butterflies flitting inside. There were a thousand thoughts running through her head as she admired her handsome customer from afar.
“Hi Harry,” she smiled sweetly as she approached his table. “How are you?” She asked politely.
“Good, how are you?” He answered.
“Good,” she responded. “I got new shoes,” she pointed a toe toward him for him to look at the new sneakers she chose. “That was extremely kind and overwhelming. You didn’t need to do that,” she bit the inside of her lip. “I tried to stop you guys from leaving once I realized, but Niall—”
“S’nothing, love,” his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink at the compliment. Her heart skipped a beat at how adorable he was and looked. “Was a long day for you. I jus’ wanted t’help a little.”
She nodded feeling gratitude overwhelm her—it was thick in her throat. “Seriously, thank you,” she hoped he understood how appreciative she was. “No one’s ever done something like that for me before.”
“S’really no trouble,” he assured her with a smile that melted each of her organs to a puddle. She was lucky she stayed upright.
“I’ll...I’ll be right back,” she turned and bumped into the table that was behind her causing the chair to scrape across the floor.
“Are y’okay, love?” Harry asked suddenly behind her. He gently touched the back of her arm creating a plethora of fireworks on her skin and in her heart. She shook her head and blushed nervously.
“I’m good. Clumsy me. I’ll get you your drink,” she nearly sprinted toward the bar so as not to embarrass herself further.
*
She was chatting with Harry, leaning against the booth. It was easy. Harry wasn’t a man of many words, but he was a great listener and when he did talk, everything he said was so kind and genuine. It was like talking to an old friend. Someone who just knew what she was thinking without her having to say much. There was this familiarity that was so warm it wrapped around her like a blanket. It made her feel so comfortable in his presence.
She never wanted to stop talking to him. Which was probably why she didn’t. Poor Harry listened to her chat his ear off for hours during the time he came to visit over the couple months of the semester. His quiet, “what’s that like?” Or, “do you enjoy this class?” And, “do you have a recommendation?” just kept her talking and talking.
It was hard for her to fathom Harry was there for her. Harry was graduated, had a real job, and made a ton of money it seemed if he was willing to tip a poor waitress an obscene amount of money for new sneakers. His clothes were nice, and his hair was perfectly styled. He always looked like he was ready for a business call.
His friends were extremely nice and friendly. They were also put together in a way that she never dreamed she could be so it was hard to imagine a situation in which Harry might possibly, kind of, have a crush on her the way she had one on him.
She was mid conversation with Harry. The fall semester had end and she was going to pick up more shifts somehow but was definitely going to catch up on sleep as well. She was praying that Harry would put her out of her pining misery and tell her he had a girlfriend one of these days. “You have to try this new dish! It has the brussels sprouts you like and—”
She was swept directly off the floor mid-sentence and was wrapped in a hug. It was familiar in a way that was different than the familiarity of Harry. Because she was used to this kind of hug. “Hey beautiful,” he cooed in her ear.
She smiled excitedly. “Hi, Jake! I thought you weren’t starting till this weekend!”
“I’m not, but I was nearby and thought I could use a dose of pretty,” he winked and headed toward the kitchen without another word.
She blushed and shook her head. “Sorry,” she murmured and turned to look at Harry again and finish the sentence she had started. “Anyway, the brussels spr—”
Harry had come to the restaurant in a lot of moods over the last few months. Tired, frustrated, happy, stressed, excited...she was pretty good at reading his expression and deciding what he needed or wanted to make his day better. This expression was unreadable. His jaw was tensed creating a sharp angle at his jawline she was sure it could have cut glass. His eyes were blank but watching her intensely. All of his muscles appeared taut—his posture ramrod straight. It almost looked uncomfortable. “Are you okay?” She asked softly.
Harry blinked, shook his head quickly, and cleared his throat. “Uh...yeah. Sorry,” he reached for his glass of water and took a large gulp. “Y’were saying something ‘bout brussels sprouts,” he reminded her.
She bit the inside of her lip feeling a shift in the air around them. Something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Oh, right...just...I think you’ll like the special.”
He nodded. Still completely unreadable. “I’ll try it, thank you.”
“I’ll go...put that in,” she murmured and headed toward the kitchen.
The kitchen was still greeting Jake when she entered. Everyone was listening to him recount his semester abroad. “Whoa, did you see a ghost?” Niall asked, doing a double take when she entered.
She shook her head and rolled her eyes. “No, it’s nothing,” she punched her code into the computer and tapped the meal for Harry.
“Did Harry tell you he has a girlfriend?” Niall pressed.
“No,” she muttered, her cheeks burning red. She grabbed a plate off the shelf for the other table she was waiting on and made sure it had all the extra sides and things. She grabbed the second dish and placed it on her arm.
“Who’s Harry?” Jake asked.
“The love of her life,” Niall told him.
“Shut up, Niall.”
He chuckled. “Oh? Were you going to tell me about him?”
“I’m a bit busy right now.”
“You couldn’t text me?” Jake asked. Jake had been her best friend on the job since Niall opened the sunflowery place. They were a great dynamic duo. But Jake was into dating a lot of different women and that was totally fine and his prerogative. She didn’t judge him at all for being young and doing what he wanted. But she wanted no part of his love life. So they remained friends and it was truly better that way. He would bail her out if a customer was being rude or coming on too strong. She helped him with his math homework and made sure he remembered to drink something other than protein shakes and alcohol on the weekend.
“There’s nothing to write home about,” she mumbled, lying through her teeth and feeling devastated that something in the air shifted between them in a matter of seconds.
Niall snorted in disbelief. She glared at him. Jake smiled impishly while she gathered the final fixings for the table. “Where is he?” He asked as she pushed on the door.
“Jake,” she choked nearly losing the plate in her left hand.
“Niall, do you know him?” He looked expectantly at him. He smirked, opening his mouth to give him the details.
“Uh—”
“Niall!” She snapped. Niall closed his mouth immediately and shrugged at Jake.
She sighed with relief and pushed through to the restaurant floor. “Table thirty-four!” he shouted, muffled by the closed door. She glanced back to see him hovering over the computer.
It took every ounce of self-control to hold onto the dishes in her arms. She wanted to scream. She hurried to her table to deliver the food, prayed they wouldn’t ask for anything additionally, and then she nearly took out another waiter while running for Harry’s table on the other side of the restaurant.
Jake was letting go of Harry’s hand as she approached, and she shoved Jake out of the way. “I don’t know what he said but it’s not true.”
Harry smirked, a good sign of his normal smile and demeanor. “Y’not friends?” He questioned.
She punched Jake in the arm who barely registered the motion other than lightly rubbing his arm without breaking eye contact with Harry. “Not anymore,” she grumbled.
“She’s my work wife,” Jake said wrapping his arm around her shoulders. “Can’t get her to commit to being my actual wife.”
“Don’t want any diseases,” she muttered. The blank, cold stare in Harry’s eyes returned and she felt so warm she tried to push against Jake but was unsuccessful. “Harry is also in finance,” she explained. “He offered to help me make a new business card—”
“Thank God,” Jake interrupted.
“—and he might know someone for an internship.”
Harry’s answer was gentle even though the cold stare didn’t waver. “Don’t think y’need t’change the business card all that much, love. S’sweet.”
“Childish and unprofessional,” she said pointedly.
“Agreed,” Jake squeezed her to his side. “Thanks for keeping her company while I was gone,” he said. Harry wasn’t a man of many words. But his facial expressions made up for it. He smiled politely, nodded, and glanced at his phone ringing.
“I have t’take this,” his voice was tight, apologetic.
“Of course, let’s go,” she yanked on Jake and headed toward the kitchen again.
“Not sure why you like him, he’s pretty cold,” Jake taunted as they returned to the kitchen.
“Cold?” Niall asked. “Harry makes her feel all warm and fuzzy,” he teased. She wrinkled her nose and definitely felt warm at the insinuation.
“He’s... not himself today,” she admitted. “I don’t know why,” she frowned and turned to Niall. “It’s weird.”
“Darling, you can’t be this brilliant and that stupid at the same time,” Niall pinched the bridge of his nose.
Her frowned deepened and she felt resentment for the notion of being stupid. “What are you—”
“He’s jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Of Jake,” Niall rolled his eyes as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
She snorted. “Why?” She blinked.
“Look at me,” Jake smiled proudly and gestured toward himself self-assuredly.
She eyed him briefly up and down. “What? You look like a tool who’s been abroad,” she remarked.
Jake shook his head, unaffected by her insult. “Think Harry might think I’m competition.”
“Why would he think that?”
“I mean, I did call you my wife.”
Niall laughed. “Oh God, poor Harry.”
Her face flamed. “I said we were friends!” She pouted. “Oh my God. Go back abroad,” she shoved him toward the door. “You are the worst.”
“Easy, love,” Jake continued to taunt, this time in Harry’s accent. “I can fix it,” he offered and headed back for Harry’s table quicker than she could catch him. But when they got there, his table was empty. A note scribbled on a napkin in Harry’s writing. Family emergency. Sorry :( Was looking forward to the brussels sprouts. You can have it on me. Next time. He left cash for the food and a tip anyway. Even though he never got his meal.
She pocketed the money and punched Jake in the arm one more time for good measure.
*
“You’re being ridiculous, you know that, right?” Sarah asked. “I know we aren’t best friends with her or anything, but she’s really nice. She wouldn’t lead you on like that.”
Harry knew that. Really, he did. But the emotion he was feeling wasn’t rational. Jake called her his wife and had his arm around her. He hugged her like he loved her. Harry was certain Jake loved her. Even in a way that wasn’t necessarily romantic, but it was...unfair. Unfair that Harry hadn’t told her he liked her. Nervous that he would make her uncomfortable by hitting on her while she was working.
“She wasn’t leading me on at all,” Harry murmured.
“All the more of a reason to not be ridiculous,” Sarah and Mitch had taken turns telling him it was childish to ignore her after all those months of chatting with her and entrenching himself as a regular and then to just not because he was jealous.
“Just because you’re jealous—”
“M’not jealous,” he grumbled.
“Right, because someone who’s not jealous would leave before he got his food because her friend called her his work wife. Someone who’s not jealous would suddenly stop being her regular after months.”
Like clockwork.
Harry was lying on the couch at Sarah and Mitch’s place face down trying to ignore the feeling of his heart breaking. No one said anything for several minutes. Sarah was working on cleaning the kitchen when Harry arrived, and Mitch suggested getting pizza. Harry wasn’t even hungry. Well, he was, but he wanted brussels sprouts.
“I might be jealous,” he admitted.
“Hallelujah,” Sarah sighed. “Talk to her.”
“Don’t y’think she’ll be grossed out that ‘ve basically been...stalking her because I like her?”
“Hello!” Sarah nearly shouted. “She likes you too!”
Harry was flooded with warmth at the idea. “She’s never said anything,” he mumbled.
“You’re her customer,” Mitch rolled his eyes. “As worried you’ve been about flirting with her while she’s working. She’s probably just as worried.”
It couldn’t have been that easy or simple.
Could it?
*
Harry was reading his schedule for the day on his computer. They were regular appointments with clients that he had in on a regular basis. He had just returned from the breakroom after an hour-long meeting and was seeing what was next or if he would have some downtime for paperwork in before his next client. The schedule looked normal. Except for the one meeting blocked off for ten-thirty. “Hey, Kate,” he called to his secretary outside his office. “Do y’know who scheduled—”
But Harry wasn’t paying attention to the time, and it was already ten-twenty-five and she walked into his office.
He dropped the pen he was holding above the calendar. His lips parted as she entered.
“Your ten-thirty is here!” Kate called.
Harry was going to fire her.
It had been two weeks since he had seen her. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but she looked more beautiful. Or maybe it was because his office was light, mostly the sun coming through the windows and made her practically glow. Like she really was a sunflower. “Hi,” he murmured.
She wasn’t in her typical waitressing uniform. Her hair wasn’t pulled back. Harry didn’t know she could be more beautiful than when she was waitressing, but she was wearing regular clothes, a blue dress that fell to her knees and she seriously took on the beauty of a sunflower, it was astounding. “Hi,” she said.
“Y’can close the door,” he offered. “D’you want something t’drink?” He turned away from her and heard the door click shut. He went to the mini fridge on the back windowsill in the corner of his office holding a few small bottles of water. “Y’can sit,” he gestured to the chair. She did. He placed the bottle in front of her and sat across from her behind his desk. They were both silent for a moment. Harry took a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“Harry, I have this absurd love for numbers. People have looked at me funny since I was young. It’s like this really complicated puzzle in my head and I just want to solve it. None of the little parts make sense together until they do. The answer is so beautiful when all those pieces click, and the flow of your logic comes down to this one singular answer and it’s just perfect.”
Harry wondered if there had ever been a poem written about numbers. Or if what she said was the very first one. Harry was pretty passionate about his work, and he was glad he made pretty good money. But he didn’t think he could ever chat about numbers the way she did.
“I feel that way when I’m around you. That all this logic just beautifully clicks into place. You make me feel normal for liking numbers. You’re extremely kind and you don’t...” she bit the inside of her lip and looked at her hands in her lap. “I don’t know why I feel this way but you...you stopped coming to eat, I don’t know why, and I don’t know what I did. I want to fix it because I’ve enjoyed getting to know you and I thought we were friends. Then we weren’t. I liked picking out which special of the week you would enjoy. Maybe I’m too young or something to be friends? I can’t help that. Maybe it was because Jake called me child—”
“Don’t,” he shook his head unable to hear the name.
“So it is about him,” she frowned. “I don’t...Harry, it’s not fair to keep me out of the loop about what you’re feeling! I can’t fix whatever I did—”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Then why did you stop coming to eat?” her voice cracked.
Harry wanted to jump out a window for making her feel insecure and nervous. If she cried he was done for. He sighed exasperated with his own miscommunication. His cheeks felt warm as they always did when he embarrassed himself around her. “Y’not too young,” he looked at her, but it felt like he was looking right through her. Like he could see right into her brain and read every word that was waiting to exit her mouth. “You’re not childish,” he affirmed. “You are...” He shook his head. “You are perfect,” he assured her. “I didn’t want t’ask y’out while y’were working. S’kinda rude. Then Jake called you his wife—”
“I’m gonna kill him,” she whispered.
Harry ignored her comment (even though it made his heart feel the slightest bit better). “—I really like you. I think you’re way too smart for me. Way too kind. And y’work in a place surrounded with beautiful sunflowers and I can’t stop looking at you,” his heart felt heavy, the butterflies in his stomach were trying to escape. He used every ounce of his effort to read her unreadable expression as he watched her process everything he said.
“You think I’m beautiful?” She whispered.
He snorted. Of all the things she could focus on at a moment like that. “Love, y’have t’know you are.”
She shook her head. “I’m always sweaty and working when you see me.”
“Well seems y’had some proper prep time today,” he looked at her with a soft gaze that he hoped didn’t seem too excessive. “Y’look more beautiful.”
Her eyes seemed to melt with relief. “You were jealous?” She asked.
“Course I was,” he nodded easily. Like it made the most sense in the world.
“But... you never said anything.”
“I didn’t want t’make you uncomfortable,” he repeated. “I can’t imagine how many people hit on you while you’re working.”
She frowned. “Naturally not the person I want,” she grumbled cutely. Harry felt lighter. He smiled.
“Sorry,” he whispered.
She shifted awkwardly in her seat but smiled. “I uh...I came here to tell you off.”
He chuckled. “I would deserve that,” he agreed. “I... I have something for you,” he opened the top right drawer to his desk. “Saw it, and...it's not much, but it reminded me of you," his eyes were so gentle it made her heart skip a beat. He held out the little cardboard rectangle. It might not have "been much" but it was everything. A thin gold chain, a sunflower crystal pendant the lightest shade of yellow. "Love?" he asked quietly after a moment of her staring at the most thoughtful gift she had ever received. For another moment they just gazed at one another. Unmoving. Harry was wearing a button down, rolled up to his elbows. He looked at ease, finally. His cheeks flushed. His eyes so green and beautiful. She could barely breathe.
Then finally, Harry spoke again.
"Would you like t'go out with me?"
--
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frenchkisstheabyss · 7 days
Text
♡ sweet nothing ♡
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♡ Pairing: tattoo artist!ex boyfriend!chan x chubby!fem!tattoo artist!reader, best friend!stray kids
♡ Genre: angst/smut/fluff
♡ Summary: After a year abroad spent perfecting your craft, you decide to return to the shop that you started at to reconnect with the people you love but how will your friends react to your sudden return? And how will your ex feel when he finds out your back in town attempting to reclaim your place in his shop and maybe even his heart?
♡ Word Count: 5.8k-ish
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♡ Warnings: chan's really down bad for you and the littlest bit posessive, strong language, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, male masturbation, creampie, oral sex (m&f receiving), overstimulation, a lil nipple play, orgasm control if you squint, pet names (beautiful, pretty, baby), a lil hair pulling, and that's about it.
♡ A/N: So somehow I've written myself into a series of sorts all taking place in one tattoo shop. Seungmin's here if you'd like to read it. I'll for sure be doing one for all of the boys because why not? This one's a lot more angsty than the other one but I had a nice time writing something different so, as always, I hope you enjoy it, babes.
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You stand with your back to the night, casting your starry eyed gaze upon the soft white glow of the neon sign that hangs overhead. It reads Social Path Tattoos & Piercings. This place isn’t new to you, even if the nerves rattling through your system might imply otherwise.
You’re more than familiar with it. You used to spend every waking moment in this place. Even slept here a couple times when you were a bit too tipsy to drive. And coming back to it after a year overseas is surreal. You dreamed of this a thousand times before finally biting the bullet and hopping on the next plane back here. Back home. 
You made it. Through the chaos of the airport, racing through crowds to make it to the Uber you may have called a little too soon. Through an hour of bumper to bumper traffic, listening to your driver give you dating advice you definitely didn’t ask for. Through a hell of a check in process at the hotel and lugging half your life up to the 8th floor of the lavish building.
You survived all of that to make it to this moment and you can’t even bring yourself to step inside. What if you aren’t welcome? What if the men you once called “family” consider you nothing more than a stranger now? It’s only been a year but so much has happened. There were so many tears the day you left, so much sadness—so much anger. Maybe you should’ve stayed away.
“Next time you have to get one. I’m telling you, it didn’t hurt at all” a tall girl with a septum piercing tells her friend as they exit the shop. 
The shorter girl by her side stares at the fresh tattoo on her friend’s arm with equal amounts admiration and fear. “Liar. It’s needles stabbing through your skin. There’s no way that doesn’t hurt.”
Noticing the tattoos peeking out of your strappy crop top, the taller girl turns to you for some back up. “Tell her it doesn’t hurt,” she pouts. 
In all your years as a tattoo artist you’ve never once lied to a client but you aren’t on the clock right now and can’t bring yourself to kill whatever glimmer of hope this girl might have of winning her friend over. 
“It doesn’t hurt” you lie to her friend, knowing damn well that, while it isn’t torture, it’s far from painless. “It might sting a little but you’re tough. I can tell. You’ve got it.”
“Thank you” the tall girl smiles, holding the door open for you. “Headed in?” 
“Uh…” you hesitate, chewing at your inner lip. There’s so much weight to that question. A weight she can’t possibly fathom. Swallowing your pride, you give her a smile and a nod, slipping into the shop. 
“Have a good night!” the girls say kindly, going about their night and abandoning you in the doorway. 
Breathing in deep, you take a few more steps before stopping to take in the scene around you. The shop is as alive as it's ever been, the lobby buzzing with customers busy picking out jewelry or waiting their turn to be seen.
The front desk is still straight ahead, marked by a small statue of an orange cat named Cheese. It’d been Minho’s idea to get it when you all went on a drunken flea market adventure and none of you were sober enough to shoot him down. The walls are still adorned with elegant, hand painted art courtesy of Hyunjin, the best photo realistic artist in the shop. The city even. 
The checkered floors are the same, an expertly polished black and white patchwork to match the charcoal color of the walls. Even the couch you bought in from your apartment is still positioned in the corner where a bunch of college kids are currently lounging. A lot has happened on that couch. A lot more than they know. God you hope the boys have cleaned it.
Everything is just as you remember it but the energy’s something new entirely. It’s the contradiction of finding familiarity on an alien planet. 
“You need something, babe?” the bubbly girl at the counter asks, waving you over. This is new. They used to force you to work the front desk on weekends, the guys alternating weekdays based on whoever lost at rock, paper, scissors. But now there’s a new face. She seems sweet though so you make your way over to her. At least one person’s happy to see you. 
“Yes but no but yes? I guess” you ramble, indecision painted all over your face. Observing your appearance she doesn’t take you as the kind of girl to be hesitant about what she came to a place like this for but she comforts you nonetheless. 
“It’s okay” she says, reaching out a sympathetic hand to touch yours, “Everyone gets nervous sometimes. I mean, I work here and even I almost freaked when I got my bellybutton pierced but it’s okay. You know what you wanna get done?”
“Actually, I’m not here to get anything done. I used to work here a long time ago and I just thought I’d drop by and see…”
“You’re fucking joking” a voice from your past interrupts. Before you even turn to look, you know exactly who that voice belongs to. Seungmin. 
“It can’t be. I’m hallucinating” he gasps, clutching his chest. “A ghost? In our shop?”
You roll your eyes at the dramatics. You’ve missed them. “A ghost? Am I dead now? Is that what you consider me?” you sniffle, pretending to cry. 
“Oh, my god. Stop it. Come here” he says, smiling bigger than you’ve ever seen. He throws his arms around you, squeezing you into the tightest hug. In an instant it melts away your worries of not being welcome here. This is the warmest you’ve ever seen Seungmin greet someone and you feel special for being the recipient. 
“Squeeze me any tighter and I will be a ghost” you tease, pulling back the slightest bit to get some air. As you do you notice something new on his face. “When did this happen?” You marvel at the shiny silver jewelry decorating his eyebrow. 
“You hate it don’t you?”
“Ssh, I don’t hate it. I like it. It’s cute.”
Seungmin blushes, rubbing his cheeks in a failed attempt to hide it. Out of the corner of your eye you catch the girl at the counter staring daggers through Seungmin’s soul. It’s easy to see that there’s something going on here and she doesn’t like him blushing over other girls. 
“Ooh, someone’s got a girlfriend” you sing and the counter girl giggles. You can’t help but adore how sweet it is when Seungmin lights up at the sound of her laughter. But you can’t deny that it drags up bittersweet memories of when that was you and...
“Follow me. Everyone’s here tonight. I know they’ll be happy to see you” Seungmin says, ready to escape the lobby before his cheeks overheat from all the blushing. It’ll kill his reputation if the guys find out. He leads the way to the back, as if you need the guidance. You remember exactly where you’re going.
“So…” he sighs, feeling the weight of your return for the first time, “How was Japan?”
“Oh, it was wonderful. It’s beautiful over there and I learned so much from my apprenticeship. I was super nervous at first, you know? But everyone at the shop was…” You stop yourself short, fearful that your fond memories of your time there might come off as bragging. You may have had fun in Osaka but it still paled in comparison to the place you come from. 
Seungmin picks up on it, glancing back at you to give you a comforting smile, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m happy…we’re happy that you did what you needed to do. It’s nice to have you back though. You are back, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know. That depends on what he says. You know how he was when I left.”
Seungmin says nothing, only nods. He knows oh too well how his best friend was when you left. And those months after spent stewing in a bitterness that only thinly masked the pain of losing you. He watched it play out until the sting had faded but only enough to pretend that things were okay when they weren’t. 
“Yongbok, what’d you do with my kit?” Changbin shouts across the room, tearing his station apart in search of his prized possession. 
A few stations away a busy Felix rises from his chair, directing his client towards one of the full body mirrors in the corner. “Why are you yelling at me? I don’t have your kit!”
“I’m not talking to you! I’m talking to him!” Changbin points a finger at a shocked I.N who’s been innocently prepping for the next person in line.
“You called my name!” Felix snaps and it dawns on Changbin that he’s been calling the wrong person. 
Changbin fights himself not to laugh at his own mistake. He puts his head down, discovering his kit tucked away under his table. “Oh, I did, didn’t I?”
I.N querks an eyebrow at him, arms folded across his chest, “Why do you always do that? You can never call me the right name.”
“Because he’s old” Hyunjin mumbles under his breath, still loud enough for the others to hear. Changbin picks up a towel to throw at him but hesitates when he notices Hyunjin’s in the middle of a tattoo. 
“It’s okay, old man,” Han teases, patting his friend on the back. Hyunjin might be busy but Han on the other hand is free enough to invade his personal space so it’s a slap on the back of the head for him. 
“Can you guys be adults for a second? We have a guest” Seungmin announces but you hardly mind. This was what you missed while you were gone. No matter how kind the artists at the other shop were to you, they could never replace your boys. Even in their most chaotic moments there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 
Seungmin’s voice draws all of the attention in the room to you and everyone falls silent. If there’s anything else they needed to say the thoughts have evaporated in your presence. It’s quiet for long enough that you begin to worry. Thoughts creep back in that maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Seungmin may have been happy to see you but the others?
Just as you begin to doubt yourself, the room erupts in cheers and you find yourself at the center of the world’s biggest group hug. Their joy overflows as arms wrap around you, one set swapping out for another and then another swiftly enough to leave you dizzy. 
“You’re back! Why didn’t you tell us? Ugh, I missed you” Han says, pinching your cheek in an act of cute aggression he simply cannot control. 
Felix hugs you so that his cheek is flush against yours, “You’re staying, right? You have to stay.” 
This is nothing that you expected it to be. You’re flooded with enough joy to make a girl cry and you can already feel the tears welling up, you’re right on the verge of it. A year of wondering if you’d made a mistake. A year of worrying that the people you loved hated you for your decision. All of those doubts are shedded in the arms of these seven men. 
“What’s all this noise?” Chan groans, his eyes barely open as he steps out of his office, “I was trying to sleep for once.”
“Sleep? Shouldn’t you be working?” I.N says, never one to miss an opportunity to be a smartass. 
Chan lets out a yawn, stretching those muscular arms you very vividly recall drooling over and on. “You’ll pay for that, kid. But seriously, what are you guys doing out here?” 
The guys step away, gesturing towards you and his arms drop to his sides. Suddenly he’s reminiscent of a balloon at the end of a party, melancholy and deflated. You watch the light in his eyes die in real time and it makes you sick to your stomach to be looked at this way. It wasn’t always like this. In the old days he’d have you in his arms right now, showering you in kisses. But these aren’t the old days, no matter how badly you wish it were. 
He starts in your direction, one slow, agonizing step of his black boots after another. He stops a few feet away from you as if some invisible barrier is keeping him at bay. His expression is hard as stone as he studies you like you’re a creature he’s never seen before. 
“Hi” you manage in spite of the sudden lack of moisture in your mouth. You get the sense that you’re on trial for some horrible crime and Chan, the judge that he is, has no intention of offering you leniency. 
“It’s really nice to see you. You look…good.” There’s such a softness in the way that you are with him. The wisp of a smile on your lips, the gentleness in your posture. You’re soft as a marshmallow for this man and the fire of his anger’s enough to burn you to a crisp. 
“Chan, don’t be…” Changbin tries to reach his best friend but Chan snatches away, sparing you one last glance before disappearing into his office.
The door slams hard enough that the hinges creak and the wood seems to splinter. The others? They don’t hate you. In fact, they adore you with all of their hearts. But him? You’re positive he does and now you want to cry again but for a different reason altogether.
Han pats you on the back, bringing you close to him, “I’m about to work on my sketch for my next client. Will you help me?”
“I don’t know, Jisung. It might be better if I go.”
“What? No! You just got here!” Hyunjin pouts, his bottom lip quivering. “You’re really gonna walk out and leave some poor soul at the hands of his drawing skills?”
Hyunjin’s attempt at making you laugh works like a charm and a giggle escapes you. 
“Does that mean you’ll stay?” he asks, poking his lip out even more. 
“Yes, that means I’ll stay.”
“Yay!” Han cheers, grabbing onto your hand and dragging you over to his station.
He hops right into it, spilling all of the details about the tattoo and asking your opinion on it. At first you struggle to focus on helping him. As much as you want to, you can’t shake the mental picture of how Chan looked at you. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t need to. He said everything he felt without so much as parting his lips. 
Periodically you find your gaze drifting over to his office door, the pit of your stomach twisted with the anxiety over his next appearance. But the door never opens, not even a crack, and before you know it you’re fully engrossed in helping Han work on his sketch. Your styles are different but he admires you as an artist and soaks in every drop of your input like a sponge. 
As the night rolls on you find yourself at one station after another, helping the guys with what you can. You slip right back into their group dynamic with ease. It’s as if your spot was always here waiting for you to hop right back in. It’s like you never left. The minutes melt into hours and you find yourself lingering behind with them far beyond closing time. 
“We’re all going out for drinks. You’re coming right?” Felix asks as you group filters out of the shop, filling up the space on the sidewalk. 
“Yes, she’s coming. She doesn’t have a choice!” I.N answers before you have a chance to. The boys have already begun moving towards their destination and he drapes an arm around your shoulder to make sure you keep up. 
“I’m coming” you laugh, tapping him on the back of the hand, “I do need to run back to my hotel and change first though.”
Changbin looks you up and down, finding not a single thing wrong with your current fit. “Why? You look beautiful.”
As flattered as you are, there’s no way you’re going out on the town in a crop top and a pair of sweatpants. You might not be planning on switching into a ballgown but a change of wardrobe is definitely in order. 
You bat your eyelashes, grateful for the compliment, “Sweet but no. I still need to change. Just text me where you’re going.” Reaching into your pocket for your phone, you realize you must’ve left it behind. “Shit, I left my phone.”
They all pause, prepared to turn back and help you find it. “We’ll just go back and grab it” Han insists but you shut him down, not wanting to delay their plans. 
“It’s okay, really. I’ll just grab my phone and I’ll meet you there in a few.”
I.N opens his mouth to protest but you throw a hand over it before he can speak. “I’m not a baby, you guys. I got it. I’ll be quick, I swear.”
Shared glances between the seven of them play out a silent conversation that you aren’t in on. They want to look after you, especially after you being so far away for so long, but you’re stubborn and they know you won’t give in no matter what they say.
“Fine” Seungmin relents, “If you aren’t there in an hour we’re coming to get you!”
“Yeah and we’ll raid your hotel room, eat up all your snacks…” Han throws in for extra impact. 
“I’ll be there. I swear! One hour!” you promise, skipping back towards the shop. 
“An hour!” Hyunjin shouts after you, waiting until you’re safely back inside to continue on.
Inside the shop the lights are turned down, not completely off but dimly lit enough that you almost trip on your way to the back. You frantically search every station—in things, under them—but your phone’s nowhere to be found. 
“Fuck, where is it?” you shout in frustration.
Standing in the middle of the floor, you take a deep breath and contemplate where it could be. You were at Han’s station first and then you went to sit with Felix for a bit but Changbin called you to the front for something. That’s it. Maybe it’s there.
You turn to jog back up front when a sound from behind you stops you in your tracks. It’s the sound you’ve been dreading all night. The slow creaking of the door to Chan’s office. Your heart almost stops dead in your chest. You’re frozen, stuck right where you are. You can’t even bring yourself to turn around when you feel the weight of something on your shoulder.
“Looking for this?” he asks, tapping you on the shoulder with your phone. 
Hesitantly, you take it, turning to find yourself face to face with the man you used to call yours. Chan seems less angry now but his nose is red and his eyes are puffy. You can tell from the gloss dancing on the surface of them that he’s been crying. 
“Thanks. Sorry for leaving it behind, I didn’t mean to—”
“Why are you here?” He asks the question so bluntly that you’re stunned, unsure how to respond. 
“I don’t understand—”
“Why’d you come back? I thought you were confident in your decision. I thought that was what you needed. But now you’re standing in front of me so why?”
“Well, I…” you sigh, giving yourself a moment to process your own feelings, “I missed it. The shop and the guys and you.”
Chan’s jaw tightens, your profession placing him right back on edge. “You miss me?” he scoffs, “That’s not the truth. Try again.”
“But it is.”
“No it isn’t.”
“It is.”
“It isn’t!” he finally snaps, raising his voice at you in a way he never has before. “If you missed me then you would’ve called. You would’ve texted me. Do you know what that felt like for me? I haven’t heard your voice in a year.”
“Because you told me you didn’t wanna hear it!” you shout back, the tears you’ve been suppressing all night pouring from your eyes. It hurts to cry this hard. The tightness in your chest is unbearable. You’ve never cried this hard in front of someone before, not even him, but there’s no holding it back. “I blew up your phone all day every day for weeks begging you to talk to me. I might’ve left here but I didn’t leave you. You left me. You broke my heart and I’ve cried for you every night since. So hate me all you want but I won’t torture myself for you anymore.”
Four hours. That’s how long he spent pacing in that office spiraling down an emotional hole. He thought he knew what he’d say to you if he had the chance. All of those words left unsaid would come tumbling out. Those feelings of abandonment. That pain. He’d have the words to put to them that’d make you understand what you did to him.
Watching the tears stream down your face, none of those words matter now. He’d worked you up in his mind to be a villain, totally opposite to the girl he fell in love with. Blinded by his own bitterness he couldn’t see that you were still her. You are still her. And now he can’t ignore it. 
Tucking an arm around your waist he pulls you in, your face pressed into his chest. His fingers find your hair, stroking the soft strands. It feels like it’s been an eternity since he’s touched you. His body’s flush with the sort of warmth flowers must feel on a sunny day.
Chan leans in, his plush lips skimming your ear, “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just had so much anger when you left and I didn’t know how to deal with it but I don’t hate you. I’m so sorry.”
The tremors of his voice give you goosebumps. He sounds as broken as you do and just as lost. You shake your head, pulling back from him. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come” you say, wiping the tears away. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’ll stay away this time. I promise.”
You walk off, your arms wet with tears that won’t stop falling. Your chest’s thumping and the shop seems darker than it was when you came in. Footsteps follow behind you lightly enough for you to question if it’s all in your head. If there’s something you’ve left behind then let it stay that way. You won’t turn back. Not this time.
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It’s a silly thing to do but you’re doing it. 
Draped across your bed in a towel, you sip from a bottle of red wine and cycle through a heartbreak playlist that gives your lonely heart the company it desperately needs. The tears stopped a half hour ago, the last of them being shed in the shower. Your eyelids feel raw from all of the salty waterworks and your body’s exhausted.
A few feet away your phone sits on a table, lit up with text messages from the guys. After hearing what happened a few of them insisted on coming to get you but you can’t crawl your way towards the closet for the life of you. If not for their persistence you’d be content to rot in your hotel room for the rest of the night, drowning your sorrows in this bottle of overpriced wine.
Knock. Knock. Knock. 
“Nobody’s home” you groan, face down in the blanket. There’s a pause. Some shuffling on the other side of the door. Maybe it worked?
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Pushing yourself up from the bed, you toss the bottle aside and drag yourself over to the door. “Can’t a girl rot in peace?” you pout, swinging the door open. 
“If this is what you look like when you rot then rot all you want” Chan says, flashing you a smile so genuine you’re positive you must be dreaming. 
You stick your head out into the hallway, looking around for the other guys but there’s no one else in sight. “Chan, uh, what are you doing here?”
“Honestly? I’m afraid you’re gonna leave again before I can beg you not to.” 
With not a drop more of explanation he pushes his way into the room, kissing you like his life depends on it. His tongue glides over yours, savoring the taste of you mixed with the lingering sweetness of the wine. The kiss is so consuming you can barely get a breath in but air is vastly overrated when a kiss is laced with this much passion. There’s a year of longing inside of him and he pours it into you boundlessly. 
Tucking his hands behind your legs, he lifts you up, fingers delighting in the softness of your thighs. He missed this. The tenderness of your kiss. The plushness of your figure. The light, fruity scent of your perfume filling his lungs as he plants open mouthed kisses down your neck, suckling at your smooth skin.
His lips never break from you as he lays you across the bed, tearing your towel away like it’s nothing. His palms massage the fullness of your figure, riding every curve to cup one of your breasts. Your body tenses in response to his touch, moisture pooling between your thighs. 
Chan drags his tongue across your cleavage, his stiffening bulge pressed right against your core. “Tell me you’ll stay this time” he begs, lovesick eyes flicking up to you, “Don’t leave me again.” 
Brushing his hair out of his face, your fingers skate along that immaculate bone structure of his, bringing him up for another breathless kiss. His thumb brushes your nipple, making small circles on the tip of the bud, and you shudder. 
“I’ll stay” you moan, your thighs growing slick with your arousal. 
He pinches the bud, grinding his clothed cock against you harder this time, “Promise me.” 
Chan sounds so needy and it only worsens how badly you ache for him. You guide him back up to his feet, slipping to the edge of the bed to kiss his cock through his pants. You press your palm to it, riding the outline of the print while your other hand dips under his shirt to feel his abs contract with every touch. He tugs his shirt up over his head, giving your hands free reign of that beautiful chest.
You smile up at him, pulling down the band of his pants and his boxers at once. His cock springs free, thick, throbbing, and as deliciously veined as you remember. You stick your tongue out, licking up the arousal dripping from the tip. You smile up at him, your tongue retreating to say the words he wants to hear. “I promise.” 
You press your lips to the tip, taking it in further this time. You swirl your tongue around it, enjoying the satisfied groans that fill the room the more you take him between your fluffy cheeks. Your mouth is so warm and wet around his cock. It’s like heaven.
You relax your throat, taking him as far back as you can, before pulling back the slightest bit to wrap your fingers around the base. You rock your head back and forth, wrist rotating as you pump his shaft. You can feel every little twitch of his cock, taste the precum dripping on the back of your tongue, and it has you soaking through the blanket beneath you. 
Chan reaches down to play with your hair, utterly incapable of taking his eyes off of you. You look too pretty drooling around his cock for him to miss a minute of it. He wants to be like this forever with you. Not only this but everything. He wants to be with you. Near you. Inside of you. Anything you’ll bless him with. He just wants you right here, looking at him with all of the love and admiration you do with his cock throbbing down your throat. 
“My beautiful girl” he coos, tilting his hips in to push into you a little more. “All mine, yeah?” 
With your mouth stuffed so full of him he hardly expects you to answer. Your hum of agreement vibrating down his length is more than enough to let him know that you agree. You’re his again. You’ve wanted to be for so long and at last you are.
That knowledge is almost as intoxicating as feeling him on your tongue. Chan tangles his fingers in your hair, bringing your head back far enough that the head of his cock only ghosts your glossy lips. He plants a kiss on your forehead, staring so deeply into your eyes that you almost lose yourself. 
“Bend over for me, baby” he whispers and you nod your head, swinging around in the cutest way to assume the position.  
You crawl onto your knees for him, back arched and ass in the air. “Is this good, Channie?” 
If only you could see yourself from this angle. Your body’s beyond perfection and your pussy’s glistening like diamonds. He can’t stop himself from tasting you, a hand palming your ass as his tongue darts into your core. 
“So fucking good” he hums, his face buried between your thighs. His tongue dips up, dragging between your folds and teasing your clit. Your body trembles and he grabs your hips, lapping at your clit until his face is soaked in your juices.
“Channie, please, ah. Too much” you whine but your body tells a different story. You’re soaking wet, your walls so needy you’re clenching around air. Your hips arch and swirl, almost riding his face.
Chan’s too drunk on your pussy to listen, his free hand between his legs to stroke his cock as he devours you. His tongue pushes back into your core and your walls flutter around it, leaking like a faucet. His cock throbs in his palm, drenched in a mixture of your saliva and his arousal. He feels so out of it, so completely absorbed in you, that he’s racing towards his high faster than he’s ready for. 
Dragging his tongue out, he steadies himself, gripping your hips to bring himself right to your entrance. You wiggle your ass excitedly and he laughs, licking you from his lips. “You want it that badly, baby?”
You look back, serving a pouty face that’d bring even the toughest man to his knees. “I just wanna see how much you’ve really missed me.”
“I’ve missed you so much” he moans, sinking into you with one motion. You both nearly collapse at the dizzying pleasure of it. Your walls cling to his length as he bottoms out, filling you up perfectly. “I was going crazy without you” he confesses, pulling out and slamming into you even harder. Your body jiggles, the softness of your hips borderline sinful. 
You cry out, biting your tongue to avoid a noise complaint but the moans still spill out. Those broken, beautiful moans. Every stroke rides your sweet spot, pushing you further towards absolute ruin.
“I’ve needed you so badly” he coos, savoring the wet snapping sound of your body colliding with his. “Just like I need you right now. Fuck, I don’t know how I lived without this pussy.” 
Throwing his head back, he settles his knees at the very edge of the bed, bouncing you in his lap. He fucks into you faster, your juices splashing up and decorating his abs. Blindly you reach for a pillow, dragging it over to bury your face in because you know it’s coming. You feel it and so can he. Your legs are shaking, you can barely keep your body straight, and your walls are spasming too wildly to spare his sanity. 
You’re almost there, knocking right at the door of you high. But instead of keeping his pace, he slows down, every movement careful and purposeful. He angles himself against your sweet spot, making sure he doesn’t miss it once, and teases you to the point that your body’s almost crying to cum. “You ready to cum for me, hmm? You want it?”
“Mmhmm” you whine, eyes watering, “Let me cum, Channie, please.”
How can he deny the request of such a pretty girl? Picking up speed again, he thrusts into you, and your orgasm rips through you like an electric current. You bite down on the pillow, your brain going fuzzy as you cream all over his cock, moaning his name in broken syllables.
Chan has the glimmer of a thought to pull out but he’s too addicted to the feeling of you clenching to follow through on it. It’s too late anyway, his heart’s already skipping beats, his seed spilling out into the warmth of your core. His movements grow sloppier, both of your bodies getting weaker by the minute, but he doesn’t stop until your knees give out.
You summon the energy to roll onto your back, giving that poor little pillow a break, and Chan collapses on top of you, his head resting on your soft belly. “You know” he pants, massaging your love handles, “This music is really sad.”
You giggle, your awareness of any music playing having faded away the moment his lips found yours. “You’re right, it is kinda sad, but I was sad.”
“Was?” he asks, propping his chin up on your belly, “You’re not sad anymore, right?” 
“Hmm, no, I don’t think I am.”
“And you really meant what you said? That wasn’t just sex talk?”
You need a second to think about what it was that you said. You’re sure you said a few things when he was inside of you. All of which you meant, of course. “Oh, that I’ll stay? Yeah, I meant that. As long as that’s what you really want.”
Chan climbs on top of you, strong arms caging you in as he hovers above you. “More than anything.” 
He kisses you and you close your eyes, letting yourself fade into him. You don’t regret going off to find yourself, it was something you needed to do, but there’s no doubt in your mind that this is where your heart is. With the shop. With the boys. And, more than anything else, with Chan. 
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seresinhangmanjake · 11 days
Text
Late Date
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Summary: It’s your birthday and Tyler’s going to do some wrangling to make sure no tornado can ruin your day. Unfortunately, that also makes him and the Wranglers a bit late to your party. 
Notes/Warnings: Fluff. It’s not angsty at all, despite how the summary may sound. Inaccurate meteorology/tornado stuff. Slight jealousy. This is based on a lyrics request: “you’ve got long hair slicked back white t shirt and I’ve got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt.” It’s just meant to be kinda cute, and I did my best, so hopefully you guys like it. Comments make my entire world, so if you do like it, let me know :)
Words: 1650
Tyler Owens Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List
It happens often. You and Tyler are enjoying your time together when Disaster suddenly puts you in her path. A picnic in the park, a late-evening rodeo, a dinner date for him to meet your mother—all ruined. And yes, you believe Disaster does this intentionally. Disaster, in the form of a funnel of warm air and moisture, is as much in love with your boyfriend as you are, and she’s a jealous bitch, always calling him away when he’s in the throes of life with you. 
Luckily for Tyler, you’re not as jealous as his tornado. You’re not as greedy. When he leaves you to meet her, you let him go because he’s the town hero, and you don’t let your emotions get in the way of his job. After all, he does what he does to save the things he loves—this town, his family, you. And regardless of the time he spends with her, you know you’re his number one. 
Today, however, you could do without his job. The jealousy that you have rarely felt up to this point seeps through as he throws your favorite white t-shirt of his over his sculpted chest before buckling the belt wrapped around his jean-clad hips. He stomps one foot down into his boot and then the other before rifling through the dresser chest at the base of the bed.
“You have to do this on my birthday?” you ask, trying not to pout from your seated position on the mattress. The silk sleeve of your robe falls down your shoulder, exposing bare skin, and despite the chill, you don’t pull the garment back up your arm. Anything to keep him in this bed, you think, and for a moment, you you’re satisfied that it might be working. Tyler pauses on his hunt for a clean flannel as his eyes glue to your chest, your pebbled nipples just barely hidden by the rest of the smooth, thin material. 
You sit up on your knees and wrap your arms around his neck, but it’s from your touch that Tyler finally blinks, shakes his head, and says, “Darlin’, wouldn’t you rather feel reassured that your evening tonight will go tornado-free? I’m just going to go with the guys, disrupt anything that’s already formed, and observe the conditions as best I can so we don’t get any coming our way when we’re supposed to be celebrating another year of your life.”
It’s hard to argue with him when he hits you with logic, but it’s made harder by the pout on his face. That is supposed to be your pout. He’s the one leaving you on your birthday—decent reason or not—not the other way around. 
“Fine,” you say.
Tyler grins from ear to ear. He leans in and captures your lips in a long kiss before pulling back and brushing your unkempt hair out of your face. “We’ll meet you at the bar, ok?”
Nodding, you say, “Yea,” and untangle your arms from his neck. He gives you one last kiss. 
“Happy Birthday, darlin’” glides to your ear in his smooth, low voice, and then he’s out the door. 
“He’ll be here,” your cousin tells you. You’ve been staring at the bar door for a half-hour, disappointed with each new blond cowboy who walks into the crowded space. “When has he ever let you down?”
You sigh. “I know. But why did the bitchy tornadoes have to run wild today of all days? He said they chased four between here and the next town over, and two of them put up a real fight,” you say, relaying the information of Tyler’s earlier texts. “Plus, it’s raining now. That’ll only make it more difficult for them to get back.”
The bartender offers you and your cousin the drinks she ordered. She winks at him and downs the entire glass in one gulp—which he seems to find very impressive—before nudging your glass closer to your folded hands atop the counter. 
“Well, the only thing to do is drink up,” she orders. “Might as well have fun while we wait.”
You’re two drinks in. Your cousin has knocked back four, and while she’s no lightweight, the effects show in the uptick of her flirtiness with the bartender. She’s agreed to wait around until his shift is over, which was quickly retracted when she remembered that it’s your birthday and the fun she is meant to be having is with you, not the hot guy who stopped charging her for drinks an hour ago. But you assuage her guilt, knowing you have no intention of hanging around a crowded bar until two in the morning unless your boyfriend is going to be with you, birthday or not. 
With the acceptance of your third drink, you hope to easier ignore the appreciative glances from the blond cowboys on the other side of the mass of dancers in the center of the room. You must be a sunny-haired, country boy’s type, but they aren’t your man, and to be honest, you’re surprised they’re daring enough to look so long. The town is small enough that you figured by now everyone knows you’re Tyler’s girl, but clearly, that’s not the case. Either that or they just don’t care. 
When you start to feel it—the slight high, the looser inhibitions—you decide the best course of action is to simply ignore them, and so you hop down from the stool and make your way to the dance floor to do exactly that, planting yourself in the middle of a group of like-minded women swaying their hips to the tune. Like that, you let yourself go, alcohol allowing you to surrender to the flow of the feminine voice coming through the speakers. Your mind drifts, your eyes close, and when you feel a hand on your waist, you think of Tyler. When hips grind against yours, you think of Tyler. When lips touch your neck, you think of Tyler. And when your eyes open, you see Tyler.
He steps into the bar with the Wranglers in tow, his soaked white t-shirt clinging to his torso that every woman—even those invested in men of their own—notices, his hands slicking back his damp locks. With a grin on his handsome face, he glances around the space in search of you, but when he finds you, that grin drops faster than a rock can hit the ground. 
It’s then that you realize the paws on your body are not his. The breath hitting behind your ear is that of a stranger. Tyler’s stomping his way over to you, but you don’t need him to release his building rage because you have plenty of your own. 
Flipping around, your palm meets the cheek of one of the knock-off Tylers. He yelps and rubs his face. His irises turn red, and he looks ready to give you a scolding or call you some sort of vile name, but his eyes widen at the shadow that suddenly looms over you and he shrinks where he stands. 
“Y-Your girlfriend?” he eeks out. 
It’s fascinating to see the demeanor shift. Tyler must have more of a reputation than you realized. You haven’t lived in town long—you moved in with him three weeks ago after a year of long-distance dating—but you’ve known for a while that he is well-loved and anyone who crosses him crosses the town. What you didn’t know was that the people’s devotion to their tornado-wrangling hero could incite such fear. And honestly, you’re a little impressed; a little turned on. 
Tilting your chin up, the back of your head lands against your boyfriend’s chest. His arm comes around your waist, hand flattening over your stomach. “You think?” he spits. 
When knock-off Tyler skitters back to the gaggle of knock-off Tylers, your Tyler turns you around to face him. With a cocked brow, he says, “Now, darlin’, what was that?”
You shrug. “Thought he was you.”
Tyler looks over your shoulder to the group of blonds. His eyes narrow. “You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve had a bit to drink,” you chuckle.
His mouth parts, an ahh sound leaving his throat as if to say, ‘That explains it.’ “Where’s your cousin?” His gaze follows yours to the familiar woman whose body is half thrown over the countertop, her lips connected to the guy whose neglect of other patrons is about to cause a riot. But you don’t care about a likely-to-be-fired bartender; you care that your boyfriend was absent for so much of your birthday.
“What took you so long?”
You’ve started to gently sway with the music again, this time taking the correct Tyler with you. Your hands clasp behind his neck as his link around your waist, pulling you in close. 
“Sorry, darlin’. It was rougher than we anticipated,” he says, and though you expected to be much more put out, you feel settled with that explanation. You’re just happy he’s with you now and not standing you up for a date with his unpredictable weather. “You look pretty,” he tells you as his palms slide down over the skirt that’s snuggly fitted around your hips. “I haven’t seen this one before.”
“Bought it today.”
“For me?”
“For me.” You roll your eyes. “But I might have guessed you’d like it.”
He hums, gaze raking appreciate up your body to your mouth. “I do,” he says, then he presses his lips to yours. However, remembering the scarlet hue coating your lips, you quickly pull back. 
“Your whole mouth is going to be red if you keep kissing me.”
Tyler’s brow pinches. One hand’s fingers glide up your body and slip between the strands of your hair. “Good,” he says. “Then people will know we’re a matching set.”
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catiuskaa · 8 months
Text
*cough cough* no, me kisses.
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SUMMARY: he may have lost his opportunity to ask you to become official, but boyfriend or not, there’s only one thing Hannie wants needs: your kisses. All over his face. Right now.
WC: exactly 1.3k baby!
CW: it’s too fluff!! ahhh!! (scared) lol, mentions of the usual sick thingies like headaches and mucus (ew!), mentions of lipstick stains (because YES), use of petnames.
REQUESTED! by pookie dookie @4ln-stay8 right here. I owed you one for reading my angsty fics, so I gave my best with this one. tysm for your support, my love! <3
A/N: inspired on the jeekies bc this singlehandedly changed my brain chemistry (melts n giggles)
[☆★🧣★☆]
Jisung wanted to groan.
Meanwhile, you only wanted to giggle and take millions of pictures of him.
What for? Well, first of all, little Hannie was cutely hiding under his duvet.
Only Jisung’s big boba eyes blinked repeatedly as he sniffed, not because he was crying, but because the poor little thing couldn’t even smell anything. He kept the half down of his face under the blankets of his bed, as he surely knew he was blushing due to you being in his room.
He hadn’t been expecting you, and he wanted to groan and put on a tantrum —or however you use that word in a sentence— because you had to be there at that moment.
“Aw, Sunggie,” you melted at the sight of him, holding back the need to coo and pet him and treat him the small and cute hamster he so was. “Lix called,” you clarified with a toothy grin. “He said you were sick, and buzzed me in before he left.”
Jisung made a note to himself to remember to tickle Felix to death for that.
There was one thing he wanted, and while it was you the one who could give it to him, he felt quite shy from asking, as far as refraining from doing so just yet.
Because it was not like you two were dating officially. Yes, the big, fat crush he had on you was as obvious as shit, to put it in elegant words, but he hadn’t asked you yet.
He was going to ask you, but he got sick.
And that one thing he wanted from you was your sweet pouty lips peppering kisses all over his face.
You sat next to him, and sheepishly shook your head. “Let me tidy up this place for you and bring you some medicine and more tissues, yeah?”
Your voice felt soothing, he wanted to use it as a blanket and stay wrapped in it for the rest of the week.
His heart sent more blood to his cheeks. As if there wasn’t enough, he thought with a huff, big eyes watching your movements as you picked a plate that had been left there since the night before and started picking up the used tissues from the floor.
“…hi…” Jisung mumbled, his voice hoarse and his throat dry.
Was he sick? Sure. I mean, his head hurt, his eyelids felt heavy, his nose was runny and he had surely filled the floor of his room and a decent part of his bed with used tissues.
But despite all that, the thing he wanted the most was to cuddle you to his hearts content.
“Hi, gorgeous,” you snickered softly, and he couldn’t help but smile with you. “Want some water too?”
He coughed in response, and you giggled. He cracked his knuckles underneath the bed sheet, his hands tingling, wanting to take you by your shoulders and hug you like a boa constrictor.
“Guess we have to cancel for tonight,” you mumbled with a small smile, your hand tenderly stroking his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll go leave my coat and bag in the living room and I’ll come back, yeah?”
He pouted without realizing. “Mmhhh…” he hummed with a small frown, almost like a whine.
You were about to mumble a soft ‘what’s wrong?’ before he shoved the covers away from his face as he gingerly raised his hand to grab your wrist and settled your palm back on his forehead. He sighed in small relief, melting into the coldness that lingered in you from being outside.
“Headache?” You said almost in a whisper, hearing the butterflies’ wings going crazy in your stomach.
He nodded. If he had been a cat, he would be purring, even if your hand had already turned warm against his skin.
“C’mon, Jisung-a,” your voice felt even softer than before. “I’ll come back before you know it.”
He sniffed. “…you will…?”
Your heart crushed, unable to handle how cute Han looked. It was too much, so much that even the butterflies in your stomach started to have their own butterflies in their stomachs.
And with a smile, you moved your hand to his cheek and planted a shy tender kiss on his forehead.
“I will. Pinky promise.” You chuckled softly, a blush slowly creeping up to your cheeks.
His eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat.
Oh, no. Now he knew what one of your small kisses felt like.
Now you couldn’t leave. Not before… oh.
He grinned slyly, making you raise your eyebrows, wondering what could he be thinking in that cute little head of his.
“…we’ll… make a deal…” he stated as firmly as he could.
You shrugged lightly, secretly enjoying the faint pink hue of your lipstick that had stained his forehead.
“Sure, Hannie.” Your smile only made the fact that you’d leave for, like, ten minutes —or God, maybe even more— feel a lot worse.
“I… want… more of those…” he blushed deeply.
“More of those?”
He took your hand and covered his eyes with it.
“I want more kisses.” He sniffed again.
Your mouth quickly formed the shape of an ‘o’, as your blush quickly turned a deeper shade of red, as if to compete against his.
You giggled, moving your hand from his face.
“You want my kisses, jagi?” You teased with a smirk.
He felt his heart going crazy in him, a tight feeling in his chest that turned his ears red.
“Aww, but aren’t you too sick for that?”
Oh, no.
You weren’t just going to give him a small kiss and then not continue all morning and all evening… right?
That couldn’t be allowed. Was it? He tsked at the thought. He had to make sure it wasn’t.
He coughed, pouting.
“No.” He coughed again. “Me. Kisses.” He sniffed. “Now.”
You laughed loudly, a sort of laugh that went right in Han’s little heart and filled it up with energy. He didn’t feel that gloomy sensation that being sick could cast over someone.
Instead, he squinted at you playfully.
“You have ten minutes, missy.” He said, already looking much better, emotionally wise at least. “Or else.”
You giggled, sheepishly pecking the corner of his lips.
"You can set up a timer, you cheeky idiot."
He moved his hand to his heart in an overly dramatic gesture that made you cackle, as he chuckled too, trying to ignore how fast his heartbeat felt under his hand.
Nine minutes and forty three seconds later —forty four, forty five...— you had settled a plastic bag next to his nightstand, had stolen a tissue box from the living room, and right now, you were smiling, walking one step in front of the other, carefully so to not spill over the soup you had made for him.
"It's amazing. You have to try it, I've outdone myself." You chuckled as he sat up on his bed, gingerly waiting. You left the tray on his crossed legs, moving his desk chair and nonchalantly taking a seat close to him.
"C'mon." You snickered. "Eat up." He finished it without a single complaint.
"Good boy." You teased, cackling loudly when you saw him blush.
"That's not fair," he mumbled with a pout.
"Scooch aside, Mr fairness."
You moved the pillows and laid next to him, shyly putting your arm below his neck, and then passed the other over his chest.
His face was practically in front of you.
"Hi." You grinned cheekily.
"...oh, h-hi." You giggled at his shyness. You hid the fact that you had reapplied your lipstick in the kitchen before bringing the soup, and started peppering soft kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his mouth...
Oh, you were surely going to catch whatever he had.
[☆★🧣★☆]
~Kats, who doesn't understand why tumblr won't let her stack pictures when answering asks, reason why I post them separately, lol. Thanks for the request, gorgeous!
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mercurycft · 3 months
Text
𝐔𝐆𝐇 — 𝐋.𝐖
## reader x leah williamson !! enemies to lovers
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hiiiiiii pookies! hope you enjoy this little angsty smutty fic! hopefully ill have some more bits out for you guys over the next few weeks - life is just crazing atm and i spend 99% of my time at work :( anywayyyys - i hope you enjoy this! its a long one - love always - RG x
masterlist here
contains : NOT PROOF READ BC I CBA!!!! angst, enemies to lovers, arrogant!leah, top!leah, oral r receiving, fingering r receiving, caught red handed, foul language.
3.5k words
it's a hot may monday in london - the type of hot that sits at the back of your throat and grabs at your skin harshly. today, you wake up to the day’s first rays of sun peaking through the blinds, a stark contrast to the usual grey, early morning skies. you sigh into the space around you, already feeling sticky and uncomfortable as you roll over, your hand brushing against the empty space in your bed and reaching for your phone to silence your alarm.
you get up - against your will, and begin to get ready for your day. shuffling about your flat, nerves brewing in the pit of your stomach at the mere thought of having to walk into work today, you try to distract your mind. taking your time for your usual routine - overly aware that you have given yourself more time than needed.
it’s your first day back to work. your first full and proper day back in london, and you already find yourself wishing it was the last. you loved your job - loved the people you had met; the people who had become some of your closest friends in the entire world. you worked hard, got your degree and that led you here.
well, truth be told you like most of the people you've met.
leah williamson, however, did not fit into that category. she was arrogant, dismissive. the type of woman that always seemed to be looking down her nose at you - like she was better than you. you tried your hardest to like her; to look past her abrupt and oftentimes rude exterior and personality but you just couldn't.
the way she spoke to you, how she held herself whilst she walked around the grounds - god it had you riled up. nerves raging at the mere thought of being in the same room as her for a prolonged period of time. but alas, you had to remain professional.
you couldn't jeopardise your job, your income - to spite a woman who somehow seems to make it her life mission to aggravate and annoy you. so, instead, you smiled sweetly. spoke extra calmly, all in attempted to be the bigger person.
she didn't make it easy for you with her tanned skin and deep blue eyes - the accent which rolled off her lips gracefully and caused a smile to threaten at your lips every time she spoke.
you weren't the best at staying focused, clearly. finding yourself staring absentmindedly into the bathroom mirror, toothbrush still between your lips whilst the thought of her trickled through the depths of your mind. disgust and attraction tangoed in your stomach; rattling around your organs until you finally ripped your eyes away and continued to get ready.
an hour later you were in the carpark, head leant against the headrest and hands still fixed at the 10 and 2 positions. you spent the next few minutes preparing yourself - taking deep breaths and assuring yourself you would be calm and collected from the minute you walked in.
so you were, armed with your bag slung over your shoulder and a ring-binder tucked beneath your arm you entered - smiling at the few familiar faces around you; all kitted out in their newest and finest training kits. they were earlier than usual, some of them having arrived last night and a couple this morning.
in an ideal world, you would've had time to settle into your day before she arrived. but this is clearly not an ideal world. after exchanging pleasantries with the girls loitering in the foyer, you said a brief and collective goodbye and headed towards your office.
through the double doors, round to the right and through the hallway. it wasn't far, but by the time you had rounded the corner your shoulder had began to ache from your bag and the folder had started to jab into your side. you knew the route like th eback of your hand, having wandered through these halls on numerous occasions after the last few years.
so, your head stayed tucked into your phone. too focused on the screen below you to notice the body slumped against the wall beside your office door, or the way it shifted to face you as you neared.
"you're late." you knew who it was before your eyes even lifted to meet theirs.
"williamson, to what do i owe this pleasure?" you exhaled, rolling your eyes out of view when you turned to unlock your door.
"you're late."
"your watch is fast."
this was usually how your interactions went, you tried to keep them to a minimum - but when you did talk, this was pretty much the usual.
"have you had a chance to look over the new schedules yet? i've had them emailed to you." she continued, paying to mind or attention to anything previously spoken.
"oh yes, please come in." you sneered as she followed into the room behind. you flicked on the lights and put your folder down on the desk, along with your bag. they hit the wood with a thud and you turned around to face her as she continued speaking.
"well, did you?"
"considering you just watched me walk in, what do you think?" you threw back with a raised eyebrow and a wide expression.
"arsehole." she muttered as she left, turning away from you like a toddler and almost swinging the door off of its hinges on her way out.
"oh captain williamson how you have hurt me. prick." you whispered below your breath sarcastically, face screwed up in a childish manner as you slumped into your seat with a grumble.
it wasn't always like this, bitter and short. there was a time when you and leah actually managaed to tolerate eachother, you were almost friends. then, when leah suffered her ACL injury - the dynamic did a full flip. she was knocked by the full force of her harsh, new reality. she was angry at the world, angry that the one thing she loved most was ripped from beneath her feet in a matter of seconds.
you, in charge of her recovery, were the closest and clearly most obvious thing to blame - so she did. every set back, every minor issue - was thrown onto you and your apparant incompetance to care for your players, your team. you paid it no mind, plagued with sympathy for her.
you had assumed once she recovered and her time spent rebuilding her strength was completed, that maybe she was ease up. that she would stop the snide comments or glaring stares across the room. you assumed wrong. instead she insisted on acting like a child, everyday. at first you tried to rise above, not letting her have an affect on you but everytime she spoke you felt your stomach physiclaly recoiling; twisting with anger. so eventually, you came to terms with it and you stopped taking it.
——————
the day drags on, your various appointments come and go and you can finally feel the end of the day nearing. people had started popping their heads in to say goodbye's and exchange see you tomorrow's and now it was just you and a few others who remained in the building. today had dragged and the thought of your bed was the only thing keeping you going. it was nearly 6pm when you had finally finished the reports and notes you needed to complete and just as you start to gather up your things the door ahead of you flies open.
“are you taking the piss?” leah. you inhale deeply at the sound of her voice bellowing through the room - careful to remind yourself of where you are.
“hm?” you dont even look up, seemingly unbothered by her presence and still flicking through the documents and papers littered across your desk. you can feel her fume from across the space, the humorous thought of her literally bursting into flames threatens a pinched smile to tug at your lips.
“i’ve been ringing you since lunch!”
“oh, i haven’t noticed.”
“why do you have to make it your daily goal to fuck me off, y/n!” she pauses and a weighted silence brews between you. “funnily enough it’s actually your job to pick up your phone!” she continues, hands waving about beside her. “especially when it’s me calling you! don’t you think that when you see my name flash up, that maybe you should fucking answer. your. pho-”
“no, leah!” your hands hit the desk palm flat with a smack, the fire behind your eyes fuelled by the sting across the skin. she’s loud, but you can be louder. “i dont, because funnily enough, i don’t answer to you!”
after starting you couldn’t stop, eight months of tongue biting and insult swallowing has come back to bite you in the back side - and now, the words came vomiting out with no sight of when they will stop.
“you don’t pay my wages!” you hold one finger up, pointing at her viciously. “you don’t get to come in here and bark orders at me!” quick breath. “you may be ‘captain williamson’ out there, on that pitch.” your finger moves to point out the window at the grassy area beyond the building. “but in here, through that door-” it moves to punctuate your sentence. “you are just leah! and i don’t know what gives you the right to come in here, day in day out and berate me!”
"you know thats-"
"all i do is listen to you speak, and comment and now fucking shout at me! in my office! and i am sick. sick! of hearing your voice ringing in my ears because you think you are better than everyone else! well earth to leah - the sun doesn't shine out of your fucking arse!"
too consumed by the anger radiating between you and the words flying off your tongue, you hadn't noticed how you had now moved from the safety of your desk. instead, you stood no more than a metre before her. skin on fire as you stared into her eyes and let all of the compressed anger bubble to the surface.
you both shared a moment of hefty quiet, chests heaving in sync as you collected your thoughts and your mouth opened again.
"you are rude." a step closer. "you are arrogant." another. "you are nasty." one more. "and you are truly, utterly and entirely a giant pain in my arse." you had travelled closer than intended during your rant, and now you stood inches from her. jaw clenched and breath shuddering when your eyes levelled once more.
the rage you felt overpowered every ounce of logic left in your brain, and you felt a wave of disgust crash over you when you found yourself softening at the smell of her sweet, vanilla perfume.
you were adamant this time, this was the last time she spoke to you like that. of the last time she spoke to you at all, you didn't really care.
"you're a bitch." she spat back into the small and enclosed space between you. you felt your breath catch in your throat as you realise that there may well be a possibility she's right.
maybe its the adrenaline pumping through your veins and intoxicating your bloodstream, or maybe its the way her hair has started to fall in front of her eyes as she heaves for breath in front of you, but t he air feels electric, and you sense the same awareness in her.
without a word exchanged, she steps forward and reaches for you. you don't know what you expected - but instead of pushing you away she pulls you towards her. you stumble slightly, unable to shake off her grip and leaning into her fingertips unintentionally.
there's a pause, a shift.
the air surrounding you suddenly too thick to inhale, grazing the back of your throat as your lungs are deprived of their need for oxygen. her eyes bore into your own, and you're sure, just for a split second - a wicked smirk pulls her lips into a lopsided and overly cocky line.
then she's on you, her lips against yours - fierce, unforgiving. you move with no real method, lips fighting against each other and teeth clashing. her teeth pull against your bottom lip roughly and you hiss, stomach contorting at the feel of her smile against the now sensitive skin of your lips.
you shouldn't want this, this shouldn't be happening. the little voice inside your head, the voice of reason is silenced when her hands move to your waist - gripping at the fabric of your top and leading you backwards towards your desk. your lips don't leave hers, worried if you come up for air you'll miss even a moment of this.
the edge of your desk hits the back of your thighs, and shes quick to hoist you up to perch on the surface. your legs spread and her frame holding ground between your thighs, your hands grabbing at whatever skin they could find as she kissed you feverishly.
her hands roam under your shirt and caress the skin of your back roughly - her soft skin juxtaposed with the way the pads of her fingertips graze across the small area. you busy your hands by sliding up the back of her thighs, feeling the skin uncovered by the shirts she adorns. you drag your nails against her urgently, encouraged by the way she moans into your mouth, her hands gripping your back and pulling your front against her.
begrudgingly breaking the kiss, she trails kisses along your jaw, nipping at your ear roughly with a grunt, and then down your neck. she can taste the salty sweetness of the skin, her own stomach flipping when you arch your neck to give her better access. your hands now wrapped around the back of her neck and twisting into the short hairs that reside there. your breath comes in short bursts as she continues the attack on your skin, hitching when you feel her teeth graze along the skin of your throat and her tongue following in their path to soothe the area.
she pauses as you gasp, her fingertips finding the hem of your top and toying with it before she lifts it up and over your head. you hear a grumble rise from the depths of her throat at the sight of you tucked into a pale lace bra, her hands quick to tug the fabric down and expose your breasts - the wave of air causing your nipples to harden.
you pull her down towards you, encouraging her mouth as she took one in. swirling her tongue around it and sucking gently. your chest rose into her, begging her for more when she bit down softly - a jagged cry slipping past your lips. she continued like this for a few more minutes, working you up with her tongue and fingers as she flicked and alternated between your nipples.
your bliss was interrupted by her hand flat against your collarbones, pushing you down until your back laid flat against your desk - not caring for the way the sheets crumpled beneath the weight of you.
she didn't give you time to catch your breath, instead she continued her path of kisses and sloppy tongue movements down the length of your body until she knelt on the carpet below you. her thumbs dipped into the waist of your trousers and underwear and began to tug them down your legs, her mouth attached to every part of the skin she revealed until she had them pulled down and pooling around your ankles.
she takes the moment to admire you from this angle, the way your skin creases and your chest rises and falls. your hair littering the space on the desk around you and hands firmly clenched beside your frame.
you're too concerned with studying the ceiling above you to catch the smirk settling across her lips again when she notices how you glisten in the light - her face level with your very evident desperation.
the fingers gripping your thighs were warm and strong as if she was trying to permanently transfer her fingertips onto your skin. her hot breath made your skin tingle and your core ache, you lifted your hips up towards her, pussy clenched tightly around the nothingness as your mind filled with vulgar images of her lips wrapped around you, her tongue on you.
as if she could read your mind, her tongue darted out to lick you lightly - her arousal clouding her mind when you moaned, pressing your hips forward into the source of the friction, begging her for more.
"fuck," she practically purred, her voice low and sultry.
she gave in again for just a second, allowing her tongue to lay flat against your clit - savouring the way she felt your clit pulse and throb against her tongue before pulling away and swallowing you entirely.
you don't have time to complain before she's on you again, her tongue teasing your sensitive clit. circling the nerves gently before pulling away with a little suck and then diving back in to repeat the process again. you try to stay quiet, hand laid against your mouth in an attempt to muffle the noises that you couldn't fight away. the odd moan or whimper tumbling from your lips cautiously.
completely consumed by the way her tongue flicked across your bundle of nerves, you hadn't noticed when she removed one of her hands from your thigh. you did notice, however, when you felt her push a single finger into you - her pussy clenching around her digit and a guttural moan slipping past the skin of your hand.
your body felt as if it had been set ablaze, every nerve ending on fire, every muscle taut and aching for release. when she feels your relax around her, she begins to move her finger in and out of you, slowly at first, then with increasing speed and urgency. her tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit, circling and teasing until you're sure you'll go insane from the need. your hips arch off the bed and your hand grips the edge of the desk beside you, as you meet her thrusts with your own rhythm, breath coming in ragged gasps.
you reach down, gripping her hair tightly, urging her to go deeper, faster. you feel her moan against your skin, her breath hot as it fans across the exposed skin of your pussy. you feel her finger curl, hitting that spot deep inside you that sends shudders of pleasure through your entire body. you're so close, so impossibly close, but you need more. you need her.
you arch your back, lifting your hips closer to her touch as you beg, "harder, please." the words are barely out of your mouth when you feel her press a second finger inside you, stretching you, filling you in a way that feels both foreign and achingly familiar.
her fingers move in tandem with her tongue, curling and thrusting in a perfect rhythm with the hand between your legs. you're lost in the sensation, your mind a haze of pleasure and need. too lost to remember where you are as the coil in your stomach tightens and twists at the pressure of her fingers inside you.
as if sensing your rapidly approaching release, she leans back, her breath hot against your leg. chin glistening with your arousal. "that's it, love. let go."
her fingers move faster when she feels your legs start to shake beside her head as you feel yourself begin to unravel, the tension coiling in your belly finally giving way to a powerful orgasm that sweeps through you in waves. your body convulses, your muscles tensing and releasing as pleasure ripples through you.
you cry out her name, your voice raw and desperate, as you arch your back and come apart in her hands. she murmurs words of encouragement, her breath warm against your skin, her fingers relentless in their pace. and then, finally, she slows, withdrawing her fingers from you, allowing you to catch your breath.
you both sit in an oddly comfortable silence together, inhales mirrored between you both whilst you try and navigate what just happened.
before either of you can speak, or even figure out what to say - the silence is interrupted by a knock against the door beyond you both. you raise up into a sitting position almost quicker than the speed of sound, leah lifting into a standing position between your still-spread legs with a finger pressed against her lips to silence you and wide eyes.
neither of you speaks, trying to breathe silently at the revelation of a body on the other side of the door.
"by the way, this office is not soundproof.." the voice speaks out through the door, their words barely coherent through their laughs. the pair of you now embarrassed and wanting the earth to open and swallow you whole at the presence of your friends outside the room.
"shit.."
"shit.."
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aetiologies · 2 months
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could you be tender? / zayne
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summary. he desires so violently and yet he waits.
tags. a heartbreaking amount of pining like give this man a break, he is a YEARNER, he is quite literally obsessed with the mc but not in a weird way, kind of angsty but it does get better i swear, suggestive comments, making-out, implied smut at the very end.
note. pulled out the high school level biology knowledge for this one. inspired by this quote from anaïs nin and the black pumas on repeat.
wc. 2k words
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Zayne had no intention in changing who he came to be. They say patience is a virtue only few are fortunate enough to possess, and though this may run true, he believes it to be otherwise.
It was neither a blessing nor a curse as it simply just… existed, living within him like a permanent encryption of genetic code, for better or for worse. The gods made him like this–so be it. Neither a genetic defect nor a simple computational error placed down by his own DNA polymerase could change the fact that patience was a slow digging knife into his gut. It inched deeper and deeper, slicing through layers of skin and connective tissue until it punctured through vital organs and dug into the very marrow of his bones.
Through the layers of ice so thoroughly fogged to the point of inconceivability, to you it may have looked miles deep, but in reality it was nothing but a fragile wall of glass. The simple blessing of your touch, no matter how delicate and gentle it may be, it was more than enough to splinter a crack in his countenance.
He wondered if you could see it. The look in his eyes, the desire of which was so inherently violent, the curiosity of you seeing such a thing after years of being by your side was only a delusion—a mere semblance of his pitiful hope.
You slept so soundly upon his bed, shoulders finally relaxed for once. You had been so awfully tense since your grandmother’s passing and the receival of her letters that even successfully inviting you over for dinner and a movie was a miracle. Though, you fell into slumber long before the ending credits of the film even arrived.
Zayne wondered if this was the same worry that often plagued you when you saw the fatigue tainting his under eyes after long surgery-filled shifts.
You cared about him. He cared about you too, perhaps a little too much. He became a doctor for you after all, but that was a detail you didn’t have to know—shouldn’t know, rather. Zayne was a long time family friend of yours, but he was your primary care physician first and you were his patient.
It could never be anything more than that.
That became his mantra since the start of his rather laborious career, and an even more extensive job of hiding his feelings from you.
It was kind of stupid, really. A grown man closer to the age of thirty than twenty, have fought a handful of wanderers, and one of the best cardio-thoracic surgeons in Linkon, was afraid.
Zayne laughed at himself, a short palpable huff for the ridiculousness of it all, but it was enough to cause you to stir in your sleep.
A groan escaped your lips as your eyes fluttered open, turning over your shoulder to see Zayne perched at the end of the bed with his back towards you. Confusion washed over your face then when you noticed your surroundings. Your cheeks flushed crimson then, bright even in the dim lighting. This was not the living room you recalled yourself to be in.
“Zayne—”
“Had to move you before you got a stiff neck again,” he muttered the words over his shoulder.
Now that you were awake and talking, all of a sudden his own whirlwind of thoughts were lost into the backwards oblivion of his mind again. As if the past ten minutes of him building assurance was just another thought in the wind.
He sighed, finally tossing you a look when a small grin tugged at the corners of your lips. His heavy beating heart quickens.
This is where he praised his patience rather than curse it. It was moments like this where his heart swelled just by the mere look of you, how even in dim lighting the minute details in your expression was as clear as day. It did not matter whether you had just woken up from a slumber with marks and lines of his bedsheets imprinted on your cheek as a sign of well rest or if you had dirt and blood splattered across your face from intense battle. You always had been beautiful to him and this time was no different.
If Zayne hadn’t known any better, he would have already made his way over to you and held you within his arms until you inevitably fell back asleep.
But alas… he did know better after all.
“You should’ve picked the movie,” he conceded, a look of defeat painted in his expression.
“It wasn’t that boring,” you reasoned, though unsuccessfully, the smallest hint of a smile appeared on Zayne’s peach-tinted lips. “Then again, you should’ve seen it coming when you decided to put on a black-and-white silent film, but I digress.”
Zayne clicked his tongue, head shaking in a playful disapproval. “And to think you’d appreciate such fine cinema,” He readjusted himself on the bed as he said so. He was completely facing you now and just an arm’s reach away.
You ignored the darker thoughts that lingered in the back of your mind if someone were to walk in and see the position the two of you were in then.
“Just because a movie is old, doesn’t automatically mean it’s good, you know.”
“And just because you didn’t understand the movie, doesn’t mean it was bad, either.”
A rising smirk melted upon your lips, eyes glued upon the man in front of you still in his work clothes of a starched white button-down and his black trousers. Not even a single hair was out of place and you often wondered whether or not you could make a mess out of this man.
“Why did you stay, Zayne?” you asked, breaking the silence that fell for a few odd beats.
He did not answer right away. It was as you expected as you watched his own thoughts scramble to piece together a coherent string of words behind those icy dark eyes of his.
His gaze flickers away, “just wanted to make sure you were okay while you slept.”
An easy answer, to be fair, but the most obvious one he could justify. It was neither a lie nor was it the full truth, just simply an embellished rebuttal to hopefully satiate your ever rising noisiness.
“I can take care of myself, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”
“I wasn’t expecting to stay until you woke up.” The words fell from his tongue before he could stop himself. You could see the grimace in his furrowed brow.
Zayne often prided himself in only speaking when he needed to. And within those very few words far and between, he always knew what to say and what to keep to himself no matter who he was speaking to. So, of course out of all people, you were the only one capable of watching him stumble over his words.
You cocked your head, “how come?”
“Got stuck in my own thoughts, that’s all.” He hummed.
“Do you do that often?” You damn well knew the answer to that question and Zayne only flickered you a look knowing the same. It seemed as if you wanted to rile him up today.
No matter, as patience was his virtue for today. And perhaps for the rest of his life.
“Only on special occasions,” he joked as his eyes met yours again.
“Our movie nights are a special occasion to you?” You mused as a chuckle leaves you. “I’m honored.”
“Is it not for you?” Zayne shot back. “Anything that has to do with you is a special occasion in my book.”
Pink dusted the apples of your cheeks, but you looked away and hopefully fast enough for Zayne to miss. And maybe he did, but one thing is for sure is that he most definitely did not miss the clear view of your red-tipped ears when you turned.
Zayne feigned a laugh and tried his awful best to suppress the smile that threatened to plaster his face.
Clearing your throat, you look back towards him, sitting up a bit higher now that you pulled yourself together.
“Tell me then,” you continued, “tell me what you were thinking about.”
His brows furrowed, “I believe thoughts are meant to be private.”
“Not all the time,” you argued with a look on your visage he could not quite pinpoint. “If anything, I share my thoughts with you all the time.”
Zayne leaned back as curiosity laced his words. “Oh, really? Enlighten me, then.”
You smiled, basically a reflex in your nature as your pulse quickened. You leaned closer, the gap between you deteriorated by the inch. You paused and your gaze fell upon his lips for the umpteenth time tonight. Reflex, again. Hesitance gripped at your neck but the words were not lost to you, “I dreamt of you…” you swallowed, though Zayne’s expression was as still as ice.
Perhaps you had finally rendered the man speechless as to you, it would have been a flawless and ever-sought-after victory, but rather you could see his calculated thoughts in his irises—dark and dilated. You would have been sucked into the black hole of him if you weren’t careful.
You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed. A swallow, a nervous habit, a sign of weakness, a clearing in the woods.
“Was I in a panda suit again?” he replied in a hushed voice. 
You shook your head.
“Then what?”
“I can’t spare any more details, unfortunately.” You leaned back, regaining that space but Zayne only follows suit and shrinks that gap once more.
“Why?”
“It’s your turn now,” you pointed out. “It’s only fair.”
Zayne pursed his lips together, and yet he does not pull away, he does not cower. Instead, he stayed, hand pressing into the mattress right by your leg as if to test the waters. You had every opportunity to move away, to stop what this was from happening and yet the chance was never taken.
To have presented him with such a favorable circumstance made him wonder if his wishes were finally granted. That someone watching above decided that this was the moment for him to stop waiting and to want more.
His eyes dart to your mouth, a perfectly innocuous and coincidental look. But the corner of your lips twitch and Zayne finds himself reaching for you.
At first it was a light touch, barely grazing you with his cold fingertips as they brushed against your chin, then up your jaw, until he found purchase with your cheek in the palm of his hand. You leaned into his touch, a habit you never knew you had as he pulled you in closer.
Zayne’s thumb lined the perimeter of your plump lips, brushing over the corner as it twitched again.
“I think you know,” he sighed.
And just like his fingers, Zayne’s lips just barely brush against yours. A tease if anything, and you wanted nothing more than to curse this man and his goddamn patience. His habit was anything but a blessing as you ignored all the restraint you had built up over the years and kissed him.
Properly this time.
His hands are on your face as if they were made to be there, perfect puzzle pieces nuzzled together as he kisses you back, deeper and deeper. You moan into his mouth, muffled between your lips as he hungrily devoured your lips.
Your fingers found themselves coursing through his dark locks, messing his neatly parted hair but Zayne concluded he had not a single care in the world now that he finally had you in his arms.
Your exploring fingers eventually made their way towards his neck, earning a sharp exhale from him before they wrapped around his tie.
You bring him forward, falling back onto the mattress with him on top of you. Zayne pulls away for a brief moment, devouring the sight of you and your hair splayed all over his pillows. It was just as he imagined again and again, alone in his bed with a never ending ache he could not satiate unless he succumbed to the tug and pull of his hand.
“I thought of us,” He says once his lips find yours again. His words were a mere whisper now, “and being tender like this.”
He desired so violently for you, but now his patience is nowhere to be seen.
He tugged at his tie.
Zayne could no longer wait.
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taehyungsgrowl · 2 months
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i missed u - myg x reader
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ex boyfriend yoongi...
lately @desertsunflower00 and i have not been able to shut up about an ex boyfriend!yoongi au so here i am trying to bring it to life :')
please be nice! i haven't written (for fun!) in about a year, but it's been encouraged by my therapist so here we are!
not proofread!
pairings: yoongi x y/n
warnings: feelings + avoiding feelings, exes, angst, smut (sex, making out, dry humping, hickies, unprotected sex, light exhibitionism (sorta?)
word count: 3,000
(also noteworthy: when I started this I didn't think it would be angsty, but it got away from me lol. definitely have an alternate ending in my drafts w a not as happy ending lol but I did my best to give these idiots hope in this one)
Yoongi noticed the goosebumps on your arm caused by the cool air blowing from his car. Without a second thought he adjusted the temperature to make it more comfortable for you.
He also noticed the way your eyes glanced from his face, to the hands gripping the steering wheel, and the back up to his face. With that he couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.
That was the thing about Yoongi. He noticed everything about you. Even after breaking up with him he wasn't able to erase the way he responded to you - or the way he knew you.
You sighed, forcing your eyes off of him and back on the road ahead of you. The pink sky was slowly deepening into dark shades of indigo and violet. Your heart squeezed in your chest thinking of the way things had happened with Yoongi.
"I thought I was supposed to be the quiet one," he looked over at you, soft smile on his face. Your leg continued to bounce in nervousness.
"I'm just thinking," you hope that would satisfy him enough, but just as well of Yoongi knew you - you knew him.
You knew Yoongi probably better than you knew anyone else. Yourself included some may argue.
"Hm," he hummed unimpressed with your response. "Do you want me to take you back home? If you don't want to -"
"No!" you cut him off, looking back over at him. "I want this. I missed you," you admitted. You felt your face warm and you hoped Yoongi didn't notice the nervousness coming from you.
But of course he did.
His eyes met yours for what felt like an entire minute. A million things unsaid in his gaze.
A million things you weren't sure if you were ready to hear.
But he knew that.
Instead of saying all the things he wished he could, he let out a breath he had been holding and steered the car in a different direction.
You knew the way to his house - which is where you thought you were headed - but this wasn't it.
"Where are we going?" you question, watching the tall trees as you pass by.
"We need to talk - really talk," he looked at you when he emphasized the words, "and I can't do that if I'm driving so," he points his chin forward, showing you were approaching the lake nearby. "We're making a pit stop," he smiled your favorite smile. The smile that made his eyes crinkle and his gums show proudly.
He stopped the car after parking it to perfectly face the waterfront. The remaining sun shimmered off the water. Families at the playground were packing up their things and loading their kids in minivans.
"Really talk?" you shift in your seat to face him. "What does that mean?"
"Well," he slowly reached forward and used the knuckle of his index to lift your chin to meet his deep gaze. "When you texted me earlier and said you missed me and wanted to see me..." he let the question hang in the air for a moment, taking in every detail of your face.
"What did that mean?" he finished his sentence.
Was he regretting this? You shouldn't have reached out. Maybe you should have listened to the little voice in your head - he didn't want the same thing you did.
"I do miss you and I wanted to see you." you scanned his face for any sign that he didn't actually want this as much as you.
"Right," he nodded, "But since you got in my car you've acted like I'm some stranger," he chuckled, "It's just me, Y/N."
"Did you miss me?" the question leaves your lips before you can even think to stop it.
"I don't think I'll ever stop." he spoke the words with such reverent force it makes your heart still for a second.
It's your turn to nod - agreeing with all the unspoken words between you.
With as small as the interior of his car is, you still feel him too far away. He's less than a foot away and yet the small distance feels miles long.
"I don't think much has changed," you admit - your mind racing at all the possibilities if you were to try again with Yoongi. Would it even work? Why was your mind already there? You were here with him now. Just... catching up.
"Well, my hairs gotten longer," he joked trying to ease you. He tugs at his new length. His dark looked so inviting at this length. You fought the urge to reach across and card your fingers through it.
Thick dark hair, slightly curing inward at the nape of his neck. It was probably long enough to pull up into a little bun if he wanted.
"I like it," and the urge won - your hand reaches over and caress his locks.
Yoongi halts - letting you touch him. It was the first time you've touched him since you walked away from him over a month ago.
Had it only been a month? Being without him for that long had felt so much longer.
Yoongi grabbed your wrist before you can pull your hand away from him and brings it up to his lips, softly kissing your knuckles.
"You know we don't have to have any answers right now..." he slowly lowered your hand, but continued to hold it - intertwining his fingers with yours. That brought back so many memories.
Locking hands under blankets during movie nights. Secret hand holding under dinner tables. His hand firmly guiding you through crowded streets.
His hands intertwined with yours while his face was buried between your legs.
"I just mean..." his thumb rubbed over the back of your hand in the most soothing pattern, "Let's take it one step at a time okay. This doesn't have to mean anything you don't want it to mean."
"Okay," you sigh trying to relax against his leather seat. It was what you wanted to hear, right? It didn't have to mean anything. It could just be.
It could just be you and him.
No expectations. No promises. Just now.
You let out a deep breath again, looking down at his hand holding yours.
"Does that mean we can go to your place now. To do something other than talk..."
That makes him fill the car with the sweet sound of his laughter. Low, raspy, laughter that sends a message right to your core.
You can't help but adoringly roll your eyes at his response. That eye roll made him know you felt more comfortable than when he picked you up. He could almost feel the bleak tension dissolve and be replaced with a different type of tension.
The type of tension that made him stir in his seat.
Yoongi reaches over to cup your face, pulling you in closer. Gently closing the space between you both. Seconds before he presses his lips to yours, his eyes look into yours again wanting to give you all the answers you wanted.
And with that, his pink lips pressed against yours. Gently at first. Testing the waters, kissing you so softly it almost pained you.
And then he does it again, but this time with so much more force. His kiss makes you gasp against his mouth - his lips taking claim over yours. His silky tongue traced your lips until your tongue met his.
All too soon he pulled away. His cheeks were stained pink and his lips were puffy from the force of your kiss. Yoongi's eyes held a devilish glint in them as he pulled back - knowing he left you wanting more.
"I don't think I can make it all the way back home now," he glanced down at the hardening bulge in his black jeans. You could barely make it out now that the sun had set.
The street lamp beside Yoongi's car set a soft glow to everything. The deep waters now a deep shade of black, reflected back the moons radiance.
You glanced around the lake and take in the stillness of it all. The quiet chirp of crickets somewhere in the grassy sedges. The low hum of Yoongi's engine. His soft breath fanning your face. His fingertips tenderly brushing over your lips.
You placed your hand on his crotch feeling him hardening under his jeans.
"Yoongi," your voice came out whiner than you expected. It was also the first time he heard you call his name since things ended. That did something to him he didn't quite know how to describe. But he swore he felt his heart (and his cock) grow three times in size.
"I want you so bad." The soft lighting pouring into the car made his smooth skin appear even clearer and glassier. You wanted to press your lips all over his face. Cover him in berry stained lipstick marks.
He nodded his head slightly pulling away from you to be able to shift the car into reverse. Before he could place his hand on the gear, you wrapped yours around his wrist, shaking your head 'no.'
"Here," you bit your lower lip, glancing out at the empty lake. "No one's here. No one's gonna see us," you urge, bringing his hand to your thigh.
Before he can say another word, you press your lips to his, mumbling an almost incoherent, "I can't wait," against his mouth.
"Fuck," Yoongi groaned into the kiss. "Want you too, baby."
Yoongi doesn't mean for the word to slip out, but it does.
It is messy and a little clumsy - much like how your relationship had been. But it's also what makes you and Yoongi so special to each other. There was no need for pretenses of perfection.
He scooted his seat back giving you enough room to climb over the console and into the safety of his lap. His large hands found their home along your lower back; they slipped themselves into your shirt, feeling your smooth skin all the way up to your bra strap and then back down, gripping your hips. "Y/N," he sighed, into your mouth as you grind your hips down on him.
"Let's get these off." he reached into your skirt to find your soaked panties. His long fingers traced along the wet patch you've left on them from grinding on his lap. "So wet," he mumbled almost to himself.
Lifting your hips to help him, he expertly slid them down your legs, helping you get them off. He tossed them aside before placing you back down on his lap, the steering wheel pressing into your back while he slid his hand up your thigh. Dragging each finger over the smooth surface until he was met with your wet folds. "I need to fuck you," he choked out and smashed your lips with an urgent kiss.
You let him fumble with his pants until he is able to free his leaking cock. You wished there were more light in the dim car to be able to indulge in seeing it again. The thick veins along the flushed pink shaft, the prominent head, now leaking with precum. You wanted to take it all in.
Yoongi grabbed his length in his hand guiding you as you align yourself with him. He stroke his cock along your pussy, teasingly tapping it against your clit a couple of times.
"Yoongi, please," you whined at the sudden contact, "I need you,"
"I know, baby," he shushed you, pulling you in for another kiss. He caught your lower lip between his teeth, tugging on it gently before slipping his tongue in your mouth. He grabbed your hips and pulled you in closer and you slowly sank down on his aching cock.
You winced at the stretch of his head pushing inside of you. Your arms grabbed on to the headrest behind his head and gripped it tightly as his cock stretched you open.
"Fuck," the word slipped out of your lips against his hot mouth as you felt the fullness of having his cock inside you again.
"You okay?" Yoongi pulled back and scanned your face.
"Mhm," you nodded your head. "It's just so... big," you let out a weak chuckle.
He rubbed circles along your back until his hands found their way to grip your ass.
You began to lift your hips and rocked your body on him. His large hands caught your movements as you ground yourself down on his length. Slowly at first, but quickly picking up momentum you started to ride him.
Completely feeling lost in the bliss of having so close - a part of you wished the skin of your chest could touch his. Everywhere he touched you felt like a familiar flame licking away at the time spent apart.
Like he wanted his hands to erase every minute he spent away from you.
He found his way further into your shirt, cupping your breasts in his hold. His thumbs finding your erect nipples as you bounced up and down his shaft.
The sounds of the chirping crickets and low hum of his engine - sounds that felt so loud in the stillness of the evening were now drowned out by something much more titillating.
Your breathy moans and his low groans were creating a symphony of pleasure - in that moment he swore he'd write a song someday about just how good it felt to have you in his embrace.
"Yoongi," you choked out, your legs trembled beneath you.
"Let me hear you, baby," he said into your ear, peppering sweet, wet kisses along your neck. "Who's making you feel this good?"
"You..." you tilted your head back providing more access to your neck. He sank his teeth into your skin, making you hiss in pleasure.
"You... you're making me feel so good. No one else..." you babbled as he sucked on the most delicate part of your neck.
The spot on your neck that made your thighs squeeze together - but he knew that. He knew every spot that made your heart race.
"No one else, hm?" that smug smile spread across his face again. You wanted nothing more than to kiss it off of him.
He noticed your hands gripping the back of his headrest and frowned. He grabbed your wrist and placed your hands in his hair. His eyes silently begged and you complied.
You tangled your fingers in his dark locks and tugged at the root of his long hair as you chased your orgasm.
Yoongi's moan mixed with yours as you pulled on his hair the closer you got to cumming on his cock.
"Keep going, you're doing so well..." his eyes rolled back and his hands gripped on to your hips tightly. You sensed the bruise of his fingertips engraving into your skin.
Just another way Yoongi left his mark on you.
But bruises and hickies fade over time - you weren't sure if the mark he made in your heart would ever really go away.
Not when he looked at you like you hung the stars for him. And you would. You'd give him the stars and moon and everything he asked for if he wanted.
"Gonna cum," he groaned, hiding his face in your neck peppering the skin with little kisses, moaning against your collarbone.
He felt your nails dig into his shoulders as you came undone along with him. Your fluids mixed as he filled your cunt with his cum. You collapsed forward onto him, resting your head on his shoulder as he held you. Your legs twitched as your orgasm hit.
Yoongi held you until your breathing returned to normal. He idly rubbed up and down your back, softly kissing your temples every now and then whispering sweet praises to you.
"I don't wanna move," you mumbled, your eyes closed just listening to Yoongi's soft, even breaths.
"Then don't move," he brushed his hands over your cheek. "Just stay like this with me."
You let out a tired laugh - could it really be that easy? To stay with him?
You knew there was so much that was still left unsaid.
"I should go home," you sat up straighter on his lap to take a good look at him. You hated how it felt like another goodbye.
"Y/N."
You shook your head and started to lift yourself off of him. you both winced at the feeling of his cock leaving your pussy. Yoongi did his best to help get you clean, wiping up your thighs, silently cleaning you up before you crawled back to your seat.
"Are you regretting it?" his lips were set in a straight line and his tone shot an arrow to your chest. The last thing you wanted was to hurt him.
"What?" you met his fixed look, trying to read behind the hardness in his eyes.
He lifted an eyebrow waiting for your answer. He didn't bother repeating the question he knew you heard.
"No," you reached for his hand, using both of yours to cup one of his. "Just... not knowing what happens next makes it feel like goodbye again and... I don't think I'm ready for that," you admit.
His eyes soften hearing you admit you don't want to say goodbye to him again.
You didn't know if a relationship with Yoongi would work out or not at this time. Really, what growth could have happened in the month apart to make him ready?
"One step at a time, okay?" he reminded you gently.
You nodded your head, allowing him to pull you back into another kiss.
"I wanna be someone you deserve," he whispered against your mouth.
Every part of you wanted to ignore the ways he had fucked up in the past and tell him it was all okay - but you couldn't lie to yourself or him. You both needed time.
"One step at a time," you repeated those words to him before kissing him back again.
--
THANK YOU FOR READING! was vry nervous to post bc I haven't done it in so long, but this was really fun to write! I didn't realize how much I missed it and ofc I feel so rusty so I hope you enjoyed <3
tagging some of my fav creators on here: @gimmethatagustd @raplinesmoon @wonhosmistress
(also pls lmk if you don't wanna be tagged! last time I posted I was in a writing network and it was shut down so now idk what the etiquette for sharing/tagging is im sorry fdkgjd ily I haven't been on here in a while but can't wait to catch up/re-read some of my fav fics too)
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heizours · 9 months
Text
COLLAPSING CONSCIOUSNESS
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summary. when you faint in the middle of an argument with them (requested)
tags. gn! reader, grammatical mistakes may occur
cw. reader passes out, signs of fainting beforehand, call signs of endearmeant, there are parts where they think that the reader won’t wake up again out of panic, angsty in the beginning
feat. heizou, ayato, xiao
note: i have a history about fainting but i can't tell if what i wrote was accurate enough but, pls lmk if there's something that i should change especially in the warnings.
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HEIZOU.
First off, what was the cause of the argument? I don't think big fights would occur between you and him, you see Heizou is a rational thinker and whatever dispute there will be between the two of you — he is willing to solve it right away. He hates it when the both of you are not in good terms.
How would he react if you fainted? Heizou would be frozen at first, but once his senses reach him, he reacts to it immediately once he sees you in an unconscious state or you're just about to fall unconscious.
He is a great detective that is level headed even in the brink of danger but when it comes to you, all those greatness disappears because you're the only one who can make him this vulnerable.
"And I came back, all in one piece aren't I? [Name], what's all got you so worked up over this plain case?" Heizou's tone remained stern, as he tried to keep this little dispute under good wraps.
However the problem here is, he isn't getting your point of view. He is talking about how easy this case was, while here you were at you're wits end after gathering information that this case he claimed to be easy, is very dangerous to the point it can costs his life if he wasn't careful enough in the first place.
To add more gasoline to the fire, he had gotten an injury from it and tried to also hide it from your prying eyes which just increased your disappointment in him.
“You’re simply not getting it, I am getting worked up because if you weren’t careful enough, you could have killed yourself. Speaking of coming back in ‘one piece’, how about that injury you had taken from it huh?” You backfired, as the temperature in the room continues to rise between the two of you.
You could feel the continuous pulse in your head and the sudden need to go to the bathroom as the a tense feeling climbs up your throat, yet you paid no attention to it, thinking it’s nothing more than that.
But, you were very wrong about it. As the argument escalates further, so does your need to breathe and get much air as possible, continues to increase rapidly as well.
Sick of simply hearing his repeated explanation, you decided to stand up from the chair you were seating, finding a pace to cool off and avoiding the path where you could possibly lash out on him.
Unexpectedly, you find yourself standing steadily on the floor for a moment as the noises around started to gradually fade away.
There is this feeling from within you that you need some air or you want to puke, you tried to remain unaffected, ignoring the concern look Heizou was giving you after stopping in place.
It didn't stop there- your sense of hearing was starting to get fuzzy almost turning you deaf as Heizou’s words were beginning to be incoherent in your part. 
You could feel the air inside your body being sucked out, like you're losing the oxygen that you need, and black spots began clouding your vision, not before the world before you was spinning.
You heard someone shouting and shaking you vigorously, and with all your might you tried to respond back yet nothing came out, as your mouth remained open without saying anything. 
Your body was starting to lose it's balance as it started to fall carelessly, and the last thing you felt before losing yourself was a gentle yet firm hand wrapped around you.
---
Frozen.
That’s what Heizou had felt when you fell right into his arms.
Looking back at what happened when you’re already laid out in his arms, he could still clearly remember how his eyes widened in fear, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do. His thoughts were scattered all around the place, as all he could think about is to get you urgent help, but at the same time he doesn’t want to leave you by yourself.
He remembers it all too well, how he finds himself trembling slightly, frozen in place and filled with deep regret by his unthinkable actions. 
You were just looking out for his safety, like he have always did back at you, yet when you’re the one who reprimanded him to be careful, all he did was caused you further harm. You didn’t want to let him know the uneasiness you were feeling, and that what greatly fears him the most.
What if you never wake up again?
---
As you fluttered your eyes open, you were met by a ceiling, as you process what just happened not too long ago - Heizou, who was sitting right beside you caught wind of your consciousness and sat right up.
"..[Name]? Can you hear me?" He spoked with such tone that you could feel that a part of his voice cracked out of nervousness and worriedness because of how he was fidgeting in his seat.
You turned your head at his direction, silently observing him - he seemed to be in such a distress by how he looked. As you tried to sit up from the bed you were resting on, Heizou didn’t waste a millisecond of helping you be comfortable in the position you wanted.
"W-what happened?"
You stuttered out, while still feeling a little drowsy from the incident.
"...You f-fainted, it happened right in front of me while we were having a misunderstanding. Before you could fall on the ground, I made it near you as soon as I can so that the fall wouldn't be worse than what I am imagining." Heizou started, as he began to fidget once again and bit his lip to prevent the tears that are threatening to come out.
"Y-you were unresponsive [Name], I was trying to shake you, to get something out from you, anything to let me know that you're still there, my cries of help was heard by the General Gorou, he and his comrades calmed and distract me down while a healer was called upon by the Young Priestess."
He continued.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry that I made you feel this way my love. If - I wasn't so stubborn to listen to your concerns, maybe this could have been avoided. What I did, was horrible - I shouldn't have been angry about what you said, I had let my words get the best of me during the heat of the moment, I'm sorry."
He finished, averting his eyes away from you out of shame.
As soon as you heard his side of the story, you leaned forward to cup his cheek into your hand, turning him to face you. Despite the tiredness, you let out a grim yet genuine smile along his way, as if to assure him that you too are sorry.
"Oh my love, hush now - I'm alive and still breathing here and right in front of you, see? Do not take all the blame by yourself, as I have a fault too. I'm sorry for lashing out on you like that, when all you did was doing as you're told to, and for making you worried as well. We we're both in the wrong." You replied
Heizou grabbed the hand that was cupping his cheek, snuggled into it before giving a long peck on it before turning to look at you.
"I'm so glad you're alright, I really am. My heart, it always beats for your name, it calls your name and you have no idea how it dropped in a heartbeat like how you dropped in my arms."
He leaned in for a peck on your forehead, before grabbing your face gently into his hands, as if he was holding the whole world.
"You, you are the very essence of my existence"
Heizou finished. 
All the tension, fear, anxiousness and pent up emotions that he was holding while you were resting unconsciously was now free, away from it’s cage. The detective couldn't help but to smile at you, that is so full of love and care.
"Now, it's time for you to rest easy again my love. I suppose we won’t be stubborn for the meantime, aren’t we?"
He affirmed while hinting you with a joke at the end of his reminder about your stubbornness, that he also sometimes has.
You couldn’t help but laugh in response, before nodding.
All is well now, and the both of you couldn’t ask for more. What makes the moment more significant, is that you both knew.
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AYATO.
Arguments doesn’t occur often as well when you’re in an established relationship with the Kamisato Head, but if minor disputes were to emerge between the two of you, he would like to cool things off like giving you space and him some space to sort things out. 
How would he react if you fainted while the both of you are in the middle quarrel? He would immediately set aside whatever the both of you are fighting about, and he’ll be catching you the moment that his instinct tells him so that you’re not feeling well.
He tries to be calm, but his strained voice tells another story. When threat comes close to you that is too much for his comfort, his serene image falls into shambles.
“I don’t know when will I come back, but if the night is already falling late, please do not wait for me anymore, darling.” Ayato announced, still busy on his table
Recently, Ayato has been trapping his self inside his office and has been going on for a while now, much to Ayaka’s concern. At first, you didn’t tried to intervene with it even though you’re worried, since you knew how much your significant other cares about the well-being of the common people.
But, judging by how much he is being selfless to the point where he is not even properly taking care of himself, you decided to step in and pay him a visit with a tray of tea in your hand. You started off with a conversation and then brought up the idea of him taking a break, by drinking the tea you had visited him along with, and as usual - what he had said earlier was his response to your offer.
The situation isn’t getting any better, especially that you have sensed that you’re not feeling like yourself as well. Despite that, you pushed away what you’re feeling at the moment, and chose to persuade Ayato to rest instead.
“Then, can you at least drink the tea I have prepared for you? I’m worried, Ayaka’s worried, we’re all worried about you.” I expressed ignoring the lightheaded feeling that is coming from within me.
“[Name], as much as I would rather do it, I can’t have this documents hanging around. You know that right? Please leave me be while I am still having the patience to do so.” Ayato argued back, his voice trying to sound calm and gentle as possible yet it sounded disapproving.
This time, what you were feeling that you dismissed not too long ago, somehow become worst. In fear that you’ll add more to Ayato’s pent up stress, you just silently agreed and gave up the fight, deciding to take the rest and you’ll try again tomorrow. 
Turning your back on him, your body suddenly felt the need to fall - your vision began spotting black and white forces as if it’s forcing you to close your eyes, then came in an annoying yet blurred ring in your ears.
It doesn’t stop there, you could feel your head hanging low, you’re body was rapidly falling and you have nothing to lean on to.
Before you can even entirely fall, Ayato grabbed you by the waist preventing you from the incoming impact. By the time he sat down with you on the floor, you were already unconscious. 
Ayato turned your body around so you’re facing him, tapped your cheek multiple times, and shook you gently awake, but to no avail, you remain unresponsive.
---
Guilty.
That’s what Ayato felt, looking from the situation you were in right now.
Not once did he left your side the moment you fell senseless in his arms, no he didn’t want to take the chance - and instead shouted with all his might, that he has never done before, to get you instant help. 
And he still hasn’t left you alone, as you were laid down on a futon that you’re resting upon. For once in a blue moon, Kamisato Ayato was scared of even leaving you out of his sight. 
It creeps upon him, that all you did was cared and understand him as a busy man, all you asked for once is for him to take a rest even though you should also be doing that to yourself, but no - you putted him first before your well being, and that what makes him feel that he should be accountable for what happened to you.
---
The first thing your eyes laid upon was Ayato, who continued to seat in deep silence, not until when he looked at the slight sound that was caught up by his ears, as he let out quiet gasp of surprise and relief.
As you fidget to sit up from the futon, Ayato took action and gently helped you sit right up. When you finally settled down, he continued to stare at you in silence, but his eyes tells a different story.
They softened at the sight of you, but despite that they were also letting you know how much ache, and ashamed do they feel from putting you in this kind of state.
“...You’re alright, I’m glad.” Ayato whispered, the relief relevant at the tone of his voice, yet you could also that there’s a part in him that just wants to burst out in tears, seeing that you’re still here in front of him, alive and breathing once again.
You looked at him tenderly, as you reached out to grab his hand and squeezed it tenderly and gently, to affirm him that all is alright.
That was the breaking point.
It was Ayato’s last straw, as the tears he was trying to push away to put up his casual facade finally began to stream silently. He brought your hand near his lips, as he pecked it gently and held your hand closer to his face, rubbing it on his cheek, as if holding your hand was his lifeline.
“..I’m sorry, I truly am. I’m sorry for denying your care, I’m sorry for denying your concern and worries, I’m sorry that I made you feel this way. It was not what I intend to do darling, maybe if I did agree for that cup of tea, this situation would have been prevented, and you could have been able to tell me.”
He expressed, the regret clearly evident in his voice, as he grasped on tightly yet gently to your arm that he brought closer to him, placing a light peck every now and then as if it was an assurance to him that you’re still here right beside him.
You cupped his face by cupping your other hand on the other side of his cheek, as if you were holding the whole world in your hands right now, gesturing him to look at you in the eye. Never once did you look at him with such hatred nor misunderstand, but instead kept up the sentimental look that you always used to.
“We were both in the wrong, I hid how unwell I was feeling because I didn’t want to be a burden to you nor be added as something that can distract you. But what matters the most to me right now, is that all is well, my darling.”
You stated, as a gentle smile made it’s way on your face even though a little bit the drowsy feeling is still present there.
Ayato couldn’t help but smile back, as he let out a big sigh of relief, not before affirming you with such words you couldn’t help but feel giddy about.
“From this day forward, I will save the time to rest from being a workaholic man, and I am expecting that you, are to rest with me as well. Will that be a good negotiation between us, darling?”
Ayato replied with a hint of tease at the end of his sentence, as you nodded while laughing lightly - glad that he seemed to be in good spirits now.
He looked at you with such a tender face, as if you’re the whole purpose of his life, that he couldn’t help but to blurt out such words, it just adds to the evidence that despite being focused on his work in the past few days, all he could think and miss about was you.
“I burn for you, [Name], I’ve always been.”
Ayato whispered lovingly.
Stuck in the midst of the sincere moment, the both of you couldn’t ask for more other than the fact, that the love between the two of you is still burning, and it increased more than ever.
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XIAO.
Arguments with Xiao tend to be a little rocky, only in the beginning of your relationship though. He avoids bringing arguments into the relationship but if the argument continues to grow bigger like a raging fire, he wants things to not be as worst as it already is, and would try to sort things out in the best way he thinks it would work.
How would he react if you fainted? Xiao won’t have time to comprehend what is happening, because as soon as he senses that something about you is not right, he would be right by your side in a heartbeat. His priority first is to get you to safety, before he would ask such things.
He can’t  find a way to stay put, because even if Xiao can stay level headed at such emergencies, he can’t act the same when you’re the one being directly involved.
“...This isn't working out” Xiao said, breaking the tense silence between the two of you after a brief moment.
The argument wasn’t that bad at first, but as the both of you backfired such words at each other, it had came to the point where it is already big as it is before the both of you could even realize it.
Stuck in the midst of trying to mend again the misunderstanding in each other’s perspective, you forgot the fact that you’re not feeling well at the meantime as well, wanting for this argument to be fixed up first.
Looking back at what he previously said - You freeze in your spot, almost as if a bucket of cold water was dump right at your face. You couldn’t find the right words to respond to it, almost as if you’re questioning if Xiao really thinks about it like that.
Xiao’s back remained turned against you, arms crossed as you were right behind him almost in the dark, if not for the moon illuminating some light across his room in Wangshu Inn.
Your breath becomes shaky, but you remained your ground.
“....Well, do you love me?”
You asked, dodging the question he gave and instead gave him another one taking in slow deep breaths maintaining a good pace in hopes that the ringing in your ears would soon stop.
Xiao stood silent, back still facing you - If only you could see how his eyes widened slightly at the question.
“This isn’t the right time for you to be asking m-”
“Do you love me?”
You asked again, ignoring the sudden light headedness that washed over you, as you tried to plant your feet on the ground. The air was silent for a moment, but something was not right, almost as if something more eventful would happen.
Every millisecond that passes by as you await for his answer, your body starts wobbling on it’s own, as black and white spots began to cloud your vision.
This time, Xiao turned his back on you, but before he could give his answer, he gasp in shock at the state you’re in. Your face was pale, and it seemed that at any minute or even second your body would give up on you.
The high pitched ringing in your ears was more vigorous than ever, and your body screams for you to do something. The blood that flows right through you suddenly drops, as your consciousness leaves you, but before you can fall with a loud thud, a firm grip held you down.
---
Clammy.
Xiao’s hands was clammy from the nervousness and guiltiness sucking him in.
His voice was caught in his throat the moment he caught you, as he tried to speak, to shout for help, anything at all, but all he managed was to inhale a harsh breath, as his grip on your unconscious body tightened.
And at last, for the first time in his life, Xiao shouted for help, he didn’t care who it was, anyone will do, as all he knows is that he can’t lose you right at this moment, not now, not ever. 
The tone in his voice still held with the same firmness but if anyone were to listen closer, it was at the verge of cracking from despair, as he tried to gently shook you awake while still calling out for help.
He looked down on you, worried flickering in his eyes as the minutes continued to passed by, while the gut in his stomach continued to dig deeper, it was such a sickening feeling that he thinks he’s about to go crazy.
---
You stirred in the futon, as you slowly gained back your consciousness - eyes darting around the room looking for a certain person, until your eyes landed on him who’s at the balcony, staring off into space outside, as he gripped the wooden railings to ease down his thoughts.
“..Xiao?”
Your voice came out as weak as you’re still recovering especially at a state like that, but Xiao heard it all too well as his eyes snapped open in your direction.
The both of you had a stare off for a moment, and before you knew it, he was right in front of you in just a few strides, as he kneeled down at the side of your futon.
You slowly sat up, as Xiao helped you gently. The both of you still as quiet as ever, that is until you caressed Xiao’s cheek giving him an assuring look.
He let out a shaky sigh of relief, as if the weight in all his body has been now lifted, as he lifted his hand to grasp and caress your hand, leaning further into your touch, as if it was his lifeline.
“..Don’t scare me like that again, alright?”
Xiao whispered, almost too quiet as his voice was on the verge of cracking again - this time not from the despair he felt not too long ago, but because from the comfort and solace provided by your warm touch.
There was a beat drop of silence before the yaksha glances at you once again, still with a heavy heart from the events that took place not too far ago.
"..My life...it revolves around you. You are the reason I breathe, you are the reason I continue to live. Telling you that I love you is an understatement to begin with, because it would not be enough for how much you mean to me."
Your eyes soften as Xiao stated those words with a sincere tone, as he pressed a peck on your wrist, looking at you still as if you are star that hang and brought back the light in his life. It was his own way of apologizing to you.
"We will work this out.."
Xiao continued, nodding at you with affirmation and determination.
"We will"
You repeated with a light yet groggy chuckle, as Xiao pressed a kiss on your forehead this time, before gently placing his hand at the back of your head bringing the both of your foreheads closer to each other.
"Rest, and after that we will talk and fix this out calmly"
He whispered.
No words were spoken after that, but the both of you knew this was enough assurance that in every afterglow, there is a daylight. The both of you will work this out just fine.
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silassinclair · 2 months
Note
Hi! It's me the "Maddox with a sassy y/n" annon. Omg i just saw your post and it made my Whole Week! 😭
Thank you so much!
Anyway, i have a new request (if that is alright). I saw that you have a yandere Boxer but i didn't see to much info on him.
Could we get an introduction or some information for him? I'm really curious.
As always, have great day/night! ✨
Sorry this took a while to answer, just came back from the Philippines and I saw this req in my inbox. I’ve been waiting to write for him so now I have the chance to!! Hope you like it :D Also the beginning of this is really long, boring, and angsty but bear with me ya'll :) Also the Russian is google translate so it may be inaccurate :(
Masterlist Here!!
Next Part Here!!
Yandere Boxer x Reader
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Viktor Markov was not the man you thought he was; well, not anymore. You both were raised in a small eastern European town. Him being the boy next door; always covered in dirt and was the sweetest little boy who would bring you flowers and bugs that he found. And you were the weird little girl who would collect the rocks and flowers that he gifted you with a smile. So naturally the two of you became friends, two peas in a pod.
He always had your back and you always had his. Growing up together in eastern Europe was hard. Both of you came from a pretty rough neighborhood and home life but that didn't stop you two from being happy. After all you only needed each other. It was just you two against the world. And it was like that for years.
Well, that was until high school. Viktor stopped talking to you in Sophomore year. Your calls went ignored, socials un-interacted, and texts delivered. So you just gave up. You no longer chased after him or begged him to tell you what was wrong when all he did was give you a cold shoulder. And honestly, you just didn't want to be around him anymore.
He got in with a bad crowd. Some upperclassmen guys who would just skip class to smoke. And seeing your childhood best friend become one of them broke your heart. You tried, you really did. But instead the blonde snapped at you, telling you to stop acting like his Mother and that he didn't need you anymore. And he was right, Viktor was more grown up now. Hard jawline, firm muscles, and standing at a staggering 6'3 feet tall.
He didn't need your back anymore.
And you didn't need his.
High school was a blur. You kept to your studies and only had a small circle of friends that consisted of all girls who have all been friends longer than before you ever came around. You were the grass friend. They all walked on the sidewalk while you trailed behind to the side; always stepping in the mud and grass. They weren't really your friends, you just didn't want to be alone. And they didn't see you as a friend, they just didn't want you to be alone. Pitiful isn't it?
But none of it mattered. It was all over and done in the blink of an eye. After high school was university and in university was medical school and after medical school was a new beginning. Being a docotor was never really your dream. It was your parent's dream and they just wanted the best for their little girl. You didn't want to disapoint them and go to culinary school like what you really wanted. So you worked and went to med school at the same time.
It was hard. It really was. You have no friends, no social life, and no one has your back. Yet it's your job to have people's backs. Ironic and unfair. But that's life.
Money was getting tight. Paying off student loans and working multiple jobs was getting exhausting. Living? No, it felt like you were dying. But you got offered a job you could not refuse. A patient came into your office. It was an older man in his early 50s.
"You're quite quiet for a doctor." He says. "Shy thing are you?"
You give him a silent nod. Hopefully this conversation doesn't take the turn you don't want it to take. Getting harassed by patients as a woman doctor is scarily common.
"I need a doctor. One like you; diligent, quiet, and quite the eye candy. Work for me krasivyy (beautiful). The pay is better than working in this heap clinic."
You eye him oddlyand whisper, "Why do you need me? Do you want me to be one of those underworld doctors or something? If so then no. I won't be patching up assassins or serial killers."
The man laughs, his voice booming in the small examination room.
"No no. You won't be dealing with any of those type. But this still is underground as you say. I own an underground boxing ring. And I need a doctor to patch up my fighters. Illegal, but good pay no?
You thought about it for two minutes then finally gave your answer.
“When do I start?”
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The man’s name is Radko. And right now you’re in his gym. It’s dark, stinky, and full of shirtless men training for their next match. You thought you felt out of place in school? Nope, this is 100x worse. And some of these guys are acting like they’ve never seen a woman before.
“Stop looking at me like that weirdo.” You think to yourself while walking past a guy on a bench who’s wiping the sweat off his chest. His hungry gaze on you sends shivers down your spine.
“Ignore their stares.” Radko puts a rough hand on your shoulder. “They’re not used to seeing pretty women.”
“Yeah I can see that.” You mutter.
You two stop in front of the door near the back of the gym. It says “Clinic” in front of the door. He opens the door and you’re greeted with a surprisingly clean office. Radko must have cleaned up a little when he knew you would be coming.
“This is where you’ll be. Some guys will walk in pretty roughed up. Just patch em up abd send them on their way. If any of em try anything with you, you tell me right away. Okay?”
Radko was like a Dad and you liked that about him. A pretty intimidating Dad who owns an illegal boxing ring but what does that matter. Doesn’t particularly make him a bad person.
“Okay. Thank you.” You say with a warm smile.
“Ah you’re so milyy (cute)! Please don’t quit within the first week, I don’t think my heart can handle it if you go.” Radko says and hugs you. You give the big man a pat on the back in return.
“I’ll leave you to it now. You’ll receive your pay bi-weekly. See you now.”
And with that you were left alone. You were left in a small private clinic you could call your own. Maybe this job wouldn’t be as bad as you thought? But all positive thoughts flew out the window when your first patient of the day walked in.
Tall, pale, short blonde hair, scarred torso, muscle on muscle, and piercing blue eyes. All features of someone whom you thought you would never see again. Who you never wanted to see again.
“Kroshechnyy?” (Tiny)
God that nick name. There was a time it would make you smile and laugh. But now it just pissed you off. He had the audacity to call you that as if you two were still buddy buddy? No, fuck that. Fuck him.
“It’s Y/n to you now. What do you want Viktor?”
The man’s face creased with pain. Not physical, no, something worse.
“What are you doing here? This place isn’t for you.” His voice was a deeper timbre from when you last spoke to him Sophomore year. He walks closer to you and you can smell his sweat from training but also… Jean Paul Gaultier? Why would you wear designer fragrance at a gym? Weirdo.
Little did you know when he saw you walk in the gym he immediately raced to the locker room to freshen up and see you.
“I’m a doctor. I got a side job from Radko.” You explain swiftly. “If you’re uninjured then please leave. Other patients may come in with actual reasons to see me.”
Rather than face to face you’re face to chest with him. How the hell did he get so tall? You crane your neck up to meet his eyes.
His expression stiffens. His usual cold demeanor returns.
“You shouldn’t be here. This place isn’t for you. It’s dangerous.”
You roll your eyes. “I think I can manage. Now please leave me alone. You’re the last person I ever want to see.”
Viktor ignores the comment and his gaze remains ice cold. You nearly shiver, did the room temperature drop?
“Stop acting childish. Tell Rad that you quit.”
“But I’m not quitting.”
He steps closer.
“I’ll make you.”
“And what are you gonna do?”
He bends down to your level and scoffs.
“I don’t need to lift a finger. You’ll get scared and run off with your tail between those little legs of yours. These men here will eat you alive.”
Did he not think you knew that before you signed up for all this? You were aware of what you walked into. Underground gym, surrounded by men, all physically fit to the max. They could rip you in half. But you needed this job. There wasn’t time to be afraid.
“Yeah yeah I know. I don’t need your lecture. Now get out before I tell Radko.”
Viktor leans closer. His nose mere centimeters from yours.
“Don’t come crying to me when you get hurt.”
“If I get hurt then I’ll just patch myself up. I didn’t go through 4 years of med school just to cry when I’m in pain.”
The tall Russian growls lowly to himself and leaves, not before slamming the door of course.
“Fuck…”
This new job of yours just got worse tenfold.
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It’s been about two weeks since you started working here. And you’ve met all of Radko’s men. They weren’t as bad as you thought they would be. Yeah they would flirt with you but not in the gross way. They knew when to quit.
Well, all of them except for Vladimir. The same one who eyed you like a piece of meat the first day you came here. Everyday he would come to the clinic to shoot his shot. And everyday you turned him down.
“Little kotenok (kitten) is still feisty.” Vladimir clicks his tongue. He manspreads in the examination chair, flexing his ab muscles and turning his head to the side to show off his impressive jawline. But all it does is un-impress you.
“If you’re going to waste my time like this everyday then I’m going to tell Radko.” You firmly state and cross your arms.
Like a kicked puppy the boxer whines, “Nooooo. I’m sorry please don’t kick me out. This is the only room besides Coach’s that is air conditioned.”
You can’t help but chuckle at that.
“Not my problem, do an ice bath or something.”
Vladimir chuckles and goes to say something else but stops himself when he sees and hears the door open. You also turn your attention to the door, wondering who it is and why they didn’t knock.
“Get out.” Viktor says. His voice like stone, as is his glare. His bloody swollen eye only ads to his intimidating aura.
Vladimir gets out of the chair and groans. “Way to be a cockblock Vicky.” He says mockingly.
You were about to shoot in and say how there was no way you would give him the light of day but Viktor had other plans. His fist makes contact with Vladimir’s abdomen with a mean punch. Making the other man wheeze and keel over in pain.
“Get the fuck out.” Viktor grabs him by the hair and kicks him out of the office. Literally. The door then slams shut, leaving you alone with your heated childhood friend.
“Thanks…” You mutter. Unable to look into his eyes, well… eye. The other is swollen shut.
He grunts and sits on the examination bed. Getting into doctor mode you walk over to Viktor and assess the damage. There’s a few bruises on his ribs but his eyes seem to be the worst. Delicately you touch part of the bruised eye and he inwardly flinches, making you draw your hand back in an instant.
“What happened?” You softly ask.
“Alexei sucker punched me. Dick.”
You stifle a laugh, making your patient deadpan. “Typical Alexi. I’ll tell him off the next time he comes in here complaining about his stomach aches.”
Viktor and you are silent when you rub ointment on his bruises. After the ointment is all done you hand him an icepack.
“Use this for the eye.”
He nods and thanks you with a silent nod. Then, he leaves just like that.
After that you would see more of Viktor and less Vladimir. To be honest you’ve been seeing less of everyone. Everyday Viktor came in with new reasons to come to you. Headaches, head trauma, bruises, scratches, and the worst was a dislocation.
“What is it this time?” You don’t even need to face the door to know who it is.
“He needs help!”
You whip around immediately, nearly spilling your coffee. You see Alexi and Cain at the door and draped over their shoulders is an unconscious Vladimir. You run over to them and tell them to lay Vladimir down on the bed gently while you assess his condition.
“What happened!?” You say worriedly. He was barely breathing. You begin doing chest compressions.
“We found him outside. Some of those bastards from west gym probably did this to him…” Cain says, his eyes are full of rage.
The compressions aren’t working. So instead you ready up the life support. He won’t last long with traumatic brain injuries like this.
“What’s gonna happen to him Doc?” Alexi sounds the most worried. He’s just a kid, only being 17.
“I’m putting him under life support.” And it was damn hard to do it on your own.
“Thank you.” Cain says. He puts a hand on the small of Alexi’s back. “Let’s leave her alone. She’s busy.”
The two men leave. Leaving you alone with Vladimir who has one foot in hell. No offense Vladimir, but no way you’re going to heaven. All day you stay by Vladimir’s side. Other men come in to check on him or get patch ups. And you go about your job, leaving the unconscious man to rest on the bed.
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If I knew she would be stuck to his side like glue then I never would have beaten the fucker half to death. The plan was to kill him but the stubborn bastard just didn’t want to die. I watch Y/n from outside the clinic. The window’s blinds are open. She’s so close yet so far; always out of my reach. Part of it is my fault. I was the one who pushed her away after all.
But I had no choice. I didn’t want her involved with the people I was involved with in high school. I needed them in order to get some side jobs. Hell, a couple of them box for Radko too at this gym. I thought Y/n would be gone from my life for good, but I was wrong. I thought God was punishing me for the things I have done but it seems like he took pity on me just this once by bringing her back to me and letting me have a second chance.
But so far I’m making no progress. What even is love? I know I love her but I don’t know how. All I know is that I need to protect her from all the wolves here. I already staked my claim on her but one fucker didn’t want to listen. Vladimir, that egotistical thorn in my side. The next chance I get I'll kill him for good. It's not like this is my first time killing for her after all.
High school was when I first took someone's life. Some upperclassman bitch was harassing Y/n. I couldn't stand watching her suffer. And I couldn't comfort her like before when we were young; by this time I already cut off Y/n for good. But I knew there was something I could do. So I killed her. And I killed anyone who dared breathe Y/n's name wrong.
I'll do whatever I can to protect the love of my life. Slowly, little by little, I'll win her back. She'll be mine again and we'll be even closer than friends. But for now I'll do what I can to keep her safe from the sidelines. Even if it means she'll find out and hate me forever.
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