#Sorry I'm emotional about this and it's worded bad it's late and I have not been sleeping well

[chosok-amo]

SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

“suguru, help!” he sounds, pathetic. gojo satoru is a pathetic man when it comes to you. “ . . . there are so many kisses to have, soul and bone for you to crash and swear that how stars are born, so please. . ., believe me, you have to believe me,” he cries, holding your hands, begging for you to love him— love him enough to stay.

warning : age-up! satosugu, depressed! fem x reader, drug mention, trauma mention, suicide, self-harm, death mention, drowning, blood, heavy angst.

w/c : 6,2k | [☆] MASTERLIST

𝜗𝜚 . . . . i had to stop so often writing this because i can't stop crying and think that i shouldn't continue because it hurts me so bad that i have to take a cold shower and think about my life. and honestly, i wasn't supposed to write the last part but yeah..

A MINUTES AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

it was too quiet. . .

gojo satoru never screams so loud in his entire life, so loud. . . the world shaking beneath his feet, ready to swallow him whole and rotten. so loud . . . he sure he can no longer hear. he ran, slipping on his way until he broke his knee on the puddle of the red, transparent liquid that spill from the bath-up.

the starling sigh, you were there. . .

“no, no, no, baby— no.”

the water, tinged with a haunting crimson, surged and overflowed, cascading into the bathroom with relentless force. it climbed steadily up gojo's legs, as if the liquid itself sought to ensnare him, to drag him down into its suffocating embrace, or just. . . mock him.

a dark mockery that seemed to whisper that it alone held the power to drown him, to swallow your trembling breaths and the last echoes of your voice. it wasn’t him, or geto suguru who was to be your executioner, but the merciless water, eager to claim your final, stutter breath.

“i-i —sorry, i’m sorry..” you stammered.

your voice stammered between choke, barely a murmur beneath the frothy waves, struggled to be heard amidst the tumult. your eyes, devoid of warmth, reflected a chilling detachment. the coldness in your gaze was almost tangible, a stark contrast to the chaotic, drowning world around you.

“suguru, help!” he sounds, pathetic.

gojo, even on the verge of your death is still so gentle, as if he's afraid you are going to die than you already are. dropping on his knees as he tries to pull your warm bodies out of the bath-up.

gojo shook his head, a soft whisper escaping from his trembling lips, “shhh, it's alright baby, it's alright, you're alright,” his mumble, each word a fragile promise against the storm of his own emotions— words and voice shaking, his bones and soul shivering. his strong arm wraps around your body, pulling you closer to his chest, feeling everything, even as his flesh trembling.

tears cascaded from the corner of your eyes, tracing silken paths down your skin, while his embrace, though trembling, sought to cradle and calm you, a sanctuary against the turbulence of your anguish.

“suguru, please help!” again, this time he shouted.

geto runs upon hearing the horror howling, and his purple irises about to peel from his face and his lungs lose air— ragged gasps, as if each inhale were stolen from him. the scene before him struck with a painful clarity: you nestled within gojo’s embrace, your body wracked with distress.

foaming at the mouth, you appeared trapped in a tormenting grip of anguish, while the open scars on your wrist bled stories of suffering and desperation. in that moment, the sight was both heart-wrenching and surreal, a vivid tableau of fear and pain, painted across the canvas of his deepest fears.

“i'm sorry— i-i'm so sorry,” you whisper between choking gasps as geto kneels beside you and your body shaking. tears cascade uncontrollably, each dropping a shimmering testament to a sudden, overwhelming regret. it is as though a profound realization has swept over you, too late to mend the wounds that have been inflicted.

the regret feels like a bitter aftertaste of the sorrow you can no longer escape. the eyes of those around you, trembling with the weight of their own anguish, are bloodshot and haunting, mirroring the crimson that flows from your wrist. in that agonizing moment, the world feels irrevocably broken, and the fleeting desire to be alive seems like a distant, unreachable dream.

they burst from the bathroom, gojo's arms wrapped tightly around you as he dashes through the chaos. your lifeless feet and hands dangle, a heavy, haunting reminder of the blood seeping steadily onto the floor. each drop forms a macabre trail, like the relentless shadow of death that clings to you, a grim companion refusing to let go.

the crimson stains splatter and pool in your wake, an anguished testament to the finality that now seems inevitable— each red stain on the ground is a haunting reminder, a stark declaration. as they run, the blood's mournful descent weaves a sorrowful narrative of moments slipping away, each drop a poignant echo of what might have been, a stark and unyielding declaration that time has run out, that it is too late.

and suddenly, everything feels like a slow motion.

6 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

the doctor spoke with a grave tone, his words laced with concern. “it appears,” he began, looking at gojo who's just sitting there with his eyes focusing on the floor, meanwhile geto standing beside him. “that she intentionally tried to overdose. we've had to act swiftly to pump the substances from her body, working to counteract the severe effects of her actions.”

geto's hand gently gripping on gojo's shoulder as they listen. his expression was one of solemn seriousness, reflecting the urgency and gravity of the situation. “we've done everything we can to stabilize her, but it's crucial that you two understand the seriousness of what she has done. this was a life-threatening situation, and we're only beginning to address the underlying issues that led to this crisis.”

the doctor continued, his voice carrying a mix of relief and concern. “fortunately, the cut on her wrist wasn't too deep,” he said, his eyes scanning the notes before them. “it seems that the severity of the injury was somewhat mitigated by her weakened state from the drugs. if she had been stronger, the outcome might have been different.”

his tone softened, acknowledging the fragile balance between the danger of the overdose and the mitigating effects of your physical condition. “we've managed to address the immediate threats, but it's crucial to understand that this is a serious wake-up call. we need to work on her recovery and the emotional struggles that led to this moment.”

if she had been stronger, the outcome might have been different,’ the words echoed repeatedly, hauntingly through the air, like a broken record stuck on a painful refrain. once, twice, three times, they reverberated through their minds, each repetition a stark reminder of how close they came to losing you, how dangerously close the edge of despair was.

even the notion of ‘almost’ carried a weight too immense to bear, a heavy presence that pressed down on their hearts. the silence that followed was thick with unspoken guilt and anguish; none of them could find the words to bridge the chasm of their shared grief. they avoided each other's gaze, unable to escape the silent blame that hung heavy between them, a suffocating testament to their collective sense of failure.

gojo stared at his hands through the thin veil of his blindfold, his fingers trembling as they traced the dried blood staining his pale skin. the sight of it was a brutal reminder of you. with a strained effort, he clenched his hands tightly, hoping to meld the dried blood with his own, as if to erase the haunting evidence of what had transpired— his last hope trying to be with you.

each breath felt like a desperate gasp, a small gap forming between his lips as he struggled to draw in air. the sensation of suffocation gripped him, a relentless pressure squeezing his chest, making each inhale a battle. despite his efforts, the air seemed insufficient, leaving him feeling as though he were on the precipice of life, teetering on the brink of an abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.

geto felt an overwhelming tide of guilt and anguish, a heavy weight pressing down on his heart. the scene that unfolded before him replayed in his mind like a relentless, agonizing loop, hunting him down like he is some kind of a fucking prey. he was haunted by the sight of your suffering, the image of your blood-streaked hands and the anguished cries that pierced the air. each moment of his own reflection, seeing the remnants of your blood on his skin and his white shirt, deepened his torment.

the sense of responsibility gnawed at him, a constant reminder of how close he came to losing you. he felt suffocated by a profound sorrow and helplessness, as if the very air around him was too thick, leaving him gasping for breath— like the death itself pointing its ugly fucking finger to his face and laugh at him, at them.

what a fucking pathetic man’ the death must be said.

the weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, and the silence between him and his companions only amplified his inner turmoil. the unspoken blame and the aching realization that he couldn't undo what had happened created a chasm of despair within him, making each moment feel like an eternity of unbearable remorse.

both of them are buried in profound sea of grief, guilt, shame because a thousand moments with you that they take for granted— shame, for thinking, assume that there would be a thousand more. is it too selfish to be here?’ they thought.

that curse must be laughing at them, the higher-ups, everyone— pointing their finger from all directions. look at them, ’ they thought, those two who called themselves the strongest can even save a single soul,’ again they must be laughing, let alone a soul who is to be called the love of their life.

but nobody knows, none, not even a single soul that, oh, how your presence evokes such selflessness in them— even amid their silent, tormented reflections. they are consumed by an incessant questioning of the selfishness of their own sorrow, wondering if it is wrong to cling to their grief while you teeter on the precipice of loss.

the haunting thought persists, a cruel reminder of time's fragile nature and the profound depth of their remorse. in their heartache, they are acutely aware of the contrast between their own suffering and the delicate balance of your existence, each moment of their anguish a poignant testament to the sorrow they feel for having taken so much for granted.

is it okay to feel sad? ’ they thought.

even the very sensation of sadness and grief feels like an indulgence they do not deserve. i can't even protect her, what rights do i fucking deserve to be sad?’ they thought. to them, these emotions seem an opulent luxury, an extravagant gift they are not entitled to. in their hearts, the depth of their sorrow feels almost excessive, a poignant reminder of how their suffering pales in comparison to the magnitude of the almost loss they face.

each wave of grief feels like a grand, unwelcome opulence, an unjust reward for the pain they have caused and the moments they have squandered. the luxury of their sadness seems a cruel irony, a stark contrast to the profound emptiness of the reality they must now confront.

people passing by in front of them, throwing them a glance or two. seeing their red eyes and tears-stain cheeks, blood in their hands, in shirts, in pants, in their soul, laid bare. everyone wants to give them both a pat on the back, telling them that they are good at handling grief; howling, crying, and blaming each other. that's the proper way to handle grief.

18 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

your hands are warm, a stark contrast to the pallor of your pink lips, which have lost their vibrant hue, your eyes open still so retain their gentle softness, a quiet testament to the grace you still hold.

as you lie upon the hospital bed, draped in the drab, floral-patterned gown that clings to you, it feels woefully inadequate. the gown, mundane and worn, seems too insipid and shabby to encompass your beauty, too faded and forlorn.

“i'm sorry. . .” you mumble.

you can’t bring yourself to look at them as they sit beside your bed, their eyes red and swollen from sleepless nights, their uniforms crumpled and disheveled, their hair falling in untamed disarray. their faces have lost their vibrant hue, a stark contrast to their usual vitality.

gojo satoru’s once-brilliant blue eyes, which used to shimmer with an unyielding light, now seem dull and lifeless, even when the golden sunlight spills over them. the sunlight, which once might have enhanced the beauty of his gaze with its warm orange tones, now only serves to highlight the emptiness that has replaced his once-sparkling eyes— it's dull, it's dull, it is fucking dull.

geto suguru's strikingly handsome face is graced with a smile, tender and achingly gentle, as though he is pouring all his effort into offering you a sliver of solace. his lips tremble with a subtle quiver, betraying the deep sadness that lingers beneath his calm exterior. his once-vibrant purple irises have dimmed, their former brilliance faded to a shadow of their former selves.

you fear that they might darken further, losing their hue altogether, slipping into a void of despair where even color seems to vanish. the sight of his sorrowful eyes, so devoid of their usual spark, reflects a profound sadness that pierces the heart, a silent testament to the emotional toll of the moment.

oh, what i have done. . .’ you thought.

“don't, please don't,” gojo pleads, his voice trembling as he clasps your unharmed hand with a desperate grip. his blindfold has been removed, revealing eyes that are filled with raw, unfiltered emotion as he gazes at you. beside him, geto's hand rests gently at the back of your head, his touch tender and soothing. he caresses your hair with a featherlight motion, his thumb brushing softly over your scalp.

“we are so sorry for taking you for granted,” he murmurs, the words heavy with regret and sorrow. “we are sorry for offering you only a lukewarm love, when you deserved a love that was fierce and all-consuming, a love that burned brightly and fiercely. i'm sorry,” his voice wavers, each word an echo of their deep remorse, as they both grapple with the weight of their unspoken apologies and the profound realization of what they failed to give you.

they do not seek to question why your soul bleeds, nor do they dare to unravel the dark tapestry of your pain. the blood, flowing with a steady, silent, and disturbingly deliberate pace, engulfs you in its relentless embrace. it seeps into every corner of your being, a somber tide that threatens to consume you entirely.

they find themselves unable to confront this harrowing reality, their hearts too burdened to bear the weight of such a painful inquiry. the sight of your suffering leaves them paralyzed, unable to utter the questions that linger in their minds, as they grapple with the profound helplessness of watching you slowly succumb to the encroaching shadows.

“i love you, baby,” gojo whispers, “i'm sorry that you're in so much pain so to think death is the only salvation,” he stopped for a second, cocooning your hand with his large one before resting his cheek against. “i'm sorry i didn't notice your rage for the world and too busy loving you. does my love scare you, love? that's why you decided to leave, hm?” his voice shaking, lips quivering.

“if you are angry, stab me a little so you can feel better, make it hurt, i don't care. a little suffering would be worth it if it's by your hands, by your pretty little hands,” he murmured against your skin, his breath a warm whisper that sent shivers across your body. each word was a soft plea, wrapped in a tone that trembled with both desperation and tenderness.

his trembling lips pressed gently against your hand, each kissing a fleeting starburst of warmth against your cool skin. him— no they, stood ready to endure your pain, inviting you to inflict upon them the hurt you felt.

they stand poised to let you sink your teeth into them, to delve into their very flesh. to let you open them up, laid bare and vulnerable, just to offer you a chance to heal. just so they can love you a little too much, starving even— like a flesh begging to be knitting together over a wound. ruin me, ruin us, and we will let you.

“i love you, i love you, i love you,” he gave you stars in each between. they fucking love you like a rotten dog. “believe me when i said this. . . there are so many kisses to have, soul and bone for you to crash and swear that how stars are born, so please. . ., believe me, you have to believe me,” he cries, holding your hands, begging for you to love him— love him enough to stay, “we love you.”

he finally said we’ geto thought.

at first glance, people might assume that geto suguru’s love for you surpasses that of gojo satoru, that his love is somehow greater. yet, the truth remains that it has always been gojo satoru who harbors the most profound and boundless love for you from the very beginning. his love is vast, immense, and utterly astonishing, stretching beyond the horizons of understanding.

gojo’s devotion is a vast expanse, a love so deep and wide that it seems to defy the very limits of emotion. even geto suguru, who himself is capable of immense love, finds himself awestruck and somewhat intimidated by the sheer magnitude of gojo’s feelings. no one can truly grasp the depth of gojo’s love—not even gojo himself—such is the overwhelming, almost incomprehensible nature of his heart’s boundless devotion to you.

and sometimes it scares the shit out of geto.

but maybe, just maybe, they have a little too much love for you more than for each other, even more than for themselves— as if you make a space in their ribs, and call it home country.

30 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

geto stirred from a restless sleep, his head resting gently against your hospital bed, nestled close to your side. as he slowly opened his eyes, he was met with the soft, gentle sight of you gazing at him, a faint, tender smile gracing your lips. the serene moment, bathed in the quiet of the hospital room, brought a flicker of warmth to his weary heart, a small but profound comfort amid the lingering shadows of their shared sorrow.

“hey sunshine,” geto whispered in a hoarse croak, reaching a hand to brush your hair away from your face, “how long have you been awake?”

“long enough to notice the dark circles under your eyes and the tear stains on your cheeks,” you replied softly, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek, your thumb tenderly caressing the worn skin. geto hummed, his hand capturing yours and guiding your palm to his lips, where he planted a gentle kiss.

the touch of your skin was like a salve, soothing the ache in his weary soul. he chuckled weakly. his eyes were tired and his skin pale, but your touch made him feel alive. “you’re too observant for your own good,” he teased, his lips curving into a weary smile.

geto shifted in his chair, wincing slightly as his body protested the movement. he settled into a more comfortable position, still holding your hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your knuckles.

he studied your face, taking in every detail, from the delicate flutter of your eyelashes to the subtle flush in your cheeks. the sight of you, even in this vulnerable state, filled his heart with a mixture of tenderness and protectiveness.

“how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, his gaze fixed on your face. he knew it was a question he had asked before, but he couldn’t help himself. he needed to hear you speak, hear your voice, just to reassure himself that you were still with him.

“like shit,” you answer.

your hand is still gently cupping his cheek, thumb running low across his skin in a loving manner. at your blunt response, geto's lip curled into a soft smile. even in your weakened state, you still had a defiant spark.

he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the sensation. “i thought we agreed no profanity,” he teased, his voice laced with affectionate humor, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. he turned his head slightly, his lips brushing against the palm of your hand in a tender kiss.

“you’ve always been a bad influence on me,” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and ticklish. he chuckled softly, his eyes softening as he studied your face.

he took a moment to compose his words, his expression growing serious. “there was a moment,” he began, his voice a hoarse whisper, “a moment when i thought i lost you.”

your smile faltered, and your eyes softened with concern as you listened to the gravity in his voice. you reached up to gently touch his cheek again, your thumb brushing away the remnants of his sadness.

“i’m here now,” you whispered, your voice steady but filled with warmth. “you haven’t lost me.” you looked deeply into his eyes, trying to convey with your gaze the depth of your presence and the promise of your unwavering support. “and i’m not going anywhere,” you added softly, hoping to soothe the lingering fear in his heart.

his hand covers yours, holding it against his cheek as he closes his eyes, relishing in your soothing touch. for a moment, he just allows himself to bask in your presence, letting the warmth and comfort wash over him.

“i was afraid i wouldn’t get to hear you say that,” he murmured, his voice growing thicker with emotion. he opened his eyes, the raw vulnerability in his gaze bared to you, his heart laid bare.

your heart ached at the sight of his vulnerability. you gently squeezed his hand, your voice trembling with sincerity as you spoke. “i’m so sorry,” you said softly, your eyes filled with compassion.

geto’s thumb traced gentle, small circles on the back of your hand. “you have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “it was my responsibility to keep you safe, and i failed.”

the guilt and regret in his voice were palpable, the weight of his self-imposed responsibility clear. he lowered his gaze, wrestling with emotions that were etched deeply into every line of his weary face.

he lifted your hand from his cheek, bringing it to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss against your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. “i just need you to know how much you mean to me,” he added, his voice cracking slightly. his grip on your hand tightened, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

geto’s lips continued to brush against your knuckles as he spoke, soft and gentle. his eyes held yours captive, the depth of his affection bared for you to see.

“you are my everything,” he confessed, his voice hoarse with the weight of his honesty. “the thought of losing you, of living in a world where you don’t exist…” he trailed off, a pained expression crossing his features. he was torn between the love that engulfed his heart and the fear that threatened to consume him.

geto drew in a shaky breath, composing himself as best he could. he lifted his gaze from your hand, meeting your eyes once again. his expression held a mixture of love and devotion, but also a hint of desperation.

“i need you to know that no matter what, i will do everything in my power to protect you,” he vowed, his voice steady despite the turbulent emotions raging within him. “not just because it’s my duty, but because i love you more than i thought it was possible to love someone.”

you met his gaze with a warm, reassuring smile, the depth of your gratitude shining through. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice imbued with genuine appreciation. your smile was a reflection of the profound comfort and reassurance you felt, a silent promise to stand together through whatever lay ahead.

geto’s eyes softened at your smile, a flicker of relief passing over his weary face. he squeezed your hand gently, his touch both appreciative and protective.

he studied your face for a moment, his gaze lingering on each contour, each freckle and line, as if to further commit them to memory. “don’t scare me like that again,” he murmured, mostly in jest, but with an underlying current of seriousness.

gojo entered the room, his expression a mix of relief and lingering concern as he carried a bag of your belongings. upon seeing the tender moment between you and geto, his eyes softened, though they carried a hint of the exhaustion and worry that had shadowed him. he set the bag down and approached, took a sit at the edge on the other side of your bed, his voice catching slightly as he spoke.

“don’t scare me like that again too,” he said, his tone gentle but tinged with the weight of his emotions. his gaze met yours with a blend of earnestness and relief. “i know suguru’s been holding on tight, but i’ve been right here, too. seeing you like this... it’s been hard on all of us. please, don't leave us.” his words were a heartfelt plea, an echo of the concern and love he carried for you, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the strength of his devotion.

geto’s grip on your hand tightened momentarily at the sound of gojo’s voice, his eyes darting towards his best friend. he could hear the exhaustion and worry that laced gojo’s words and knew all-too-well the weight of the responsibility they shared.

he turned his gaze back to you, his expression a mix of worry and relief. his thumb resumed its gentle, soothing circles on the back of your hand. “yeah,” he said in agreement, his voice gruff with emotion. “please, don’t scare us like that again.”

gojo’s presence brought with it a sense of familiarity, a comfort that was both grounding and reassuring. he reached out and placed a gentle hand on your arm, his touch a silent expression of his affection and concern.

he studied your face, his eyes tracing every contour, every line, as if to commit the sight to memory. “how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice softer now, though still tinged with worry. “i wanna say like shit but suguru said no profanity,” you puff a little chuckle.

geto gives a little scoff at your comment, his expression laced with a mixture of annoyance and affection. he rolls his eyes playfully and mutters, “you’re such a bad influence.”

gojo’s lips curled into a small smirk before he turned his gaze back to you, the lines around his eyes creasing with a mix of amusement and relief. “can’t have you talking like that,” he teased, his words light but carrying a hint of genuine concern.

gojo studying your face carefully before speaking ever so softly, “well, apart from the obviously crappy mood geto’s been in, you look good. your color is better.” he noticed a faint crimson crushed on your cheeks, a little pink on your lips.

he reached his hand out to smooth a strand of hair away from your forehead, his touch light and tender. his gaze wandered from your face to where geto still held your hand, his eyes reflecting a subtle hint of appreciation.

geto watched gojo's gentle touch, his grip on your hand unconsciously tightening a little bit in response. his expression was a mixture of protectiveness and vulnerability, his eyes betraying the fear and worry that still tugged at his heart.

he took the moment to observe the soft interplay of emotions between you and gojo, the easy familiarity and the deep bond that existed between you all. he could sense the weight of gojo's concern as he studied your face, the care and attention in his touch.

gojo's voice was soft as he continued, his gaze still fixed on your face. “so, how are you feeling, for real?” he asked, his tone a gentle echo of geto's earlier question. “any pain? any discomfort?”

geto looked at you, his eyes silently pleading for you to be honest. he was hanging off your every word, each response a small insight into your well-being.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their concern pressing down on you. meeting gojo’s gentle gaze and then turning to geto’s silent plea, you spoke with a mixture of remorse and honesty. “i’m sorry,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “i’m sorry for how i handled things. i know i should have talked to you both, but i didn’t—i tried to take matters into my own hands without thinking it through first.”

your eyes reflected a deep sense of shame and regret as you continued. “i actually feel like absolute shit right now, and i’m ashamed of myself for thinking i could find a quick solution without considering the impact it would have on you both.” you looked at them, hoping your words conveyed the depth of your remorse and the sincerity of your apology, wanting them to understand that your actions were not a reflection of your feelings for them, but rather a moment of misguided desperation.

gojo's expression softened with understanding, his eyes filled with compassion. he knew the weight of your words, the regret and shame that clung to them. he reached his hand back to your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring.

geto's gaze was a mix of surprise and relief as he processed your apology. his hand around yours tightened slightly, his thumb tracing reassuring circles on your skin. “it's okay,�� he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “we all have moments of weakness. what matters is that you're here, safe and alive.”

you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you at their responses, their understanding and compassion a balm to your wounded spirit. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “thank you for not being angry with me and for not questioning me right away. i know i made a terrible mistake, and i’m grateful you’re here, supporting me instead of condemning me.”

geto's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes filled with a complex mixture of emotions— relief, love, and a hint of lingering fear. he shook his head gently, a reassuring smile on his lips.

gojo chuckled softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and playfulness. “we can save the anger and lecturing for when you’re not looking so terrible,” he joked, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “and trust me, baby, i had a lot of choice colorful words for you when the right time comes,” he lean in to kiss your forehead, “but right now, we just trying to be here for you.”

geto nodded in agreement, his grip on your hand still tight. he couldn’t help but roll his eyes a bit at gojo's playfulness, but there was a hint of fondness beneath the feigned annoyance.

he leaned in, reaching out with his other hand to gently brush a strand of hair off your forehead. “you are a stubborn, reckless, and stubborn pain in the ass,” he scolded lightly, his tone a soft but affectionate mix.

gojo chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with humor. he settled himself closer, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “he's right, you know,” he chimed in, his smile wide. “you're very good at pushing our buttons and getting under our skin.”

geto's lips curled into a small smile, his expression a mixture of feigned anger and affection. “and you're even better at making us worry,” he added, his tone light but underlined with the gravity of their concern. “but we care about you more than anything,” he added, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “so you better not do something like that again, you hear me?” his voice held a hint of authority, but mostly it was filled with love and concern.

geto's smile grew a bit wider, his eyes crinkling endearingly at the corners. “yeah,” he said, his voice firm. “you better listen. we don’t need anymore of these near-death experiences from you.”

gojo chimed in enthusiastically, leaning in a bit closer. “yeah, cause let me tell you, i can’t handle any more gray hairs than i already have.”

geto's grip on your hand tightened again, his expression a mix of sternness and vulnerability. he looked at you intently, his gaze locking with yours. “he's right,” he echoed, his voice firm but filled with warmth and care. “no more reckless decisions. no more putting yourself in danger. you hear us, my love?”

gojo nodded in agreement, his expression serious but eyes softened with concern. he added, “yeah, we can't keep having our hearts in our throats like this. it's not good for our health, you know.” geto's hand caressed your arm gently, a silent plea for your understanding. “we just want you safe and sound. that’s all we ask.”

a hint of vulnerability flashed across geto's face, his expression betraying the weight of his words. he locked eyes with you, his gaze filled with a mixture of pleading and sincerity.

“we just want to know that you're safe,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “that you're not recklessly endangering yourself anymore.”

gojo leaned in closer, his hand resting on your arm lightly. “we can't bear the thought of something happening to you again,” he chimed in, his tone carrying an undercurrent of worry.

they continued to exchange tender words and earnest pleas, their voices overlapping in a chorus of concern and affection. each spoke fervently about their love and the lengths they would go to ensure your safety and happiness. their words, though filled with their own fears and frustrations, were underscored by a deep, unwavering care for you.

as you watched them, a soft smile touched your lips. their earnest devotion, their refusal to let you face this alone, filled you with a profound sense of comfort and gratitude. you could see their love in every gesture and hear it in every word, and it warmed your heart. despite the gravity of the situation, their caring presence made you feel cherished and supported, giving you strength even in the midst of your own turmoil.

after a few moments of their heartfelt declarations, the room fell into a short silence, the weight of their words lingering in the air.

gojo ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of nervous energy. “and just so you know, suguru here basically took a week off work to sit by your bedside like a damn watchdog, he even almost made the rainbow dragon eat gakuganji because that fucker won't let him leave.” geto, caught off guard by the sudden revelation, flushed faintly and shot a glare at gojo.

geto, taken aback, shot a sharp look at gojo before retort, “you clearly about to hollow purple the higher-ups and the entire school because they won't let you stay here with her.” gojo's expression darkened for a moment, “you know i would do it in a heartbeat, if i could.” geto's grip on your hand tightened, his gaze still fixed on gojo. “i know you would. and i'd be right there with you.”

gojo and geto turned their attention back to you when they heard your soft chuckling, their expressions a mix of relief and amusement at hearing you laugh.

gojo chuckled as well, “you find that funny, huh?” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. geto rolled his eyes a bit, but his own smile betrayed his true feelings. he couldn't stay serious when you laughed. “just the thought of us going rogue and taking down the entire school system for you is amusing, i guess,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm.

you hummed in satisfaction, “they are shit anyway.” a gentle smile lingering on your pale lips.

gojo chuckled warmly, his eyes sparkling at your comment. “ah, and there’s that signature wit of yours coming back.”

geto, still feigning annoyance but struggling to hide a grin, shook his head slightly. “still as blunt and unfiltered as ever,” he said, his eyes soft.

you glances at both of them, the comforting silence lingering between you, and with a tender smile, you mouthed softly, “i love you.” your cheeks flushed a delicate crimson beneath your pale complexion as you kissed their cheek.

gojo and geto exchanged a brief glance at your sweet words and soft kisses, their hearts swelling with warmth and love. gojo's hand reached out to stroke your hair, his touch gentle and loving. “we love you too,” he said softly.

geto's smile widened as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “always,” he breathed, his voice filled with tenderness.

the thought of you coming back to them is warm.

TAGLIST :

@junni-berry @fortunatelyfurrygiver @soraya-daydreams @diorzs @dancing--devils @iloveboysinred @bounie1 @nina3871 @ohnotheusernameisbroken

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Cupid Walks Right.

Spencer Reid x BAU!reader

Summary: You've been hiding your attraction to your coworker for a long time, until a few pictures of him kissing a celebrity in a pool unleash emotions you can't control.

Words: 1,6k.

TW: mentions of crime and arms (normal warning in the series). spoilers for s1 e18 ("somebody's watching"). two idiots in love. lots of jealousy. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: The reader is simply me every time I watch that episode but with a lot more drama to make it interesting.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

One bullet after another hit the paper meters away from you, with each shot more accurate than the previous one. You had lost count of how many cartridges you had already spent because your mind was full of thoughts that only the sound of the shots echoing in the shooting room managed to silence and give you back a little control of the situation.

Memories of one of the last cases still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't understand why. It hadn't even been something relevant enough to stick in your mind that much, it was just a crazy stalker obsessed with a celebrity and more of the same old same old in terms of creating a profile. It was nothing you hadn't seen before, and it had ended well, with a happy ending that included Spencer kissing the victim he was supposed to be protecting.

That was the crux of the issue, the root of your problem.

You saw some photos that captured the moment in vivid detail and wanted to run out and throw up in the nearest trash can. You held back to avoid answering embarrassing questions, blaming your bad feelings on the last thing you ate and insisting that you were just satisfying your curiosity. But as they say, curiosity always kills the cat.

Maybe it was because it was unprofessional and unnecessary, maybe you were in a bad mood and needed to relax, maybe you were upset that the guy with the germ problem had shared saliva with a stranger, maybe you didn't like Lila Archer because of her performances, or maybe you just wanted to be in her shoes and have him kiss you like that. And for heaven's sake, maybe you've had a few inappropriate dreams about it lately.

You were just about to fire again to get the thoughts out of your mind when someone tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around, ready to defend yourself with the gun in your hand.

“Wait, wait, it's me. I'm sorry.” Spencer raised his arms in a sign of peace and took a few steps back. “Just me.”

“What are you doing here? You scared me.” You lowered the gun and placed it on the table, trying to sound less abrupt. “I thought everyone had gone home.”

He approached you again, checking the open shells and the pile of bullets on the ground. He was quite surprised to see how many times you had hit the target with perfect shots, and how you still seemed intent on continuing, even though it was almost two in the morning. It wasn't practice, because you didn't need it, it was something else, and you seemed quite angry about it.

“I spent the hour going through some papers and saw the light on in here. I thought I'd come and have a look.” He explained, trying to follow your gaze, which seemed to elude his. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, perfect.”

You started gathering your things and cleaning up the space you'd been using, planning to leave as soon as possible because of his presence. It had been weeks since you'd been alone with him because you'd managed to avoid seeing him as best you could. You'd even managed to convince Hotch that it was time for him to pair you up with someone else during the cases to experiment. You didn't even know why he'd listened to you, but it had been a great relief.

“You're leaving already?” Spencer asked, and you just nodded. “Can I take you home?”

Usually he drove you home, because your car was still at the mechanic and you refused to buy a new one. You always used the minutes you spent together to talk about something other than cases, they were moments of relaxation that you both appreciated. The big difference was that now you couldn't afford that luxury without feeling strange.

“Don't worry, I'll call a taxi.” You grabbed your jacket from a nearby locker. “I'm fine.” You added, with the intention of heading for the door until he stopped you by the wrist.

“Is everything okay...between us?” He asked as you looked up to meet his eyes. “Are you mad at me?”

“I'm sorry, what?” You said, feigning confusion. You always knew it was only a matter of time before he figured something was off with you. After all, he worked in profiling.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked again, in a lower voice, sounding a little more vulnerable than he'd intended. That instantly made you feel bad, you didn't want to hurt him with your confusion.

“No.”

He let out a sigh at your automatic response. His shoulders slumped a bit, and he felt a wave of relief for a few seconds. But then he looked into your eyes for a moment and hesitated, biting his lower lip.

“So...why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, sounding a little shy and with a hint of apprehension in his voice. “Or not looking at me at all.”

“I'm not doing anything.” You make excuses.

He got the chills when he heard your voice, which came across as cold and distant.

“You're giving me that look.”

You gave a little frown and folded your arms, as if to say you didn't agree.

“What look?"

“You look at me like I've done something wrong, like you're disappointed or angry...I think both. You barely look me in the eye, you walk away every time I want to talk to you, you don't sit near me on the jet or want to work with me anymore. And you've been like this for a week.” He paused for a second, remembering when your strange behavior started. “Ever since the L.A. case.”

The room was suddenly filled with silence and a palpable tension. You had been foolish to think Spencer wouldn't notice your remoteness, given his perceptive nature. But you didn't have a choice. You didn't want to appear jealous when you didn't even have feelings for him, you were just ovulating or something like that.

“Is it because...because of Lila? I heard Morgan say some things, and you haven't treated me the same since.” His wavering voice sounded more and more confident, as if he still had to convince himself of his point of view. “I want to know what you think, please.”

You could only curse Derek for exposing you like that. He was the only one who knew about your strange attraction to Reid because he had caught you looking at him several times and you had confessed it to him once in a bar after several drinks and a ridiculous game of cross questions. Since that night, the jokes and suggestions about making out with Spencer under a tree had begun.

But a beautiful actress did it before you, in her pool, with lots of pictures to prove it.

“I'm not one to tell you what to do, but I think your actions were unprofessional and most of all risky.” You spoke after a few seconds, clearing your throat and trying to contain the burning you felt. “It could have ended badly.”

Come on, you would have done the same thing. You often thought about what it would be like to kiss him in the middle of an investigation, especially when he kept giving important details. So you were a little hypocritical.

“I'm only saying that because I care about you.” You added, noticing how confused he looked.

“I know, I care about you too.” He replied calmly, taking a step toward you to touch your arm. “This has been bothering you?”

You froze at his warm touch and the implications you thought he was making about you, nodding as if hypnotized. Had he realized that you had been jealous all along? That you wanted to go back so he could kiss you and not her? That you wanted him to put his hands on your cheeks and kiss you deeply until you were breathless?

“I think I understand, but don't worry about me. I won't do anything dangerous anymore.”

Oh, he hadn't noticed.

Spencer really thought that you were just concerned about his safety because he was your friend and your partner on cases, that you were just frustrated that you weren't there to back him up in case things went wrong. It didn't even occur to him that it was something much deeper and more heated than that.

“So, all good?” He gave you a small smile that made your heart beat a little faster.

“Sure.” You lied, with a strange lump in your throat at the guarded words. “I just didn't know you liked blondes.” You added in a fake teasing tone.

Despite your clearly suspicious tone, Spencer laughed sheepishly. “Actually, I like your hair color.”

A strange bubbling sensation reached your stomach and made you smile.

“Mine?” You asked, lowering your gaze to the floor.

“Yes, it's like it's perfect for you.” He carefully brushed your hair out of your face and tucked it behind your ear, causing the feeling in your stomach to identify itself as butterflies fluttering nonstop.

“You're telling me because I have a gun?” You tried to change the subject with a nervous laugh. “I'm not a celebrity, after all.”

“You don't have to be one to be as pretty as you are. But you could be if you wanted to, and...” He started to talk about statistics and a bunch of data you didn't even know, but strangely enough you didn't listen to him this time because you were stuck on the first sentence.

Spencer really thought you were pretty.

It was only then that you realized something had changed. The only successful shot had been Cupid's arrow to your heart.

Because, damn it, you were totally in love with that man.

[dumbass-sappho-stan]

hit first and hit hard || challengers

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ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ: ᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴏɴᴀʟᴅꜱᴏɴ, ᴘᴀᴛʀɪᴄᴋ ᴢᴡᴇɪɢ, ᴛᴀꜱʜɪ ᴅᴜɴᴄᴀɴ

— fem! reader

summary: the tennis girl weaves her way through simple lover's quarrels and one manipulative blonde boy.

𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦(?), 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴/𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 sleepy 𝘛𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘋𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘯

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ʜɪ! ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏ, ꜱᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ, ʏ'ᴀʟʟ ᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏ, ꜱᴏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ! ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴅᴇᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜰᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏ'ᴀʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ.

​🇼​​🇴​​🇷​​🇩​ ​🇨​​🇴​​🇺​​🇳​​🇹​: 7.7k

Read Part One here!

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙏𝙬𝙤: 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧

𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙁𝙊𝙍𝘿, 𝘾𝘼𝙇𝙄𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙉𝙄𝘼, 2007

𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺

The days following your fight with Art were rife with silence and solitude. Sequestered alone in your dorm, you lay there either working on your piling homework or listening to 'emo'-esque music to help funnel your emotions, but that still didn't help.

As much as you hate to admit it the one thing that did was tennis. Wanting to avoid Art and even Tashi, you went as early as possible. Every morning since the fight for at least a solid week, you got up at 4:30 AM, dressed, jumped the court fence to practice for about 5 hours, and exited just as the other 'early' players showed up.

It invigorated you to be energized early in the day and you sometimes smashed the ball or even your racquet if you felt like it. Being alone wasn't a new circumstance for you but it was certainly novel as of late. You were so used to Art's presence on the court and in your life.

Dinners were spent together, and silly chats you two had were the norm for at least a year. Not to mention the bizarre push and pull with the romantic tension between you two. Even before Stanford, you'd labored to get his phone number, after begging Tashi for a few days and speaking to him on the phone constantly.

Though, the blonde seemed just as ardent as you in your aversion to one another. He had tried calling you multiple times and texting but it was fruitless. You'd picked up the phone once to only put it back down.

 ⋆★⋆

"I'm so sorry," Art sobbed, he sounded as if someone had stabbed him, "I'm so, so sorry." You said nothing and stayed neutral. You, unfortunately, picked up the phone after Donaldson had called it 23 times in the past 2 days, and decided the 24th would be the last. It was time to be the bigger person and end the fight between you two.

"Me too, Art." Muttering drily you heard his hiccups stop, and a loud sigh of relief. You could almost feel the weight being lifted off of his shoulders.

He whispered your name softly, "I never meant to hurt you. I just... I wanted to say what I thought you wanted."

A sharp pain shot through your chest as those lethal words left his lips and pure white-hot vexation replaced whatever emotion had been there previously. It was silent between the two of you, which confused the boy.

Art called your name but was interrupted, "You know what I want Art Donaldson?" You roared, "For your fucking castration to be slow and painful!"

 ⋆★⋆

The poor cutesy, pink Motorola Razr was no longer a phone after the conversation and lay shattered on your floor for days before you finally felt bad and threw it out. Your new one, a hue of bright cherry red, felt much more fitting for this new lifestyle.

Tashi you didn't actually avoid, more like you didn't tell her what was wrong. If beating around the bush was a professional sport you would've left tennis ages ago. Every time you and Tashi would be talking, in your small instants outside of your room or the court that week, Art would approach and you'd immediately give these automated lines;

"Oh shit, Tashi, sorry I got an essay to write!"

"Oops! I forgot I had a thing I have to get to so.."

"It's what time? I gotta go walk my fish!"

Ausispously, these went unnoticed by Tashi because in every single one of the instances you slipped away back to your dorm and to your desolation, without as much as a blink from your friend. If you weren't so content in your loneliness you probably would have been much more uncertain or at least unhappy about her sudden disconnect from you, but chalked it up to Patrick being in town for a longer period.

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𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞

𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗖𝗞

The loud pounds landed dully against your door and woke you up immediately. Your body sat up and the sun's harsh blare into your tiny room flashed in your face, nearly blinding you upon waking up. You frantically glanced around your dorm room, seeing if it was something inside rather than external.

But no, all in your room were your postered walls full of music artists, art pieces themselves, silly photos of you and your friends from home (though most of those photos were overshadowed by Tashi's), and other miscellaneous items that sat around. In the small moment of silence between pounds, you began to slightly enjoy the pleasing sight of how pretty your room looked in the California dawning sun.

However, you were quickly slapped back into reality because the pounding had not ceased; seemingly getting louder if it was imaginable. What the fuck... That specific thought rattled through your foggy brain and your face contorted to deep confusion—even fear. Yet, you finally got the motivation to gradually inch toward the door, not even knowing who the fuck could be on the other side. The door rattled and shook explosively the closer you got until a hand to the handle.

The metal felt cool and smooth under your grasp. Soon flinching at the pounding and slightly wondered how your neighbors didn't get pissed off yet. But, you focused and opened the door.

Then there he was, Patrick Zweig, in all his glory posed in a mid-pound gesture at your dorm room door, staring straight at you.

"Hi,"

"Hey..."

Patrick soon pushed his way past you, walking into your dorm unphased. "Okay, just come right in.." You muttered, shutting the door behind you before turning to him. He stood in the middle of your room, inspecting it like he's the fucking DA. Nevertheless, he looked quite pretty as he was dressed in a simple white t-shirt with some dorky slogan and jorts—fit for California weather.

The silence was palpable between you two, Patrick seemed unbothered, almost jovial, and the signature devilish glint in his eyes. You, in contrast, glared at him like he was the spawn of Satan.

"Don't you look joyful?" Patrick chuckled, a playful smile soon following. Your scowl didn't budge but despite that, he came toward you with arms open wide, and enclosed you in a hug, "I'm certainly happy to see you." His words were muffled in the tangled mess that was your hair at this early of an hour. You hugged back briefly, then pressed him off.

"Pounding at my door at..." You glanced at the digital clock, "Jesus Christ, 7:15 in the morning?!" A small chuckle left Patrick again at his ability to get a rise out of you. You crossed your arms angrily and pinched the bridge of your nose with a sigh.

"Well, I'm eager to see one of my two special girls," He quipped, leaning back on your window sill with a surprising suaveness. That had become his nickname for you and Tashi over the past months. His 'special' girls were his way of flirting with you and getting on your nerves all at the same time. Both he and your best friend found it hilarious.

"Zweig, you have a pretty fucking odd way of showing 'enthusiasm'," A scoff left your lips just as you sauntered to the bathroom that was tangent to your room. The brunette soon followed and leaned on the doorway as you started your routine.

"I adore you, pookie!" A shutter audibly left you when he drawled out the terribly cheesy nickname. That one was the worst.

"Bleugh," You gagged, "Jesus Christ, Patrick why can't you be normal?" Somehow you frowned even deeper if that was even possible.

The boy laughed in reply, "Because who would be around to force you to have some fun?" Patrick looked at you with those eyes, his pretty forestry eyes that have broken hearts all across the country, they were meant for you. It made you want to stare back with your own, basking in it like a summer's day. And that smile, god— his smile was the sun itself. If Art was the ice, Patrick was the fire, the sun. The sun's light could always melt the winter's snow, you assumed he was with Tash for that similar reason. Opposites attract.

You started to feel yourself blush, your mind overthinking and repeating thoughts that all were about him, Patrick.

Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.

Hastily, you rushed to turn on the faucet and started to forcefully wash your face. Hopefully, it would wash away the shame that overtook the sudden rush of emotions for your best friend's boyfriend. Damnit, this is what happens when you don't get laid for a week... Scolding yourself internally, you washed your face and sighed to look back at him. As you expected, his eyes were still on you. But something had changed, the playfulness just wasn't there. It was something else, but you didn't have the time to place it before he looked away.

"So," Patrick spoke your name, "I haven't seen you for my entire time here, and..." He paused for effect, "I missed you."

You gasped dramatically and put a hand to your chest, "Me? Patrick Zweig misses me?" Teasing him with a smile, "What an honor! What's next, I get taken to the Dollar Tree?"

Laughter bounced off the small walls as the two of you were terribly unfunny and it was mutually known. It didn't stop you two from laughing at the stupidity of it. The laughter endured for a moment or two before it died down.

"But really," Patrick started to pull himself together, "I did miss you. Y'know how Art is these days, and Tashi only wants to talk about fucking tennis..." He stepped closer to you, close enough for his hand to slightly caress your free arm. "You're honestly my only friend right now..."

You laugh awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere from his own. Patrick was looking at you, you knew it, but if you looked now you wouldn't be responsible for what you would do after. Self-control was one of the better traits you'd taken from Tashi—you stepped away from his touch and smiled thinly.

"Oh come on Patrick," The shitty tile of your bathroom floor seemed more and more interesting as the seconds passed, "Tashi's just trying to help you." You knew what he was referring to as Tashi complained of Patrick's inability to listen to criticism.

Patrick scoffed at this and rolled his eyes, regardless didn't reply. He dropped the subject, realizing ages ago you'd always choose to defend Tashi over anyone else. He shifted back to his original plan.

"Okay, that's whatever, would you like to go out tonight then?" He asked, his original jovial tone returning, and suddenly like that, everything was okay. The bizarre tension was gone and you could meet his gaze with a knowing face.

"I'll think about it." That answer seemed good enough for Patrick, you witnessed a cheesy exclamation and a terrible fist pump to follow. You sighed at his absurdity but it finally got him out of your doorway as he sauntered back out to your room.

"Great! I'll see you at 8 tonight," He announced, walking toward the door and out the door before he could hear your faint, "Patrick I don't-"

It was suddenly silent in your dorm again. Which, you were grateful for as it meant now you had time to concentrate; you could possibly continue your new 15-step life plan of isolation and become the second-best tennis-female player of all time, Tashi would be the first. Or get black-out drunk tonight and forget all about everything. Each option was very crucial.

A few hours of homework later, you had determined two things like you had done a week ago. One, yes you did need to get black-out drunk, Two, you had to make more male friends that weren't your best friend's boyfriend or said boyfriend's best friend.

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The club was hot and sweaty, it felt as if it'd swallow you whole with the number of people who crowded around you. Dancing, grinding, touching. You hadn't drunk enough alcohol for you to start to enjoy this feeling so off to the bar you went. Patrick followed in tandem, keeping a good trail on you as he was the "designated driver", though you were sure that both of you were going home in a taxi that night.

Patrick ordered a round of 10 shots of assorted types of strong-smelling alcohol and smiled at you, though the smile made you queasy. It exactly mirrored Tashi's smile when she forced you to do shit.

"My favorite girl, pick your poison," The brunette snickered, taking in the blank features that had taken over. "Unless you're a pussy."

"Oh, I'm a pussy?" You raised your eyebrow in defiance, "Please, Patrick, watch and learn." Mirroring his confident smirk, you picked up one random shot and took it back. Then another, and another, and another... Soon there were only 3 shots left for your friend and your tongue started to go numb. The boy laughed at your efforts and followed your lead by taking the rest of the shots.

Shortly, you were on the dance floor, the colored lights seemed so much more welcoming and the touch of strangers felt like a blaze. You drunkenly danced with Patrick, spinning and moving against each other, hands above the waist for both of you as it felt anything but personal. Occasionally you two would make eye contact for too long and would just erupt in giggles and he'd take you for another spin. Patrick knew how to have fun and pulled you along for the ride.

During some Nelly Furtado song, you'd finally gotten fatigued of the club after who knows how long of dancing, drinking, and other illicit activities that involved a certain plant. You tugged at Patrick's collar of his shirt and he stopped his movement.

"Patrick," You slurred, "I wanna go home.." He looked down at your figure and nodded his head. Patrick led you off of the dance floor and finally outside of the club. You clutched onto his shirt on the walk to the car, which honestly felt like miles. Patrick filled the air with little comments about the people who had filled the club and it made you giggle. Though, as drunk as you were anything could've made you laugh.

"Yes! The car!" The grip on his shirt tightened as you through one of your hands in the air in celebration, "I'm so fuckinggg... tired.." You dragged out your constants as you both made your way to the car. Ultimately, it was more like Patrick was walking and you slanted onto him, trotting along.

"Mhm," Patrick hummed, he'd kept one hand on your waist but you hadn't really noticed it. There were many things you didn't notice in your inebriated state.

Patrick, luckily, hadn't drunk as much as you and was sober enough to drive you home. You laid your head comfortably on the window as you observed the blackened city and yellowed road soar past you. It was serene, you and Patrick. It was the first time in the past week you felt a smidge above the bare minimum. Your head was hazy and everything felt so miniature; boxed in.

The ride home was rather reserved, with no one speaking other than you drunkenly giving him directions to your dorm. Eventually, after he had to call Tashi, he stopped in front of the building.

"We're here, Sleeping Beauty," Patrick murmured quietly, slightly nudging you with his hand. When you responded with a groan, he sighed and got out of the car. You perked up a bit and lazily followed his figure until he opened the door. The lack of movement signaled to Patrick that he would be the one to get you out of this car.

Patrick heaved you out of your seat, to your disdain, and he held you close as he closed the passenger door behind you. Your face was squashed in the curve of his neck. He smelt like really lovely cologne and sweat.

Looking up at him, Patrick met your gaze with his own and smiled, "Hi." You smiled back, "Hey.." His hand stayed trained on your waist and you felt that warmth. The fervor you felt that night in the hotel room. It pooled deep inside of you, and it made the stupid smile on your face grow even wider.

"What are you smiling at?" Patrick grinned at your behavior and his hand that had been unlocking the door moved up to cup your cheek. Both of you stood there under the cloak of the night sky, staring foolishly at one another. He softly said your name, "What are you smiling at, pretty girl?"

The tone of his voice was something you'd never be able to interpret in your lifetime. Forgotten among memories and the intoxication, you thought about what led to the position you were in years later, and next to that night in the hotel room, this seemed to be another flick to the dominos collapsing.

Patrick didn't wait for your response, his lips were already on yours. He felt needy in this kiss, it was long and passionate. Your eyes were clenched shut, the euphoria you felt from being so out of it momentarily leaving your body to replace it with stone-cold regret. The kiss was split when you finally pushed one hand to his chest.

"Patrick?" You muttered, "What the fuck?" Patrick's air sobered at your words. He looked at you, the mere panic very visible on his face. Had he fucked up?

"What?" The brunette laughed humorously, "Did I, erm..." He was searching through his lexicon to say anything that could save whatever the hell just happened.

The shame began to quickly devour you, a sickish feeling overtaking your senses. Whatever just happened mortified you to no extent. You staggered back from Patrick, finally meeting his frenzied eyes.

Your eyes started to gloss over and you cried. Tears fell freely down your face as you felt the humiliation slap you in the face. All of it. The humiliation of Art not even liking you, Tashi's carelessness this week, and then this. The culmination of the efforts from the four of you, kissing your best friend's boyfriend. Or rather he kissed you, but what was the true distinction?

"What the fuck Patrick!?" You roughly wiped the tears that continued to fall, "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Patrick said nothing, only stared, so similar to his best friend.

"Jesus... The both of you!" You barked, "The both of you two fucking astound me." Your words were sharp and cutting bore into Patrick, apparently, that's what got him.

"What," His voice trailed off as his demeanor only heightened in puzzlement, "What do you mean both?"

"You and your fuck-face friend, that's who!" Your words blended together, as unfortunately, you were still pretty shit-faced. "You and Art fucking around with my head..."

Patrick tensed, "Art's fucking with your head?"

"Yes!" You replied, throwing your hands out in anger, "He's still in love with your girlfriend, and decided to fuck me on the side!"

Patrick's eyebrows raised, he knew Art was trying to manipulate the situation by trying to break him and Tashi apart but he didn't know that you were weaved in here too.

"That's... fucked up." He attempted to comfort you, very awkwardly.

"Yes, it is fucked up Patrick, almost as fucked up as you kissing me." You shot back venomously, narrowing your eyes at him. Patrick went quiet for a beat. He looked at you, looked away, and back at you. He seemed to be deliberating something.

"There's nothing fucked up about it," He finally answered, "I wanted to."

An involuntary gasp slipped from your lips. Your face contorted. "What?"

"I want you."

It felt like a gallon of cold water splashed on you. You stumbled back even further from the boy, your expression no longer confused but mortified.

Thundering down the sidewalk, you callously ran to where you didn't know. You heard Patirck's calls after you but they didn't matter. It wasn't as if he ran after you. The haze from everything that had happened still lingered as you ran. The thoughts bombarded your mind aimlessly, wondering what Patrick meant or what he might say to Tashi.

Tashi...

You'd raced so far that you were there at her dorm, which was seated right next to the tennis courts. Vision hazy, you tumbled into the building. It felt dingy and humid and walking through the corridors you tripped about six times and fully fallen over 3; that didn't stop you though from your destination.

By the grace of god, you handled yourself well enough to place three ordered knocks on Tashi's door, then slump to the floor with a deep sigh. Honestly, you didn't expect her to open the door. You didn't know what time it was but it was late enough into the night (or the early hours of the morning), that the rest of the world was silent.

Everything went silent for a moment as you stared at that wooden door. You focused on a dent in the door itself, right near the handle. You were so immersed in the indentation that you didn't notice the door hinged open.

"Well, well, well... look who it is," Tashi stared down at you with a slight smile. There she was.

"Tashi!" Your mood was instantly lifted at her company and smiled right back. The nastiness, the dread, and the remorse were lifted instantly once you saw her. She let out a sigh once she saw your state— your outfit was skimpy, mascara and eyeliner were smeared all over your face, and you looked like you'd cried a river.

"Christ," She sighed out your name, "Can't you have a good night?"

¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♬·

You and Tashi lay on her bed peacefully, and you exchanged no sentiments in those moments. She'd washed you up from your sordid state and now she was tracing designs in the curve of your hip. Tashi laid her chin on your head and you nestled on her collarbone. This was a frequent situation for either of you, as, during tournaments during your adolescent year, nights were spent braiding each other's hair, swapping secrets with smiles, and just being girls.

"So, are we going to talk about it?" Tashi hummed, staring out into her own cluttered room. Smiling like a fool you replied, "Talk about what?"

"Art, he told me about what happened." She continued, her hand moved from your hip to your hair. Tashi threaded her fingers through it gently and you let out a giggle.

"Pfft, Art.. that stupid, dumb blonde," Laughter filled the room, and you drew your head away from Tashi to meet her. "He's just stupid, that's all."

Tashi held back her own laughter at your intoxicated words, "I see.." You nodded in confirmation and laid back down cuddled back in. "Well, I just wanted you to know that this week I wasn't trying to avoid you," She resumed, "Art just told me about your emotional state, and knowing you, I know you like space."

You hoisted your head again and sneered, "You'd believe that twink?" Tashi giggled and rolled her eyes, "I don't think you can say that anymore," She spoke your name in a scold, "But, yes I did, he's pretty fucking convincing you know."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... Convincing my ASS," Your eyebrows drew together in irritation at the mention of the boy, "He's stupid, just like the other one.."

Dead air obscured the room again, the only sound being you and Tashi's breathing. The warmth you'd felt from the alcohol returned again, but it felt different. It didn't feel as murky or slowing, it felt good. Yet, the disgrace from earlier was still in the back of your mind. You knew the next day would hold so much bullshit for you and your friend depending on Patrick's efforts or if Art decided to tell Tashi whatever Patrick would recount to him. The involvement of the two boys had made everything so muddled.

"Tashi,"

"Hm?"

"Promise me you'll love me forever?" You asked quietly, finally breaking the tranquility. The voice you had dawned felt foreign to you, it was desperate, vulnerable. Tashi pulled herself away from you to meet your eyes. Her deep sharp eyes scrutinized you with an unreadable gaze.

"What do you mean?" She asked, trying to laugh it off with a dry chuckle.

"I said what I meant," You slurred in reply, a pout, "Will you love me forever?"

Tashi scoffed, "I'm not fucking Mother Theresa," She said your name with a mocking edge. "You're my best friend, I..." Tashi stopped to carefully phrase her words so you could understand in your blitzed condition. "I like you more than any other person on planet Earth."

Your pout formed into a frown, and you stayed silent. Tashi then exhaled wearily, knowing she'd hurt your feelings but didn't say anything. It was a staring contest that you wouldn't win. Tashi did like you a lot, more than she liked her family, friends, and her boyfriend. But she wasn't good at pretending—she couldn't pretend she loved more than one thing. She loved one thing, and one thing only; Tennis.

"Then I'll love you enough for the both of us." That response caught Tashi off guard and she blanked. "I'll love you seeds and all, Tashi Duncan." The announcement of your love for her wasn't on the list of things Tashi thought she would've heard tonight. A nervousness overtook her but you didn't notice, you just stared in determination.

"Seeds and all?" Tashi questioned, her demeanor shifted to something a bit fainter, similar to yours.

"Yes, Tashi, seeds and all," You said it as if it was the most common thing in the world and laid back down. A sudden wave of exhaustion had washed over you, it was so easy to fall asleep. Despite this, Tashi stayed awake and watched you. It wasn't uncommon for you to say sappy shit and for Tashi to combat it with banter, but this felt more amorous; for the first time in the girl's life, she felt confused.

Tashi glanced back down at your sleeping figure. You looked so peaceful and pretty. An involuntary grin graced her features as she lay next to you. Her face was inches away from your own, bringing her hand to brush away some stray pieces of your hair to simply stare at you.

"I love you too," The girl muttered your name, kissing the apple of your cheek, turning around to her side of the bed, and falling into a slumber soon after. Tashi had assumed you were sleeping and wouldn't remember it even if you weren't. But, unfortunately for her, you had heard.

Tashi Duncan loved you.

¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♬·

𝘾𝙄𝙉𝘾𝙄𝙉𝙉𝘼𝙏𝙄, 𝙊𝙃𝙄𝙊, 2011

𝘊𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪 𝘖𝘱𝘦𝘯

The hotel bar's music softly played through the speakers, setting a particular homely affection amid the room. A few people were there, tennis players and normal patrons alike, drinking or crying over their loss today. Cincinnati, Ohio was one of the last stops any of these players had of making it to the US Open but unfortunately, they didn't make the cut.

You on the other hand? The 15-step plan was in motion but this time you'd be first. Going pro three years ago was one of the best decisions you'd made, in your life. The dream was cradled in the palm of your hand. Young, beautiful, determined, the brands just ate you up.

Being sponsored by Nike, doing commercials for popular products, and selling out was pretty amicable. The celebrity that came with it was a sweet taste that you sunk your teeth in. People shouted your name on the street and begged for your signature, they wanted you. The only downside was that now and again you'd have to see him.

God, You thought, when was the last time I heard this song... Instead of nursing your drink, you glanced around the room, observing the players. You recognized some from previous competitions and some you'd played today. Suddenly, noticing how everyone had someone to talk to, it was exposing to be the lone person at the bar. At 23 and no man, for now, was a smidge uncomfortable.

So why were you holding her hand?

Is that the way we stand?

Were you lying all the time?

Was it just a game to you...

While scanning the room, you saw her, sitting there with her computer propped up and sporting a shorter hairstyle. A jolt surged through you, you'd seen enough of her today, and you swiveled your head back forward. Another bad move, there he was. The blonde shaggy curls bedazzled you when he strolled in. Art Donaldson walked through the room and the world stopped turning.

Art walked into the bar in search of something. He just didn't know what. For the past few weeks since the Atlanta Open, he'd been on edge; for what he didn't really know. The looming task of the US Open had been teasing him for years, but he was young. He had time to play and win it, this year might just be his year. Though that's what he told himself. The US Open was what he was worried about. Yes, nothing more, nothing less, and absolutely not about certain brunettes.

Art made eye contact with you for a split second. A look flashed across both of your faces, both with varying feelings. Art's face showed an emotion of enchantment, like seeing a rare jewel. You looked like you swallowed sour milk. You shifted your gaze away from him and back to your drink. The alcohol stung your nose.

But I'm in so deep

You know I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger...

Do you have to let it linger?

A shiver strained through you, wondering if the universe was truly trying to get you to buy 30 mg of fentanyl and a bottle of vodka. Art you were used to, both of you were established and young tennis players, it was foretold the two of you would cross paths after that day. Every time it did happen there were formalities exchanged between you two, and then you'd take 4 shots of the choice of alcohol that night and cry.

Art peeked back at you once more before back on his path to Tashi. She was perfect, he had known that fact since the day he met her. Shoved on the pedestal, his fiance typed stormily at her computer, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.

A smile grazed his face, "Hey," He sat down across from her. Tashi barely acknowledged him with a nod. Art sighed and tapped on the rim of her computer, "Hey Tashi..."

Tashi exhaled and lips thinned, "Hi, what's up?" She curtly replied, "I'm working right now on our deal with Nike," Art's confidence slightly buckled under her glare and apparent annoyance with him.

"Oh, well, nothing..." He trailed off with his smile being replaced with a slight pout, unfortunately for Art, this irritated the coach more. "Well, then get out of my face. You have a game tomorrow," She articulated concisely instructed him with a tone a mother would use, "A game you need to win."

Art straightened up a bit, winning was important, he knew that but he missed Tashi. His paranoia surely wasn't helping her curtness as of recently, but he was still relegating it to US Open nerves. He just needed to win and it'd be fine. "Okay," He agreed, "I'll see you upstairs?" The blonde was met with a quick nod, the sound of typing only emitted.

"I love you."

"I know."

Art left the table with a sullen expression on his features, but you didn't know that. Now you were focused on what type of wood the table was, to avoid thinking about when was the last time the three of you were in the same room. Maybe it's maple.... Your thoughts were soon cut off by a buzz from your phone. The iPhone 4 buzzed madly in your pocket and you pulled it out.

It was some random number you didn't have on your phone.

415-xxx-xxxx

𝘏𝘪, 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘵, 𝘸𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬.

𝘔𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 3𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦.

𝘖𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦.

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺.

A miniature smile begged to come onto your features, even texting you could hear the way he'd talk with his comforting, careful diction. But then the meaning of the message settled deep inside you. He wanted to meet you up? Why? Confusion replaced the thick nostalgia as the cogs in your head started to work. It confused you, but you were intrigued. Plus, what was the worst that could happen?

212-xxx-xxxx

𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯

¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸¸¸♬·

Idily standing in the dingy ice room, you'd start contemplating your life choices. Specifically, the ones that led you to this moment. Why did you approve of this? Why did you go to that fucking bar? You're not even supposed to drink the day before a game. Oh, that's right, you remembered, Patrick Zweig.

♬☆♬☆♬☆

Earlier that day...

The cooling feeling of the concrete against your back felt like pertinent compensation after a day of sprinting around in the sun. You'd finally made it to the semi-finals after dominating through the bracket, some you'd played against during earlier tournaments, others were just painless to beat and move on to the following one. Nonetheless, the girl you'd just played had given you a run for your money. Not because she was good, but because you were distracted.

Tashi Duncan, coach of the FAMOUS Art Donaldson, observed your match. You'd noticed her when perusing the stands after the first game when you were looking for your friend who had come to cheer you on. Seeing her was the biggest mistake of your game, serve after serve it'd either be out or barely touched the net. It was utterly embarrassing and you'd lost the second game by 15 love. When it was the break you'd skimmed only to find her gone.

It pissed you off. Who the fuck does she think she is? You clenched your water bottle angrily, your knuckles shy of a shade lighter than normal skin tone. The spite of Tashi leaving your game (or so you thought) had lit that flame that you doused years ago. The flame of insecurity produced by Tashi Duncan.

You were relentless against the girl, hitting the ball with your full strength each and every time. An intense volley had occurred in the middle of the game, so intense that your opponent fell face forward in an attempt to catch the shot (she did not). The stadium was silent other than the loud sounds of your grunts and anger. It was hotter than the concrete you played on but just as hard. It pissed you off so much that when you won, instead of your normal self-indulgent bow, you smashed your racquet to the floor and a roar. The crowd scarfed it down, hailing you as a passionate and beautiful player, tenacious against competition.

In all honesty, you just wanted to go home and cry, but you were hustled off the court to where you are now. Stranded in the hallway and lying in your muddled emotions. It was now the men's bracket, but you didn't plan on watching anyone. Particularly Donaldson. Yet, trying to make it out of the vacant hallway, a familiar face entered your vision.

"There's the golden girl!" No words in a dictionary could express the face you made at that moment.

"Oh my..." You muttered under your breath, turning around to see Patrick Zwieg, in all of his sleazy glory. "What in the ever-loving fuck are you doing here Patrick?"

Patrick laughed with faux hurt, "Aw, aren't you just a ball of sunshine!" He tried to get closer to you but you edged back. He gauged your expression and sighed, "And here I thought you'd be happy to see me..."

You scoffed in disgust, "Christ Patrick, seeing you is like seeing a dog with cancer, it should be put down already." The brunette's lips pulled into a smirk, he crossed his arms and gave an irksome look.

"Well, I'm not a dog," He corrected, "I'm a cat and we got 9 lives." An exasperated sigh left your lips, your eyes meeting his with a tiredness. After the mind-fuck of seeing Tashi, you had no bandwidth for Patrick's bitchiness.

"I don't fucking care, Patrick," You hissed, finally starting back on your walk. Patrick started to slightly slip from his confidence, he hadn't expected this. He usually was able to keep you around for a good banter but you'd genuinely just stopped it this time. To keep you from going he snatched your forearm, keeping you from going any further.

Your glare deepened, "Let me go!" He didn't budge and kept you in place, although you started struggling to try and escape his strong grasp.

Patrick spoke your name calmly, "I just want to talk..." He sounded like he was talking to a feral cat. Grunting and now starting to whine, you struggled in an attempt to get away from him and this conversation. "About what? How you fucked over my best-" You stopped yourself, the word 'friend' died on the tip of your tongue. You two weren't friends, you hadn't been for years. Patrick caught this moment of vulnerability and used this.

"Friend? Please, she left you once you got better," He goaded with a sinister grin, "She couldn't stand that you could play and she couldn't."

The struggle became relentless as you started to shout for 'help' but it was useless. You were isolated. The best you'd gotten was dragging Patrick an inch or two across the floor, no escape was foreseen. A thin line formed on your lips as you glared.

"Shut up Patrick, don't fucking project your bullshit with Art on me,' You spat venomously, "He won, you're fucking losing, so what?"

Patrick chuckled drily, "Won what? The match? In case you forgot I won that-"

"NO!" You cut him off with a shout, "God no Patrick, he won at life. He's getting married to the girl you, and only you Patrick, lost because you're a dipshit." Face contorted into one of pure hatred for the man in front of you, and his hold finally slackened for you to draw your arm back.

Patrick rolled his eyes, "Newsflash, I slept with the girl I lost like.." He stopped speaking to count on his fingers, "Three weeks ago!" A triumphant and smug smirk graced his features.

"Great, so you can add home-wrecker to your tennis accolades?" You raised a brow and scoffed again, "You astonish me Zweig, you really do."

Patrick's grin didn't budge, "I aim to please," He did feel quite pleased with himself, and was even more pleased because he confidently believed you were jealous. Jealous that Tashi Duncan slept with him again and you didn't. He was sorely mistaken.

A heavy breath was taken in and you became focused. You knew exactly what you wanted to say to him, "Patrick, you may've fucking one that on match, let's say a battle." You began harshly, "But you didn't win the war, Art did."

Coming closer to Patrick to look him square in the eye, "Art is going to marry Tashi, he won. He will continue to win and be remembered." Patrick clenched his fists to try and calm himself, your words cutting in like serrated blades, "Who will you be Patrick?"

The question echoed throughout Patrick's mind, but you didn't waste time on his reply. Quickly, you stormed away after and resolved that the finest thing to do was to drink this moment away.

♬☆♬☆

A disgusted exclamation softly left your lips as you remembered that instant from today. Patrick always knew how to rile you up, to push your buttons until they'd break. At this point, you thought he enjoyed pissing you off. However, your internal monologuing was cut off by approaching footsteps. Darting up from the checkered carpeted floor, the blonde approached.

Art felt his palms begin to sweat when he saw your languid figure up against the vending machine. You looked so effortlessly beautiful to him, even when looking like you wanted to kill him. He sauntered into the small corridor and shut the door behind him.

Then, he pivoted around to face you. A hush swallowed both of you. It had been the first time you two were alone in around 3 years, at least. Art looked nervous meanwhile you looked disinterested.

"So?" You asked expectantly, "What did you need to talk about?" Art uncoiled and bit his lip. What did he want to talk about again..?

"Oh uhm.." He stuttered, "Hi, so..." Art desperately combed his mind for an answer, "I just saw you and I..." He coughed awkwardly and shifted his weight, "I just wanted to know how you were."

You took a deep breath and then let out a sigh, "Great, so you wanted to waste my time?" Art visibly flinched at your response and his lips twitched in apprehension.

"No, I just missed you," He asserted quickly, trying to meet your tone. Art's deep blue eyes met your own and something tugged at your heartstrings. "We both missed you."

"We?" A wiry laugh echoed in the room, "I don't think Tashi misses me, Arthur, but a cute way of guilt-tripping me." You cooed mockingly with a smirk. A sour expression fell across Art's countenance at the use of his full government name.

Sighing, he leaned against the wall and; after a beat spoke, "We watched your name today," Art stared at you intensely, "You were good, but what fucked you up during the second game?"

You clenched your fists, annoyed that he had been there too. "I don't know, it's called none-ya."

"What's none-ya?" He asked, confused by your retort.

"None of ya fucking business, Donaldson," You shot, "We aren't friends, we don't have tea parties and talk about fucking tennis."

"Well," Art started calmly, holding himself together, "Why don't we talk about anything but tennis?" You smiled fakly at his offer and stepped toward him, the height difference not really being too big, close enough to meet eye to eye.

"Then why the hell are we talking, Art, if we're not talking tennis?"

Art was silenced by your reply and stared down at the floor. He understood why you were acting the way you were, you were hurt. Aching. He would be too if he were in your shoes. The boy knew it wasn't him that should be talking to you. If anything would be solved between you and him, it'd first have to be solved between you and his fiance.

So, he looked back up at you, "I don't know why are we still talking?" The way Art said your name triggered some deep-buried emotions you had killed many years ago along with your insecurities. It was the seductive, whiny nature of Art Donaldson that kept you awake during the hard, lonely nights and right now it was your reality.

The space between you two was barely existent, lips almost touching... Your phone buzzed. The moment was ruined instantly and you quickly plucked out your phone. It was your coach, texting you verbatim to 'GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP, NOW!' with five angry emojis.

Art's eyes searched your movements as you read the message. He was so intent on solving or fixing things with you tonight that he hadn't acknowledged that other outside forces could interfere. When he saw you play today and then back at the bar? It fell into place for him, he just had to have you again. He had to. He deserved it right?

You shoved Art aside and opened the door, focused on now going to sleep and preparing for your game tomorrow. Simply put, you didn't have time for stupid boys like Art Donaldson who wanted to play tennis with two balls. It was ineffective.

But, just as you were down the hallway he shouted, "Tashi misses you!" You ignored him, "She told me to tell you."

"Tell her," Turning around so he could directly hear you, "Tell her that she can go fuck herself, and," You had stopped speaking, storming off to right in front of the man, "Go fuck yourself too." It was easy to snatch the collar of his old grey hoodie and capture him in a kiss.

The clash of lips was a brutish one, Art being caught off guard and you kissing forcefully as if he was the last thing on earth. His hands traveled to your jaw and let you take control of the kiss.

It was a longer one, almost juvenile, letting yourself clash teeth or slightly push up against him. You finally pulled away, his bottom lip sliding through your teeth slowly, keeping eye contact while it bounced back in place.

The both of you were flushed a deep crimson, now both frustrated and sexually frustrated you let out an exclamation of anger and strode furiously down the hall, into the stairway.

There left was Art, his attempts hopeless and now he was alone. His hand shakily rose to his lips where you had just been. Fingers gently grazing his lip before letting out a shaky sigh. It'd been forever since he'd been caught so off-guard, it shook him inside. You always did, pushing his own buttons instead of yours. Art was always susceptible to your touch and words.

Yet, frowned when he thought of the way you had spoken to him tonight. You had become so jaded, so much more.. mean. It reminded him of how Tashi used to talk back at Stanford. Before the injury. How confident she was, somehow more than now, and how she had the world at the tips of her fingers. Art silently wished he'd handled that day differently than he did. But, deep down, he knew he didn't. Art got what he wanted at the end of the day, wasn't that beautiful?

ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2

Hi! I really hope you guys liked this chapter, I really wanted to explore the character dynamics more and just flesh out the relationships. It'll get spicy, trusttt!

Please like or comment!! I would love to hear what y'all think or want for the plot, you guys were literally so, so nice in the last part!

Thank you for reading <3

🇹​​🇦​​🇬​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​:

@jackierose902109

@bloodyrevengedbullets

@ssababe

@skylerwhitwyo

[cowboybeepboop]

Always Been You

“Tell me this isn’t a one time thing,” you mumble against his tan skin as you cuddle closer to him.

“This is definitely not a one time thing,” he reassures you, his voice soft yet firm.

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem! Reader

Genre: romance/smut, kinda fluff at the end

Word count: 3180

Summary: Tyler is your childhood best friend and just so happens to be your first love, the one man you can’t get over. The feeling is mutual, and after almost screwing it up, he makes the first move.

a/n: It fr is a Glen Powell summer, twisters has brought back my obsession with him 😭 I do take requests so send any you have my way! Hope you enjoy 😊

The summer breeze carried a hint of coolness as the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the lake. You shivered slightly, feeling the goosebumps rise on your arms. You and Tyler had been coming to this spot by the lake since you were kids, sharing secrets and dreams under the shimmering stars. Now, in your early 20s, your friendship had only grown stronger, but something else was simmering just beneath the surface—something you were both afraid to acknowledge.

Tyler, ever attentive, noticed your subtle shiver and instinctively pulled you into his embrace. It felt natural, right, and you sat in comfortable silence, the warmth of your bodies blending as the sun continued its slow descent. In that moment, you felt an overwhelming surge of emotions—love, desire, and a longing that had been building up for years. Snuggling into his chest you sigh contentedly.

The familiar scent of his cologne fills your nostrils, making your heart race. His strong arms around you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his heartbeat, it was all so familiar.

Tyler tightens his arms around you, holding you closer. He rested his chin on top of your head, his breath tickling your hair as he began to speak, his voice soft and earnest.

“Can I ask you something?” You look up at him with curiosity in your expression.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He pulls back slightly to meet your eye, his gaze is intent and sincere. His hands slide down to your hips as you turn to face him, his thumbs absentmindedly tracing circles on your skin.

”We’ve been friends for so long now,” he begins, pausing to gather his thoughts. “And lately.. I’ve been feeling different.” His fingers grip you tighter, his thumbs still tracing lazy circles on your hips.

”Ty? What do you mean?” Your eyebrows scrunch as you look at him with worry. “Different how?” You move out of his arms he looks taken aback. He lets out a sigh and rubs the back of his neck nervously.

”Damnit, I'm not good at this,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. He looks at you for a moment, his eyes filled with a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I mean I’ve been having… thoughts. About you. Thoughts that maybe we shouldn’t be friends anymore.” He groans at the realization of what he said.

Your eyes fill with hurt as you stand up, “Why?” His hands move to grasp your arm. You yank your arm away, “Why are you saying that?” Tyler winces at your reaction, he hadn’t meant to hurt you.

He runs a hand through his hair, a frustrated look on his face. “I didn’t mean it like that, i just mean…” he struggles to find the right words. “I don’t want to just be friends anymore.” He takes a step towards you, his hand going to your cheek.

“I want.. more than that. He says softly, his eyes pleading. “I want us to be… more” you relax a sigh escaping your parted lips.

”More than just friends?” You giggle, he truly is bad at this, he made you think that things were over between you both.

Tyler gives a sheepish smile, his shoulders relaxing at your light-hearted reaction. His thumb gently brushes your cheek. “Yeah, more than just friends,” he confirms, a hint of relief in his voice.

“I’m sorry I didn’t phrase it well,” he says, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “But I really do mean it… I want us to be more than friends.” He steps closer to you, his other hand resting on your hip. “I want you,” he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours.

You wrap your arms around his neck, standing on your tippy toes as you pull yourself closer to him. “I want you too,” you whisper into his ear. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to make a move.”

Tyler’s heart races as you pull yourself closer to him, your words sending shivers down his spine. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His eyes darken with desire as he gazes down at you.

“Really?” he whispers, his voice gruff. “You’ve been waiting?” He leans down, his lips hovering just above your ear. “How long?” he murmurs before gently nipping at your earlobe.

”Years...” You moan softly as his hands explore your body. “How long are you going to make me wait for a kiss?” You mumble. Tyler growls in response, his grip tightening on your waist. He pulls you even closer, his chest pressed against yours.

“You want a kiss?” he teases, his lips hovering just millimeters from your own. “All you had to do was ask.” He leans in, his breath hot against your skin. “But I must warn you, once I start, I might not stop.”

You press your lips to his in a passionate kiss, your hand going to the back of his head. Pulling away you whisper against his lips “Who said I would want you to?” Your other hand sliding down his back as you lean in for another kiss.

Tyler lets out a guttural moan as your lips meet his in a passionate kiss. His hands grip your hips tighter, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He leans into the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance between your parted lips. He pushes you backwards, backing you up against a nearby tree.

Breaking off the kiss, he trails kisses down your jawline, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. “You’re driving me insane sweetheart” he whispers huskily. You moan softly as he trails hickeys down your exposed skin.

”Tyler..” you moan his name as he slides his hands up your shirt. His name falling from your lips in a soft moan sets his blood on fire. He continues to kiss and nip at your neck, his hands roaming beneath your shirt, his touch leaving a trail of fire on your skin.

He sucks a particularly sensitive spot just under your ear, causing you to arch into his touch. “Baby, you don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he groans against your skin. You press your fingers into his back, pulling him closer to you.

”Then show me what I’m doing to you,” You mumble into his ear. Your words against his ear send a jolt of electricity down his spine.

Without warning, he lifts you off the ground, gripping your thighs and pressing you against the tree. He devours your mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue exploring the seam of your lips, seeking entry.

His hands grip your thighs tighter as he grinds against you, the growing bulge in his jeans pressing against you. “This,” he murmurs, his breath ragged, “this is what you do to me.”

”Fuck,” you moan, your head falling back against the tree.

Encouraged by your response, Tyler deepens the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours as he moves his hands to cup your breasts. You gasp into his mouth, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body. His thumbs flick over your hardened nipples, making you squirm against him.

You wrap your legs around his waist, your core pulsing with desire. He breaks the kiss to gaze into your eyes, which are glazed with lust. "Take me home," you murmur, your voice thick with need. "Now." Tyler's smile widens, his eyes dark with passion.

"With pleasure," he whispers, scooping you up into his arms and carrying you away from the lake, towards the promise of a night filled with long-suppressed passion and the unraveling of a love story that had been waiting to be told.

The short drive home seems like an eternity as you can't resist the urge to explore Tyler's arousal. With the car still moving, you unbuckle your seatbelt and slide closer to him, your hand deftly moving to the bulge in his jeans. Tyler's eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't protest.

Instead, he groans as you unbutton his pants and pull out his hard, throbbing erection. You lean in, wrapping your soft, warm lips around the tip of his length. His grip tightens on the steering wheel as you begin to suck, your tongue swirling around him in a way that makes his hips jerk involuntarily.

The car swerves slightly, but you don't stop, taking him deeper into your mouth. The sensation of his smooth skin against your tongue and the taste of him is intoxicating. Tyler's breathing turns ragged as he watches you in the dim light of the car, his eyes dark with desire.

He adjusts his position, allowing you better access, and you eagerly take advantage, bobbing your head in a rhythm that has him moaning with pleasure. You feel powerful, knowing you're the one driving him wild with need, and you can't wait to feel him lose control completely in your arms.

With a final, desperate thrust, Tyler's body goes rigid as he reaches his climax, his warm release filling your mouth. You swallow eagerly, savoring the taste of him as he gasps your name.

He parks the car with trembling hands, and the moment it's in park, he pulls you over to straddle him, his hands tangled in your hair as he deepens the kiss. His hips buck up into you, his arousal still palpable against your center. "Inside," he whispers, his voice hoarse with passion. You nod eagerly, not breaking the kiss as you both fumble with the car door.

The anticipation is almost unbearable as you stumble towards the house, your hands roaming over each other's bodies, unable to get enough. The door slams shut behind you, echoing through the quiet night as you both race to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way.

The air is thick with desire, and the promise of a night filled with passionate exploration and the discovery of each other's bodies. As you fall onto the bed, you know that nothing will ever be the same between you again, but you're ready for this new chapter in your relationship. The love that's been simmering for years is finally ready to burn bright and fiercely, and you can't wait to see where it will take you.

The room is filled with the sound of your moans and his grunts as Tyler's strong body covers yours, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes into you. He takes his time, savoring every inch of your wet heat, filling you completely. His hips move in a steady rhythm that has you clutching the bedsheets, your legs shaking with the intensity of each thrust.

Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he hits that perfect spot, your breath hitching in your throat. "More," you beg, and he obliges, his pace increasing, his strokes growing more urgent. Your walls tighten around him, your body desperately trying to hold onto the feeling of him deep inside you.

His hands grip your hips, guiding you to meet his every movement, and together, you find a rhythm that feels like it was made just for the two of you. The room is a blur of passion and desire as you both give in to the explosive chemistry that's been building for so long.

The love that's been simmering just beneath the surface of your friendship now burns hot and wild, and you know that this night will be the first of many where you'll explore the depths of your newfound love and lust. Each thrust feels like a declaration of passion, each touch a promise of forever, and as your bodies come together in perfect harmony, you realize that you're exactly where you're meant to be—in the arms of your best friend, now your lover, as you both cross the line from friendship to something far more intimate and profound.

With each powerful thrust, Tyler loses more of his self-control, his passion for you overwhelming him as he feels you tighten around him. His eyes are squeezed shut, his teeth gritted, and his breathing turns ragged as he approaches the precipice of his own climax.

He can feel your nails digging into his back, your moans growing louder, and your hips bucking to meet his every movement. The bed creaks beneath you, a testament to the intensity of your love-making. His grip on your hips tightens, his strokes becoming more erratic as he fights to hold back the tide of pleasure threatening to consume him.

But the feeling of you, so wet and warm, your body responding to his every touch, is too much. With a final, guttural growl, Tyler surrenders to the explosion of ecstasy, burying himself deep inside you as he releases.

Your walls clench around him, milking him for all he's worth, and he collapses onto your chest, his breathing heavy and uneven. For a moment, the world stands still, your hearts pounding in sync as you both bask in the aftermath of your shared passion.

Then, with a soft smile, Tyler kisses your forehead, whispering, "I've been waiting for this for so long." You wrap your arms around him, feeling the same overwhelming love and satisfaction, knowing that this is just the beginning of a love story that has been years in the making.

Tyler flips onto his back, bringing you with him so that you straddle his waist, his still-hard length nestled between your thighs. He brushes your hair off your sweaty forehead, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and love as he looks up at you. "You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice still thick with passion.

You lean down to kiss him, your breasts brushing against his chest as you move to capture his mouth with yours. The kiss is gentle, filled with the sweetness of a love that's been realized.

His hands slide down to your hips, his fingers tracing the curves of your body as you begin to rock against him, his length sliding through your slick folds. He groans into the kiss, his body responding to your movements. You break the kiss, looking down at him with a smoldering gaze.

With a newfound confidence, you guide Tyler's still-throbbing cock into your wetness, straddling him as you begin to ride his length once again. Your hips move in a slow, sensual rhythm, taking him deep inside you as you gaze into his eyes, which are now filled with a mix of love and unbridled desire.

His hands grip your waist, his thumbs pressing into your hips as he lifts you up and down, urging you to go faster, deeper. The friction sends sparks of pleasure through your body, igniting a fire that seems to never die out. Each movement feels like a declaration of love, a silent promise that this is where you both belong.

Tyler's eyes never leave yours as he watches you take control, his admiration for your beauty and strength growing with every moan that escapes your lips. You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, feeling his heart hammer against yours as you move in perfect sync. The room is filled with the sounds of passion—the slap of skin on skin, the wetness of your union, and the unspoken words of love that hang in the air like a sweet, intoxicating perfume.

Tyler's eyes flare with desire, and with a smirk, he takes control, his hips rising to meet your every move. The intimate dance of your bodies continues, each of you learning the other's rhythm, the other's needs. The room is filled with the sound of your skin slapping together, your breathy moans and his deep, needy groans.

The tension builds again, coiling tighter and tighter in your bellies until you're both on the edge once more. Then, with a final, desperate thrust, Tyler arches up into you, his eyes squeezed shut as he finds his release, his body trembling beneath yours. You follow shortly after, your orgasm crashing over you like a wave, leaving you both gasping for breath as you collapse into a tangled heap of limbs.

The only sounds in the room are your panting breaths and the soft whispers of "I love you" as you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the weight of your shared love and passion pressing down on you in the most delicious way possible.

As the intensity of your shared passion subsides, Tyler showers your face with gentle kisses, his love for you written in every tender touch. His arms wrap around you tightly, holding you close as if he never wants to let go. You melt into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart a comforting reminder of the connection you now share.

The room is bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun, painting the walls with shades of pink and orange. With a contented sigh, you snuggle closer, feeling the weight of the day's revelations and the promise of a future filled with passion and love.

As the night stretches out before you, you know that this is just the start of a journey you'll take together, hand in hand, heart to heart. The air is thick with the scent of your combined arousal, a scent that fills the room with a sense of belonging and desire that neither of you can ignore. With one final, lingering kiss, Tyler rolls over, pulling you with him so that you're both lying on your sides, your legs entwined.

“Tell me this isn’t a one time thing,” you mumble against his tan skin as you cuddle closer to him.

His arms tighten around you as you cuddle against him, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. He tilts his head down to kiss the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your hair. “This is definitely not a one time thing,” he reassures you, his voice soft yet firm.

He pulls you closer, his arms encircling you like a protective cocoon. “I want this, I want you. For as long as you’ll have me.” A smile creeps up on your lips as you kiss his chest.

”Then will you take me on a proper date tomorrow?” Breathing in his scent as you close your eyes. Tyler gently pulls the covers up higher, enveloping you in a comforting warmth. He strokes your hair idly as you settle against his chest.

"Of course, sweetheart," he murmurs, his heart swelling with affection. "I'll take you out for the best damn date you've ever been on." He kisses the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. "I'll make sure it's perfect, just like you."

He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his breath warm and comforting, as the rhythm of his chest rising and falling lulls you into a peaceful slumber. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the warmth of each other's arms, basking in the afterglow of your first night as lovers.

[joonsytip]

Only for Love || Mingyu - Part 3

Pairings: Mingyu x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Husband!Mingyu, Cold Wife!Reader, Arranged Marriage au, Contract Marriage au, Divorce au

Synopsis: When an accidental discovery has your perception of happy married life crumbling down, you do what you think is the best for everyone involved. Naturally, your opinion of the best doesn't cater to your husband's. So what happens when things spiral out due to unforeseen events?

Warnings: character death, mentions of pregnancy, Mingyu acts dumb, reader goes through a whole lot of emotional turmoil, mentions of divorce, tears, profanities, major angst.

Word Count: 5.7k

@wongyuuu thanks a lot for brainstorming out this with me & happy birthday, love! 💕🎂

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

Teaser | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue

Mingyu returns to an empty house. He waits for you for an hour, two hours and when the clock strikes midnight his mind clouds with concern. He fishes out his phone and ignoring the series of notifications that keeps on popping up, he calls you.

But with all his calls remaining unanswered, Mingyu surges in panic and calls Soonyoung who's extremely pissed and shows his discontentment through a dry, edgy reply.

"She left with Minghao."

That's the only line Mingyu hears before getting hung up. And Soonyoong does not pick up his call again.

And now he sits rooted to the couch, tapping feet in anxiety and worry with no idea about your whereabouts and who the hell is Minghao?

His thoughts bounce off the walls and he decides to take his car and drives off to find you aimlessly. He goes to your office only to be greeted by the security. He goes to the café you are regular at, knowing very well that it would be closed but he makes a round just for his sanity. He knocks on your apartment door but it's empty just like the house was.

Dejected he fishes out his phone to call your uncle when the notification of your name flashes on the screen.

'Meet me at home within fifteen minutes.'

There's no way he's gonna get home within the said timeframe but just as he rushes towards his car, his phone vibrates again.

'Half an hour. Don't run the red lights, don't run over people.'

Mingyu listens to your advice and thankfully he reaches you in one piece.

But he stands frozen as he sees you in the hallway carrying a duffle bag.

"Where were you?", no greetings, you ask checking your watch.

Mingyu knows you know and you know that he knows that you know.

"I had to leave with Sora."

"And who's she?"

Mingyu bites his tongue before answering, "My ex."

"What made you go somewhere with your ex rather than watch your wife getting felicitated?", your voice is calmer than usual and it scares your husband to the bones.

He stays silent. And you wait for him like you have all the time in the world.

"I can't tell you right now, Y/N. I'm sorry.", he answers quietly, lowering his gaze.

"Okay.", you say and Mingyu looks at you flabbergasted. Before he could speak, you add,"I'm going to stay at my uncle's."

Mingyu feels electrified, the sensation which burns his whole body, itches on his skin and scratches at the throat.

"I'm sorry, I know it is an unacceptable behaviour of me but please trust me. I haven't done anything to be ashamed of.", Mingyu grabs your hands and blabbers, "You can stay with your uncle but please tell me when you are going to return, that you're going to return."

You pull back your hands from his grip, "I don't think I'll be returning anytime soon.", you say sternly, "I had something to share with you but this isn't the right time."

"Y/N--"

"Before I leave, tell me one thing. Are you going to keep seeing her?"

Mingyu flares at this, "I'm not seeing her for fucks sake! I would never do something bad, I'm your husband."

You stare at him for a solid minute, "You didn't answer my question. Anyways, I'm disappointed. Keep yourself in my shoes and give it a thought."

"Let me drive you, it's late.", he offers.

"You don't have to worry about me, Minghao is already waiting with his car."

Mingyu twitches on hearing the name for the second time, "And who's that?"

"I can't tell you right now, Mingyu. I'm sorry.", you mimic his words from before and just as you are about to cross the threshold, you whisper shaking your head, "You can't even put yourself in my shoes..."

Mingyu watches you leave with a grim heart.

It's been a two weeks since you've been living with your uncle. And though you've left home in despair, Mingyu has somehow made it a mission to win back your trust.

But who's gonna tell him that you never doubted him, you were just mad, just like a teenage girl who can't keep her act straight in front of her love.

He calls you every night. For the first week you didn't pick up his calls but when your anger started to subside you entertained his calls but never spoke much, just listened to him telling how his day went. He asks every time if could visit you, getting a straight no as reply. He might be obedient but he's sneaky as hell because most of the times when you're getting off work you somehow see him engrossed with some conversation with Soonyoung at the parking.

What is he doing at your workplace almost everyday, when he could crash at Soonyoung's place. Why does Soonyoung have to call out your name every time when you're walking past them, roping you into some small talks.

Soonyoung is the imposter.

And why does everytime aa you are about to take leave after the conversation, Mingyu asks you the same question, "When are you returning?"

You never answer.

"You've gotta be kidding me!", Seokmin yelps. They all have gathered at Mingyu's place because everyone is stressed and wants to know what is actually happening.

"There are all sorts of rumours at the workplace. And I wanna punch everyone in the face.", Soonyoung says dejected, "Minghao and Y/N went to the same university so some are saying that they have dated during that time." he takes a chug from the can and continues, "And since Mingyu didn't show up at the event last time, it has sparked the speculations."

Mingyu sits head lowered, rubbing his hands all over the face.

"I'm sure Minghao likes her. I can tell by the way he looks at her.", Soonyoung puts it down.

"What about Y/N?", Mingyu asks his heart beating in his chest rapidly.

"What do you think dumbass?", Junhui glares at him.

"Woah, I'm offended now that you asked that question.", Hansol speaks in distaste.

"It's been a month without her.", Mingyu sighs, his lips curl down, eyes filled with concern, "I think everything was going back to normal, assuming by the way she responded, I felt like she'd be coming back anytime but she has gone radio silent suddenly. For the past two weeks she isn't responding to my calls or texts, she is even working from home."

"Yeah maybe Minhee can tell something", Junhui suggests, "But I doubt she'd spill anything if Y/N has told her not to."

The evening bleeds into night and the guys keep on chatting when suddenly Jeonghan who hasn't been much involved decides to speak.

"Now that Sora is back? What are you gonna do?"

The laughters die down and room falls silent with all the eyes on Mingyu.

"What's going on guys? Is there something we don't know?", Seokmin asks in fear.

Jeonghan leans back on the couch and looks at Mingyu, saying, "I think it's time, they should know. I'll go first, that day Mingyu left with Sora to meet me. Apparently, the guy Sora had left Gyu for turns out to be a douch. Won't go to the details but he kept blackmailing her, so desperate to save herself and afraid that I won't be meeting her if she went alone, she took him with her. I'm skipping the legal parts and that guy has been sort of taken care off. But that's not where it ends.", he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, "The problem is that Sora wants him back now."

Gasps erupt through the room.

"Why did I see it coming though?", Seokmin says, "You have said no straight to her face right, Min?", he asks Mingyu.

The silence that follows horrifies every other one present in the room.

"Don't tell me...", Hansol trails off, eyeing his friend in utter disbelief.

"It's not what you're thinking.", Mingyu frowns, "I haven't said anything to Sora. But I have loved her for so long it's rolling back like a habit.", he hesitantly looks up and sees a bunch of disappointed faces, "But if it had been the previous me, I'd have gone to her in a snap but I'm changed now."

Mingyu gives a wry smile when looking at the relief washing over his friends.

"Here's the real deal begins. We have been married for over two years, in a few months we'd be hitting the three year mark. It's a long time right?", he sweeps his gaze across the large wedding frame of you both on the wall, "Instead of being a couple, I feel like living with a roommate. No feelings involved. She's stoic, nonchalant and even inconsiderate sometimes, even if I think that there's something between us, her actions act as bucket of cold water on those thoughts. I understand that not everyone is the same and I agree that Y/N has changed but somehow we're still at the starting point and it's starting to tire me out. Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to this marriage--"

There's a sudden thud and all the necks turn in unison only to find you standing by the hallway and your bag on the ground.

Heartbreak is one thing but the humiliation is another form of descend you're currently facing. You return your home only to find your husband shit talking about how unhappy he is in this marriage to his friends.

And the biggest loss turns out to be how you're the only one who thought that it's a happy, perfect marriage. Your husband isn't wrong when he said that you're inconsiderate.

Tears prick at your eyes but aren't you stoic, nonchalant so why should the people infront of you get the leverage to see you vulnerable? They shouldn't, so you pick up your bag and walk past them going straight into the guest room.

There are continuous knocks on the door. Your phone keeps ringing but you pay mind to none. Your mind only reels the words of your husband from before.

The previous you would have stomped out of the house but now, you can't. The situation has changed, the circumstances are different and you are totally lost.

Because there's a life is growing inside you. The reason you decided to return home tonight but your second attempt at letting Mingyu know that he's gonna be a father cracks again. The first attempt was the night where Mingyu chose Sora over you. He doesn't want you, would he want to raise a child with you?

Maybe you shouldn't have gotten married, maybe you shouldn't have fallen in love with your husband and maybe she's better, the previous you who knew you're undesirable, who knew that people like you are unlovable, who very well knew how to maintain a boundary.

You have lost the track of time but you sure can hear voices from the other side of the door. You think attachment is something you can't effort, you are not people's people.

So that's how what Mingyu had said, you turned into his roommate. Since that day, you have settled in the guest room. You don't get out of your room unless it's an emergency. You leave for work early and return home at late hours.

You haven't spoken to Mingyu since that day. You've rejected all his advances of striking a conversation. But you're thankful to him for making you food everyday because you can't eat anything else, it makes you nauseous.

"Hey, are you okay?", Minghao asks worried as he takes a sit beside you at the cafeteria of the office, "You have been throwing a lot."

You nod your head, avoiding his gaze, "I'm fine."

Minghao doesn't buy your words but you both settle in the comfortable silence and until he gasps.

You cock brows looking at him.

"Are you pregnant?", he gasps, "Oh my god."

You freeze and slap your hand over his mouth and proceed to tell him everything that has been happening.

"So Mingyu doesn't know yet. And he's being a jerk ever since his ex-girlfriend returned.", Minghao says in anger. He sweeps a gaze across your face and his eyes soften, "You love him, don't you?"

You avoid his gaze again, you don't answer him.

A sad smile graces on his lips as he reminiscences the past. How he had practically clinched himself in your life. How he had fallen in love with you but knew that you wouldn't reciprocate, the reason why he disappeared abruptly from your life years ago. The apologies are always on the tip of his tongue for leaving you alone, for creating the safe place but also leaving it void.

"You know you shouldn't be taking stress. I know it's not easy but I'd suggest for you both to sort things out, atleast for the baby.", he says patting your back in a comforting manner, "If Mingyu does anything to hurt you again, tell me I'll beat him for you."

"Thanks Hao.", you say smiling.

"Also let me know if Soonyoung bothers you. I'll handle him as well."

You shake your head laughing, "He insufferable Hao, you'll give up."

"We'll see that.", he smiles softly, "But do plan on telling him. Uncle also needs to know, he'd be so happy."

"I want the baby's father to know first. Then I'll tell everyone.", you assure him.

Mingyu knows he went overboard. He knows he was being an absolute asshole when he uttered those baseless words in your favour.

Maybe he should never have compared the type of relationship he had with Sora with the one he's having with you. It's a grave mistake and the lack of your presence is taking a toll on him. But he understands if you need space or even don't want to see his face. He's willing to give you all that but he plans to apologise to you and if you don't forgive him, he'd understand.

Work is hectic but the situation at home is feverish. He has been getting earfuls from all of his friends and family, specially Minhee. She has been giving him shit routinely.

His reverie breaks when he receives a text from you. Hurriedly opening the text, his eyes widen with a mixture of horror and anticipation.

'Come home as soon as possible. I have something to tell you.'

His mind could only hint at it being something ominous.

You pace around the entire house nervously.

"Mingyu, I'm pregnant. You're gonna be father."

You shake head at the selection of words.

"Congratulations! You're going to be a dad!"

Sounds too exciting for an unplanned pregnancy.

"You're pull out game was weak. Guess what I'm pregnant."

Too snappy, rejected.

"Kim Mingyu, you're pregnant, I will be-- wait what no-- I'm pregnant, we're expecting."

You sit down pulling your hair in frustration.

After another hundred million failed rehearsals you sort to say whatever your heart would feel like at the moment in his presence.

But where's Mingyu? You check the clock, it's past his work hours. Maybe he's running late for some reason. It's your third attempt to tell him about your pregnancy and you hope that you'd succeed this time.

Your phone rings and you would never have guessed that your world would come crashing down.

You stand with head your head bowed down the entire time at the funeral hall. The band wrapped around your arm acts as a constant reminder that you're the chief mourner. You don't raise your head, not ready the see the picture that's kept on the board.

The heart attack was so brutal that it claimed the life of your uncle without a chance of revival. When you were informed he was already gone.

No last words, no goodbyes. Now you're left with only his photo and memories. You walk into the room where his body is kept as you've made a special request to let you meet him before he's taken into the coffin.

He's almost unrecognisable as you sit beside the body. Gently caressing his head, you finally let the tears fall.

"You were so eager to meet everyone that you left me alone here.", you sob, "What do I do without you now?"

You caress his cheeks gently, "Whatever I have become it's because of you. Even though I was the reason they died, you took me in and raised me like our own."

"I have something to tell.", your hands place themselves back on his head, "I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a grandparent. Tell mom, dad and aunt that I have grown up. Tell Sejin that he's gonna be an uncle."

You spend some more last moments with your uncle before there's a knock on the door. You quickly wipe the tears and look up to see Mingyu standing at the threshold.

"It's time.", he says solemnly.

You nod and look back at your uncle saying, "Thank you for everything. Have a nice reunion with everyone up there. Forgive me if I have been a bad daughter. Goodbye comrade."

You don't like the pitiful look everyone throws at you. You hate it, it claws on your skin and you feel like throwing up. Running into the washroom, you sit down opening the lid to empty your stomach when you feel your hairs being pulled back in gentle grip.

It's Mingyu, you know even though even without seeing him. He doesn't care about entering a ladies washroom when he has to look for you.

"Here, drink some water.", he uncaps the bottle and offers it to you.

He's presence is somewhat comforting, he makes things bearable. Your uncle is laid beside the rest of your family and you request everyone to be left alone. It's night time when you leave the place only to see Mingyu waiting for you.

There's silence throughout the ride back to home, no words spoken when he makes you eat something he cooked when you were showering, unspoken words when you go back your room and he goes back to his.

You mourn for days and while you do so you take notice of a lot of things.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for that day. I didn't mean anything I said, I was just being an idiot.", Mingyu  says after barging into your room one night because he had enough. He decides he won't let you suffer alone anymore.

You nod your head, "It's okay.", your short and curt reply doesn't settle well with your husband.

"I know one apology isn't enough and I understand if you won't forgive me but please let me be there for you.", he pleads closing the gap and taking your hands within his. His eyes searches for your face and his brows crease when he finds you avoiding eye contact.

You pull back your hands out of his grip, "I can take care of myself, Mingyu."

Your call of name rings oddly in his ear. It's rare for you to call him by name, it's always husband when throwing banter or Gyu while being affectionate.

Affectionate? His mind reels in the moment. Aren't you unexpressive then how could his mind produce that word in your wake?

"I'm tired. Let's call it a night.", you say poised, "There's no need for an apology. Everyone has the right to voice out about anything they don't like."

Mingyu feel like he's not your husband rather an office colleague. Your tone is so formal and dry. Your words cut him like a dagger. He wonders if he has caused damaged beyond repair.

It's so fucked up that he wants to hold you sleep, say sweet nothings to calm your senses but he's afraid to ask you to come back to the master bedroom.

So he lets you bask in your own company. He'll interfere with your personal space for sure one day, hustle in forcefully if you don't let him, no matter how rude and irritating it is, he'll mend the broken bond.

His heart breaks when he notices that you don't look him in the eyes anymore. You always had a strong lively gaze, but they are now hollow. You don't call him when you're struggling to open the jar, you don't ask for him when you can't reach something kept on the top shelf.

His friends are all dejected at how you don't indulge them anymore, they're sad at how they don't get to see you nowadays.

Mingyu had attempted to gauze you out of the coop by inviting the guys to the apartment. But you had locked yourself in the room the whole time.

His parents lament on how he ruined something so beautiful, his sister cries at how you don't communicate with even her nowadays.

He's already going crazy and Sora's pestering him by showing up outside his workplace often or making thousands of phone calls almost everyday, makes him ponder upon how was he even in love with her at some point.

He regrets again, now that he can clearly see the difference. You are you, the actual indifference you're showing is now and it's driving him crazy.

He wants to fix this. He needs to fix both of you because he needs you.

You're in the middle of some paperwork when there's a knock on the cabin door.

Soonyoung enters and the look that you give him is sharp enough to scare him off.

"How have you been doing?"

"Breathing fine, alive."

He should have taken the clue and left but it's Soonyoung and he lives as if he has nine lives.

"We miss you, please stop ghosting us."

"I'm not ghosting anyone."

"Minhee is miserable."

The writing stops, your hand halts for a moment before continuing. Soonyoung knocks on the table demanding your attention on him.

You sigh, having no option but look at him.

"You can be mad at your husband but we didn't do anything, Y/N. I don't even know Mingyu, I'm your friend."

The corner of your lips threaten to curl up. Your heart twinges and you smile sadly, "It's better to be prepared ahead so that you all will get accustomized to it later. Attachments are always painful."

Soonyoung looks at you quizzically, "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing.", you drew yourself back in the papers, "I have a meeting in ten minutes, I need to go over these documents before that."

Soonyoung maybe callous at times but somehow seeing you and hearing your words today makes him bothered.

Another weak passes and you are packing your bags the entire time little by little, unknown to Mingyu because your door is always locked. Your office room is almost empty except for the systems. When Mingyu's not at home, you roam in the bedroom, swaying in the memories you both made there. You lay on the bed, sniffing the pillows because they smell like him.

You crave his touch all the time and him being in your vision doesn't help at all when you could sense the longing in his eyes.

Mingyu doesn't know that you've stolen one of his shirts and a hoodie. He should never find out.

Your soul knows. It tells you that it’s time to distance yourself from those who no longer align with you mentally, emotionally or physically.

"I can't stay here.", you whisper to yourself as you continue to pack rest of the items.

"I'm cursed.", you frantically wipe your tears, "People related to me keep dying."

Your body shakes, eyes producing another batch of fresh tears, "No one should be associated with me. I need to cut everyone out of my life for their sake. Without me, they'd be safe."

You heave a breath, in an attempt to calm yourself, "Mingyu doesn't like me anyways. I'm just a burden. He'll be free once I leave, he can be with Sora.", you rub your chest as it stings, "He'll be happy and that is what I want."

Your gaze instinctively lands on your belly, hands gently rubbing circles, "I promise, even if we won't be together, me and your dad will try our best to raise you. I can't wait to meet you, to hold you."

Mingyu, on the other hand is set on winning you back. He knows you don't like anything extravagant, so he plans to surprise you out a romantic date at home. He's ready to go to the lengths to make you forgive him. He craves your presence, your touch, your shy smiles, the way you call him when you want something from him.

He wants to love you, wants to make love to you. He has been dreaming a lot about starting a family with you. He wants the little versions of you both running around the house. When his friends took the initiative to show him how he has changed and it's for better he knows that it's true. He wonders if all the frustrations were because his heart wasn't ready to seek out the real feelings.

But now he has figured it all out, he likes you, likes you a lot. So he wants this marriage to work out.

He hopes for you to like him back. So who's gonna tell him the truth?

Some free time at work and he's watching new recipes to cook for you. Before going to bed, he's open the phone gallery and goes over your pictures, the pictures which are candid, the ones in which you posed, the best where he's with you in them.

Would you like it, if he throws pebble at your window and serenades you at the middle of the night? Would it be a good idea if goes down on his knees because he hasn't done it before and know he wants to.

Mingyu is all giddy making up scenarios in his head. He wishes to watch them all happen successfully.

"Are you having mood swings?", Jeonghan asks him one day when everyone gathers at the former's home, "Or do you have dissociative identity disorder? You were regretting getting married to her some weeks back and now you're saying that you like her?"

Junhui is grumpy, he takes a look at Mingyu and smacks him hard on his head causing the later to scream out in pain.

"He claims he is the most closest to Y/N and he is grieving because she is not responding to his texts.", Seokmin clarifies and eyes Mingyu in disbelief, "Seriously dude, what's wrong with you? How can you mess up this bad?"

Before Mingyu could speak up, Hansol interjects, "How hard it is to sort out your feelings? How could you even utter such ridiculous things about her when you know how difficult it had been for her, the whole life. Now she even lost her uncle. Imagine listening to your husband yapping about how much he dislikes you when you think he is one you can lean on? And that too instead of voicing out your mind to her first, she heard you telling it to us."

Hansol is a calm man, he never loses his cool except for some situations and this being one of it.

"It's not only me and Jun. Everyone is upset.. I know I'm making it sound bigger, we know that she is your wife, first and our friend, second but we can see that even though she never shows it she cares a lot. I'll tell you no one has ever entertained me constantly to help me, not even you guys. She even suggested me tools that she thought might help me with the editing though she had to invest time on getting to that point. She gifted Jun a diffuser as the previous one was causing him throat irritation but he was too stubborn to discard a newly bought machine."

Seokmin adds up to Hansol, "Didn't she help you with the paperwork late at night even though you both work in an entirely different industry? I'm sorry but did Sora ever do that being in the same line of work? No right. If you would have noticed she has always tried to accomodate herself within us even when it was difficult, it was all new to her."

Mingyu sinks his face into the palm of his hands, as he says regretfully, "I made a huge mistake. I let my intrusive thoughts win and ended up hurting her."

"What if it's too late to fix things?", Soonyoung speaks, his vision dazed as your words from before keeps reeling in his mind, "You should resolve the matters before it's too late."

The following week is hectic for Mingyu. The clients are visiting and everyone has to stay late attending them. It's a whole damn hustle, draining the employees out. The week goes on and out with him spending most of the time in office when all he wants is to go home just to see your face.

It's the last day of the visit and Mingyu thanks the heavens. He's usually patient but now all he wants is to avail the comfort of his home.

It's around one at night but unlike other times the hallway is lit in dim lights flooding  into the dining. There's an eerie silence and something unpleasant awaits.

"Let's get divorced."

When Mingyu came home late at that night to see you awake and waiting for him, there was an uncanny feeling that settled within.

Your hands are crossed, face void of any expression. He almost misses your words. If not for your next words, he would think he's hallucinating.

"We can decide on the terms and clauses, all as per your convenience.", you stress, "I do not expect any trouble from your side."

Mingyu finally registers everything you have said till now and everything hits him all at once.

"W-What are you talking about? Why do you want a divorce all of a sudden?"

Your monotonous tone rather asks him another question, "We have been married for over two years, nearing its third anniversary. Do you really want to be tied in this marriage?"

Though Mingyu thinks he doesn't know you well enough but he knows you enough to catch the wind of your words. He knows its not because of something he had said that day.

A familiar set of papers lying on the table catches his attention. His gaze then turns towards his office room and his suspicion confirms to be correct when he sees the door opened ajar.

"Why did you enter my office? I had clearly warned you about not doing so.", he says in a strict voice.

"That doesn't answer my question.", you say getting up, "Anyways it doesn't matter anymore. I'll get a lawyer, you get one too and proceed with the divorce. Oh, you already have Jeonghan."

As you turn back, you feel your husband's hand wrap around yours.

"How are you so calm? Why are you not asking me anything? Do I really mean nothing to you?", you hear his voice laced in frustration, "We are married for almost three years now and your cool headedness after, I'm assuming, knowing everything makes me aware of the fact that I really don't know you."

You jerk your hand out of his grip and turn back to look at him, "And how is that my fault? Maybe you've never tried to know me.", your voice drops another octave, "You can stop with the doting husband act now that I know the truth."

Mingyu doesn't miss the way your eyes show vulnerability for a moment. Your words strike a chord within him.

"You signed a contract with my uncle in exchange for marrying me.", you chuckle bitterly, "All you wanted was the stocks of the company uncle owned, a goddamn promotion, this house, everything else but me. I was never on the list. I was just a pawn. I don't know what my uncle saw in you to desperately marry me off to you. I hope all of this was worth it. The stocks must have passed down to you smoothly as it can only be acquired by someone working in the company. You can keep this house, keep everything."

"Y/N--"

"I don't wanna hear anything. I was waiting for you to come back so that I could make you aware that you're busted. I'll to go bed."

Mingyu reaches out for you again but you lay out a hand, "Please, I'm tired."

"O-Okay.", Mingyu backs down noticing the resignation in your demeanor, "But we're gonna talk it out tomorrow morning.", he sounds sincere when he says, "I'm sorry. I hope you'll give me a chance to explain everything."

But little does he know, you've already closed the room for any diversions, that you've decided to part ways with the person who has betrayed your trust.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

[sanarsi]

We Have It All

pre/post-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You and Joel were separated by the outbreak. Warnings: angst but with happy ending, mention of killing, use of weapon Wordcount: 3k An: I've always wondered what it would be like to experience the start of the outbreak as someone close to Joel, which is why we are here. Music I worked with: We Have It All - Pim Stones

Masterlist

"My flight got canceled," you sighed, throwing your clothes carelessly into your suitcase. You were furious. All your plans were gone to hell. "I'm sorry, baby."

"You don't have to apologize to me," Joel's amused voice echoed in your ear. You winced, still feeling guilty.

"I know, but I wanted us to spend your birthday together," you said calmly and sat down heavily on the bed. "Sarah and I were supposed to make a cake and humiliate you by singing happy birthday in front of the house." Joel snorted with laughter. You smiled to yourself, anxiously picking at your cuticles.

"Yeah, that sounds awful." You fell silent, staring blankly at the floor. "Babe, it's not the end of the world. We can celebrate my birthday when you get there," he assured you, knowing full well that you felt bad about how the whole situation had turned out. "I won't get any older in a few days," he added with amusement. You snorted quietly.

"I don't know. I recently found one gray hair."

"What?" he asked suddenly concerned.

"I'm joking," you laughed at his reaction. You heard him breathe heavily. "I booked tickets for tomorrow's flight."

"Then we'll pick you up from the airport. Sarah can't wait." In the background you could hear a cheerful screams of a girl. "She misses you," he added, making you feel warm in your heart. Joel always knew how to cheer you up. "I miss you too," he said more quietly, with different emotions. With real longing. You felt something inside you clench.

"Fuck you, Joel. You can't say things like that to me when I'm on the verge of a breakdown," you pointed out, smiling under your breath. His laughter echoed in your ear again.

“Yeah, sorry babe.” You could hear some chatter in the background. After a moment you heard Joel sigh heavily. “We have to go. Sarah’s gonna be late,” he said in his typical tired tone. You nodded even though he couldn’t see it. “I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” You could hear some murmurs in the background. “I love you.”

“Love you, old man.” His snort brought a wider smile to your face.

“Lovely,” he commented, probably rolling his eyes before he hung up.

You pushed your phone away with a quiet sigh. The screen displayed a wallpaper with a picture of the three of you on vacation a few months ago. You smiled at the memories that flooded your head. You looked around the hotel room and then fell back onto the mattress. You cursed the whole world for today, all your plans went to hell.

Today, of the whole fucking year.

Meanwhile, Joel was sitting in the car, looking at a small ring in a navy blue suede box. A few diamonds sparkled in the sunlight. Tommy glanced at his brother with a smirk.

"So when are you going to propose?" he asked, and Sarah's head immediately appeared between their seats.

"I wanted to do it today," he sighed, closing the box and putting it in his pocket. "But as you can see, it'll have to wait."

He glanced at Tommy and his daughter, then rolled his eyes at their stupid smiles.

"What?" he asked when they didn't say anything for a long time.

"Nothing. I'm just happy for you," Tommy replied with a shrug. Joel didn't comment on his words.

"Will she have the same last name as us?" Sarah asked.

"I hope so," Joel agreed, looking out the window.

"Cool. I'll be able to call her my mom," she said happily, and fell back into her seat.

And Joel couldn't help but smile a little at the vision she planted in his head.

In the middle of the night, you were woken up by loud noises. You mumbled in dissatisfaction, turning towards the window. You winced when you saw any lights. After a moment, you heard an explosion. You woke up immediately, throwing the blanket aside and went to the window.

A few blocks away, you could see that one of the buildings was on fire. You watched it calmly until another explosion engulfed another skyscraper, this time closer to your hotel. The silence was drowned out by car alarms and people's screams.

Your first thought was a terrorist attack.

You felt a surge of stress, observing everything from a distance. The loud sound of several fighter jets cut through the sky, catching your attention. And then the first shot came.

You watched in horror as more buildings in the city center burst into flames. You swallowed hard, tightening your fingers on the curtain. And then the loud sound of the phone ringing echoed through the room.

You almost jumped on the spot, turning towards the bed. The screen lit up the dark room. You quickly answered the call, seeing Joel's photo.

"Hello?" you spoke, swallowing the lump in your throat. Someone's curses and murmurs could be heard on the other end.

"Hello? Baby, are you okay?" Joel's breathless voice rang out in your ear. You immediately looked towards the window and felt your pulse quicken.

"Y-yes, I'm okay. Joel, what's going on?" you asked, looking out at the city. Another explosion. You flinched, looking towards the building that was in flames. Just a few dozen meters away. A quiet curse sounded on the phone. "Joel?" you spoke uncertainly.

"We don't know. There's a lot of soldiers everywhere. They've blocked the highways."

With each word he spoke, you felt more and more panic.

Another thought was war.

"They say it's some kind of virus. People are going crazy and attacking each other like animals."

You looked down at the street where people were running. Screams mixed with the howl of sirens. Your breath trembled as you moved away from the window.

“Joel, I’m scared,” were the first words you said after realizing how bad things were. If it was happening here and in Texas, then it was everywhere.

And you were alone on the other side of the country.

“Listen to me,” he began calmly. You began to breathe deeply to control your growing fear. “Grab the most necessary things. Get in the car and drive out of town on the side roads. You need to get out of the city center, do you understand?” he explained slowly so you could understand every word. You mumbled something in confirmation. “Baby, I need you to take a few deep breaths and do as I said. You need to get out of town. As soon as possible.”

"Okay," you said, feeling your stomach tighten painfully. You looked around the room in panic and then another explosion occurred. That's when you shook yourself. You quickly moved towards your suitcase and started putting on your clothes.

"Stay off the country roads," he continued explaining as you put on your sneakers. You went to your locker and threw everything into your bag in one move.

"Okay," you nodded, grabbing your car keys. You left the hotel room and looked around the hallway until you saw a sign for an emergency exit. You quickly headed in that direction.

"Tommy and I are going for Sarah."

"What?" you stopped, frowning. "She's not with you?" Silence fell on the other end. You looked at your phone to check the time. It was the middle of the night and Sarah was home alone. How on earth?

"I had to get Tommy out of the arrest," he finally spoke. You closed your eyes, sighing heavily.

Of course it was always about Tommy.

You shook your head and headed down the stairs. You had to get to the underground parking lot. You ran out the door, looking around. It was quiet here. You quickly got into your car and looked around like it was your first time driving. After a few tries and a few panicked curses, you finally got the key in the ignition and screeched to the exit.

You looked around the street before you pulled out onto the road and turned on the navigation. You looked around nervously in every possible direction as you started driving through different housing estates.

"I should be leaving the city in a few minutes," you said, driving more carefully than usual. The further you got from the center, the quieter it was. Fewer and fewer police sirens and people.

"Okay, baby, listen," he started slowly. "Head toward Kansas."

"Okay," you nodded, swallowing hard.

"We'll meet exactly halfway, yeah?"

"Okay," you nodded again, feeling your voice start to shake.

"I will find you," he assured you. He wanted to sound confident. He wanted you to feel safe because of him. But his voice trembled as well.

"Okay," you said again, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

"I will find you, I promise," he repeated. You nodded, feeling tears start to flow down your cheeks. You pressed your lips together to hold back a sob. "I lo-"

Silence.

You looked at your phone in panic.

"Joel?" you said, but no one answered you.

You felt panic shake your body. You began to breathe quickly, trying to fight off more and more tears.

It wasn't until you passed the sign informing you to leave the city that you felt adrenaline take over your body. You rubbed your wet cheeks and took a few deep breaths.

"You will be fine," you said confidently and pressed the gas pedal, leaving the burning city behind you.

One year later.

You looked at the map again and cursed under your breath, looking around.

Everywhere fucking forests and fields.

With a sigh, you put the map in your backpack and slowly set off through the tall grass. There was silence all around. The wind gently moved the treetops and the birds sang merrily. Nothing had changed here. Nature continued to live as if nothing had changed at all.

But everything had changed.

The world had stopped and started to fall apart.

At least for those who had managed to survive.

You were one of those people.

You had been fighting to survive for a year. Starving, fighting and killing. Who would have expected that? If someone had told you a year ago what you would become, you would have thought they were mentally ill.

And yet, you were where you were. Which was currently in the middle of fucking nowhere.

After a few hours, you were sitting by a small stream, filling a bottle with cold water. As usual, you took the opportunity to wash your body of dirt. If you could even call it that. At least you didn't feel everything sticking to your skin so you considered it as a success.

You sat leaning against a tree, looking at the map, waiting for the fire to fry the fish you had caught sufficiently. You traced the path you had to take to cross the Missouri-Kansas border with your finger.

You still had a long way to go. But you had already come a lot further. You were getting closer to the goal that had kept you alive for a year.

You knew Joel was alive. You could feel it in your bones.

Joel was a tough motherfucker.

He certainly wouldn't let himself be killed and he was on his way to Kansas.

If he wasn't already waiting for you there.

That's what you hoped.

The next few days passed on a lonely journey. Your legs hurt terribly, but you had gotten used to it. You had gotten used to many things. But it probably took you the longest to get used to the smell.

Another sunset was approaching as you slowly walked along the dirt road kicking a small stone. The sky turned orange as you left the road and headed towards the forest. You had learned that it was safest to sleep in trees. Even though you hadn't seen a living soul in weeks, you were always prepared. No one ever looked up when looking for potential threats. So when you found a suitable thick tree, you began preparing ropes.

You were concentrating on tying knots when suddenly the sound of a branch breaking echoed through the forest. You looked around but didn't see anything that caught your attention.

Despite everything, you slowly and quietly lifted your backpack from the ground. You put the ropes away looking around for threats.

And then you heard another crack of branches.

Your senses sharpened and adrenaline hit you like a bolt of lightning. You slung your backpack over your shoulders and pulled your gun from your belt.

You slowly and carefully took steps not making a sound and hid under a group of trees. And you waited. For some time, all you heard was your calm breathing and the last birdsongs. You began to wonder if you had accidentally run into a deer or some other animal, but then you heard the next branches breaking under someone's weight. You immediately recognized the male footsteps.

Wary and heavy.

You slowly uncocked the gun and looked out through the gap between the trunks. You saw movement. A few dozen meters away from you. And unfortunately for you, he was walking in your direction.

You cursed in your mind at your luck and took a few deep breaths.

Another rustle of dry leaves getting closer to you. You tightened your grip on the gun and listened.

The snapping of branches. You glanced one last time through the gap in the trees to determine how far he was. He was definitely too close.

One last deep breath before you emerged from your hiding place.

“Stop and drop your weapon,” you said sharply, aiming it straight at the man in front of you. But you weren’t the only one prepared. You both stood, aiming your weapons at each other. You both had each other perfectly in your sights. And you were both alone.

"I just want to get to Kansas," he said in a hoarse, loud voice.

"Then you got your sides mixed up," you replied, keeping him carefully in your sights. To your detriment, the setting sun and the fog didn't help.

"What?" he was surprised, slightly taken aback.

"Kansas is the other way," you explained, frowning when you noticed he lowered his gun slightly. "No tricks. Throw the gun in my direction and take a few steps back," you ordered, carefully watching his every move. For a moment, there was complete silence. His hands finally fell loosely along his body.

"Fuck. Baby?" he said in a completely different tone. You frowned, lowering the gun when you heard a familiar voice. A gentle wind stirred the fog, giving you a better view of the man a dozen meters in front of you.

"Joel," you whispered in shock, the gun falling from your hand. Your heart stopped for a moment only to start beating like crazy when you saw his look of relief.

"Fuck," he cursed with a trembling voice before he confidently took a step towards you. And you started running.

You threw yourself into his arms, hugging his neck tightly. His arms wrapped around you so tightly you could barely catch your breath. You sobbed with happiness feeling your body overcome with relief. How his arms finally brought you the desired safety. Joel groaned, burying his face in your neck.

Tears of happiness welled up in your eyes as you finally held him in your arms. Alive. Healthy.

You tangled your fingers in his hair pulling him even closer starting to laugh with happiness. His fingers dug painfully into your skin as he pressed you closer to his chest. The amount of relief he felt holding you in his arms was indescribable. Like a huge weight from his shoulders fell apart in a second finally allowing him to breathe.

"I knew I'd find you" he whispered almost moaning with happiness.

You could barely see through your tears as he pulled you away, taking your face in his hands. He looked at you closely. Same eyes, same smile, and a few more scars. Other than that, nothing had changed.

He sighed in relief, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. You wrapped your arms around his wrists, letting out a shaky breath that disappeared a moment later into his mouth as he pressed them tightly against yours.

He immediately deepened the kiss, kissing you with everything he had in him. Longing, relief, pain and love. It wasn't a gentle kiss, but the best you've ever had in your life.

His lips tasted like home.

And that kiss was a promise that you'd never be alone again.

He finally pulled away and pulled you to his chest. He tangled his fingers in your hair and rested his cheek on your head. You snuggled into his chest, closing your eyes.

"I was so fucking scared," he whispered, hugging you tighter and planting a strong kiss on the top of your head. "I was so fucking scared you'd die," he stroked your back and a few tears ran down his cheeks, soaking into your hair. You sobbed, burying your face in his chest.

His fingers stroked your hair soothingly.

"Shhh," he whispered, placing kisses on your head.

You were in his arms.

Safe and sound.

After a year of separation, you were finally safe.

"Everything will be fine now," he assured you, believing in his own words like never before. "I will take care of you."

[sugusearrings]

( ' summertime sadness ' ) oh my god, i feel it in the air telephone wires above are sizzlin' like a snare honey, i'm on fire, i feel it everywhere nothing scares me anymore. kiss me hard before you go summertime sadness i just wanted you to know, that, baby, you the best.

— summary: it's been a hard summer for suguru geto to adjust and deal with his emotions. while his best friend satoru gojo has been on a lot of solo missions lately, he's been spending a lot of time with you (fem!reader). — genre: smut ending with fluff — playing: summertime sadness by lana del rey — note(s): this is my first writing smut in a real long time. it won't be my last but i'm sorry if it wasn't spicy enough. i'm kind of rusty i sorry :( hints of virginity lost but not necessarily. — word count: 3k

— warnings: vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving ), missionary, doggy, mating press, cumshot, squirting, and finger sucking

Maybe it was the heat wave.

Maybe it was the curse he digested not too long ago.

But Suguru was throwing up more than he usually does.

His eyes closed tightly as he felt everything come rushing out of his mouth to pour into the toilet bowl. Even when there was nothing left in his stomach to puke, his body kept going.

But you were behind him holding onto his dark silky locks so they wouldn’t get in the way or inside of the murky water. Despite him being in the middle of throwing up his insides, he was embarrassed to do this in front of you.

“It’s okay, Sugu..” you reassured him like you knew what he was thinking of. You rubbed his back gently with your free hand. His eyes glanced over his shoulder to you, he saw the small smile on your lips. He looked over back to the toilet seeing everything he’s eaten today. Maybe even yesterday too.

When he was finished, you reached over to flush it down. You went to get him a bottle of water while he washed his face. His face was flushed and hot. His throat was aching along with his stomach feeling hollow.

After drying it away with the spare wash cloth you had just for him, he took his extra toothbrush you bought him. As he brushed his teeth his amethyst color hues stared back at him. The lack of sleep was catching up to him. His dark circles were so noticeable these days. He knew you must have noticed them too. But you didn’t say anything, you have some of your own if you didn’t cover yours with makeup.

Your dorm had the biggest windows and nobody knew exactly why. But it came handy when it was the summer. Winter not so much. Suguru sat on the windowsill with the window wide open. There was barely a breeze and when there was one, it was a warm one.

He had a cigarette in the middle of his lips. It was quiet today. Satoru must still be away on his mission. He wasn’t exactly sure where Shoko was. So that just left you and him. It’s been like that for the past few weeks.

He could hear your gentle voice singing softly as you showered. As much as you whined about the brutal cold, you hated the warm weather. You didn’t like to sweat. Suguru couldn’t blame you for that. The smoke slowly blew out of Suguru’s thin lips as he just zoned out.

“Shoko’s bad habit is rubbing off on you.”

His eyes averted to you once he heard your voice. You wore an oversized shirt (his shirt that went missing a week ago) with nothing but your nude panties underneath. When you stretched the shirt rode up exposing the fabric that barely covered your rear. He couldn’t help but to stare. The amount of time you two spent together comfortability was formed. There was times you would change clothes in front of him and he would do the same. You never caught him staring but that’s because he knew how not to get caught.

“You see a flaw in Shoko?” Suguru teased you then took another pull. You smiled to yourself, placing your dirty uniform in the hamper.

“Cigarettes don't have a better taste, y’know?” You reminded him. He knew you were concerned about his health. You were always concerned about him. Suguru was hard to read for others but when it came to you. It was like you saw what he was thinking like it was written on his forehead. Suguru swore you had some kind of unique curse technique but you just reassured him you’re very observant. He still doesn’t believe that till this day.

“You don’t know what those curses taste like.”

Suguru put out the cigarette then flicked it away. He took his bottle of water.

“True but I could tell they’re bitter.”

You sat down on the edge of your bed. Your hair was still damp from the shower reaching past your shoulders now. He noticed how fast it was growing. He also noticed the dark circles of your own now. It wasn’t as dark as his but close enough. You looked so much younger without the makeup. He didn’t mind either but you not wearing makeup might be his favorite.

“What gave you that clue?”

He tilted his head to the side with a sly smirk. You both chuckled at the same time. A comfortable silence came afterwards. The breeze was cool now thanks to your shower. You glanced down at your bare feet.

“So they don’t come in different flavors?”

“Why the sudden interest in this again?”

Suguru never really recalled you or anyone really asking him about the taste. You shrugged your shoulders crossing your legs over the other. His eyes sneaked down to look at your bare legs. He could tell without even touching them they were so smooth. He quickly looked back up at you before you noticed.

“I’m just asking, Sug. I just wish,” you let out a soft sigh, “I just wish I knew how to consume them so you wouldn’t have too.”

A light blush crept on Suguru’s cheeks.

“Name…even if you could, I wouldn’t let you.” He smiled. “But thank you.”

“Anytime.” You smiled back. You laid back on the bed and closed your eyes. The heat started to slowly kick in. By the end of the night you knew you were going to take another shower.

“I bet your flavor is sweet.”

Suguru’s honey-like voice broke your thoughts. Your body shot up, feeling your eyes widened. Then you looked across to your friend who hasn’t moved from his spot. You blinked a few times before clearing your throat.

“H-huh?”

“You’ve been eating a lot of fruit lately. Especially cherries.” He told you nonchalantly with a shrug. You bit down on your bottom lip feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. You thought about the times you would eat your cherries after training because you would get hungry. You didn’t want a big meal to sit in your stomach plus cherries were in season.

Suguru would watch you bite down into the dark red fruit being careful not to bite into the seed. You would suck the remains on the seed before you placed them back into your container not wanting to throw them onto the ground. Your lips would a faint red after eating them all.

“T-they’re my favorite.” You mumbled shyly shifting a bit in your seat now. Suguru chuckled lightly.

“Am I making you nervous, name?”

“N-No!” You quickly answered. He let out a laugh, you haven’t heard him laugh like that in weeks. You didn't realize how much you missed the sound of his beautiful laughter.

“You’re lying.”

“Am not.”

“You think you’re the only one who can be observant?” He countered. You part your lips but close them making a thin line. He smirked knowing he used your own words against you.

Sure Suguru would flirt with you but so would Satoru. It didn’t mean anything, right?

But Suguru didn’t speak to Shoko like that and Satoru was just a natural flirt. You slowly shook your head. Suguru stood up from the windowsill. “You’re right, name. Cigarettes don’t taste any better. But I don’t have anything to replace it”

He was walking towards you now. Your breathing picked up but couldn’t be heard. His cat-like eyes stared at you like you were his prey caught in the corner. “I am very convinced you can help me with that.” He stood in front of you. You bit down on your bottom lip.

“H-how can I do that?” You asked nervously. Suguru smiled at your curiosity.

“Easy,” he sat down next to you to move your hair behind your ear to lean close, “let me taste you.” he whispered in a husky tone. You stiffened up with your face completely flushed and it wasn’t because of the heat. You both just stared at each other for a few moments.

Maybe it was the heat wave or the curse he just ate

Or maybe he was tired of hiding these urges he had whenever you would come around.

The way your skirt would flow when you would run or jump to block attacks. The way you stared up at him with your doe eyes. The way you would brush against him so close he could smell your perfume you would spray on the side of your neck.

But Suguru needed to taste you.

Suguru was down on his knees in front of the edge of the bed. Your leg was draped on his shoulders. Your panties were already on the floor completely forgotten. His eyes were half closed not wanting to miss the pleasure on your face as his tongue swirled inside your gummy walls. His tongue would creep and twirl around your swollen clit. You did your best to keep your moans down, not wanting to be loud. But Suguru was making it so hard.

"F…uck…S-ugu…mmf!” You muffled underneath your hand to contain your volume. Your toes curled behind his shoulders. Suguru wasn’t shy to make any noise. You could hear his tongue moving against your wet core. Whenever you tried to squirm, he would use his hands that were placed on your thigh to give you a tight squeeze as a warning.

He pulled his mouth away and replaced them with his two forefingers. He dragged them slowly up and down your wet slit.

“Just like I said, sweet.” His sultry voice spoke to you. You looked down to meet his gaze. His lips glistened from your wetness and his saliva. He had a smirk. He saw you try to shy away breaking the eye contact you two were sharing. He found it so cute.

“Don’t act all shy now, pretty girl. We’re only getting started.” He slowly pushed his two fingers at once. You could feel the pressure of your wells stretching for his long thick fingers. “You’re so tight, baby.” He groaned, pressing his tongue back inside of you. He was always good at mulit-tasking.

Suguru felt himself feeling a natural high. Maybe it was the heat that spiked this feeling but he was sure it was your pussy. The leftover taste of the curse completely washed away by your juices overflowing his taste buds. Your clit was throbbing against his thumb. You started to feel your lower abdomen tightening now.

“S-Suguru! Please!” You cried out reaching down to grab some of his dark hair. He made loud slurping and sucking sounds. He moaned against you to give vibrations like a tease. He pushed your thighs open as wide as they can be. He glanced up then back down at your pretty puffy lips. He pumped his fingers in and out at a fast pace. Your legs began to fidget.

“Are you going to cum, my pretty girl?” He taunted you. You nodded your head feeling your hips move on their own against his fingers.

“S-so…so bad I-I wanna cum.”

“What’s stopping you?” he smiled.

That’s when you finally lost it and gave in. You loosened your lower body into the pressure. Suguru flattened his tongue feeling a gush of your juices coming down. He moaned how much it was and how sweet it tasted. He didn’t want to waste not one drop. Even on his fingers he sucked down on them. He turned to you laying on your back, trying to gain composure. Your lower body was exposed but you still had his shirt on. He felt the warm breeze brushed against the back of his neck.

He forgot about the window that was still open.

“Take it off.”

He told you as he went back to close the window then pulled the curtains. As much as he didn’t care, he didn’t want someone to see the way you make those cute faces when you receive pleasure. That’s for his eyes only. You slowly sat up feeling your legs stiff and weak. The room was dark now the curtain was closed. He looked over at you still with his shirt on. “You really don’t like to listen do you, hm?”

“I-I -”

He walked back over to you. He started to pull the bottom of the shirt over your body. Your arms automatically rose to help him remove the last bit of clothing you had left. It wasn’t too dark in your room. He could still see your breasts bounce back into place on your chest. He smiled.

“Such a pretty girl.” he purred. He removed his regular white shirt along with his loose joggers. You swallowed and moved to the middle of the bed. Your eyes gazed down at him slipping out of his boxers. He sprung free and you nearly choked. You couldn’t get over how he was just perfect everywhere.

His cock just thick and long. He had a few perfect veins, one vein going up to his tip that was already leaking of pre-cum. Suguru noticed you staring and chuckled lightly.

“We’ll make it fit, pretty girl. I promise.”

“H-how?” You blurted out leaning back on the few pillows you had on your bed.

“I have some kind of experience.” His larger frame hovered over you. You raised your bright brow.

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

It shouldn’t have bothered you but it was more of a bit of this new found jealousy. This new feeling. Or maybe you always felt like this and just repressed it. Like that one time you overheard Suguru speaking with Mei Mei. Of course she was flirting with him but he also flirted back. You felt some kind of tightening in your chest. You gave him a whole silent treatment for the rest of the day. He was so clueless why you did. He did apologize.

Suguru could see your puzzled face. He leaned down to press his lips against your own. Your stupid thoughts were pushed to the side once the kiss began to heat up. His tongue claimed dominance you knew you couldn’t fight for. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your tongues massaged against each other.

He aligned himself a bit since he was so much taller than you.

“There’ll be some discomfort.” He mumbled against your lips. You rolled your eyes as you pulled away to scoff.

“I’ve been stabbed and thrown out of a building how many times?”

“Not many because Satoru and I were always there to -”

“Suguru.” You cut him off with a glare. He laughed and gave you another kiss.

He dragged his tip up and down your slit. You let out a shaky breath already making a mess just with that alone. Suguru took note and smirked. “I didn’t even do anything and you’re already a wet mess, pretty girl.” He purred.

“S-shut up and fuck me…” you breathed out. He was amused how eager you were starting to become.

“Hmm…you could say it a lot nicer, name.”

“Suguru I swear I –”

He pushed his tip against you. You gasped then your doe eyes widened. You gazed up at him. He studied your face before pushing further. A strong pressure was being pressed against you. Suguru sucked in a harsh breath. “I need you to relax, name. Be a good girl for me.”

It was like his voice put you under a spell.

You nodded slowly and tried your best to ease your body. He kissed along your neck and shoulder. You felt his hair brushing against your heated cheek. You bit your lip trying to contain a moan from coming out. He nibbled down on your collar bone then began to suck down on it. After he was done he went to breasts and sucked down on your nipple. His tongue swirled around it slowly with his eyes staring up at you.

After a few moments, Suguru pushed the tip inside of you. Another shaky breath escaped your lips.

“You’re doing a good job, baby. Just like that…” he whispered into the crook of your neck. It didn’t take long till he was able to push more of his thick grith inside of your tight core. You felt a sharp discomfort like Suguru warned you. He stood still so your tight warms could adjust for his cock. “You’re okay baby?” You mumbled a mhm and gave him a nod.

This definitely wasn’t like being stabbed or thrown out of a building.

He strokes your cheek and admires your facial features. You were used to him staring at you but not too closely. You tried your best not to break eye contact. But even in the slight darkness, he could see how your cheeks darken. You look beautiful as ever to him.

“Y-you can move, Sugu…” you whispered.

“Are you sure?”

You nod. He gave you another kiss then he began to thrust his hips slowly. The slight discomfort came back but the pleasure started to mask over the pain. You began to pant heavily when Suguru picked up his pace. You were moaning and whining with the movement of your hips trying to follow his rhythm. The jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine.

Since the curtains were closed the room’s temperature began to rise. A light form of sweat formed on your forehead making your hair press against it. Suguru could feel a thin layer of sweat on his back.

“Mmm…fuck…this pussy is so good to me.” He moaned into your ear. His moan alone made you become a sloppier mess. He was able to push deeper inside of your gummy walls. Your walls expand for his cock hitting your spot over and over.

“Suguru…a-ahhh..”

He rolled his hips then began to pound into you. Your nails raked down his lower back then clung into your skin feeling your back being pressed into the mattress. The headboard was banging into the wall behind it. Thankfully you’re not next to anyone.

“Suguru!” You screamed out. Suguru smirked. Sure he didn’t want to get caught but hearing you yell his name out, he was willing to take the risk.

“Squeeze me, name. That’s it. Good girl. Your pretty pussy is hugging my cock so tight.”

“I-I…y-you…Sugu” You couldn’t even form a sentence being a rambling mess at this point. Cock drunk for the first time. Your vision was blurry with tears of pleasure but you could see Suguru’s beautiful face flushed. Your hand reached behind to hold onto the headboard. But he snatched it away and laced your fingers together.

“You’re mine, you hear me, name? All mine.” He breathed into your neck before he licked up your pulse. You nodded rapidly.

“A-all yours, Sugu…” you babbled, feeling his lips leave kisses on your chest down to your neck again. He loved to hear you become so vulnerable to him. "Forgot how to use your words, pretty girl? I thought you were a smart girl." He chuckled pushing your thighs to your chest and your legs against the headboard. You held your breath feeling him slide deeper you swore you could feel him in your guts. "Well look at that, you're completely stuff with me now." His eyes stared down watching your pussy engulfing him whole. He could see himself twitch inside of her. "S-Sugu...p-please..." you whined just aching for him. His eyes moved to your face. He smirked seeing how desperate you were for him. Your eyes barely open and cheeks darkening from the temperature of the room. He started to pound into you feeling every inch of him in this new position. "F-Fuck! Ngh!" You cried out not able to move with him pressing your thighs down on your chest with his board chest against your legs. He was heavily panting onto your face. He pressed his forehead against yours then leaned in for a kiss. It was a sloppy kiss but it made it easier for him to just go as deep as he wanted. You both could hear how wet you were with the loud sounds your pussy made with each time he pounded into you.

He suddenly pulled out of you completely.

You backed away from the kiss, confused and whiny.

“Suguru..” you whined out in the dark.

“Don’t be a brat now, princess,” he chuckled, then moved your body so you can be lying on your stomach, “I think you can handle me like this now, hm?”

His voice was so taunting and sexy at the same time. He could have made you do whatever he wanted. You nodded your head.

“Y-yes! Please just…need your cock back inside of me.”

Your hips moved eagerly. He reached over to grab a pillow and lifted your lower body to put your pillow underneath you.

“Arch your back…such a good girl. Look at you taking orders now.” He placed his hand on the fat of your ass. He lifted it up to see your swollen puffy folds, dripping to your inner thighs. He smiled admiring you. “I can’t believe you were hiding this from me. I’ll remember that for punishment later on.”

Your eyes widen and a faint blush crept on your cheeks.

“Geto…”

“Oh. You’re addressing me like that?”

He placed a smack on your ass cheek. You whined and buried your face back into the pillow, closing your eyes tightly. He squeezed and massaged the fat of your ass before he greeted your slit with his tongue again. Your lips part to let out a faint moan, moving your hips back to him.

Suguru removed his tongue to replace it with his cock. He pushed back into you hearing a small wince for you. He started to slam his hips into your ass. Your walls clench around him, squeezing him tighter than before. One hand tightened on your hip then the other was placed on the back of your neck and squeezed. Your face being pushed into the pillow.

“Fuuuuuck. Name, n-name….”

You nearly came just hearing the way he moaned your name. Suguru felt his cock throbbing. You were babbling, slight drool coming from the corner of your mouth. Tears from the corner of your eyes going down your flushed cheeks. You came for the third time before Suguru gave you one last harsh thrust and release his warm load into you.

Your heavy panting and breathing matched with his. He slowly pulled out watching his load leaking out of you now. He took two of his fingers and coated them with it. He brought them to your lips.

“Suck.”

You lazily leaned over to place your mouth over his fingers and do what you were told. When you finished, he moved your hair out of your face. He leaned down to kiss you and your shoulder over the marks he left.

He wondered how noticeable they were going to be. Suguru got up and went to get your wash cloth then came back to clean you up. After placing the washcloth in the hamper, he laid next to you in the stuffy room rubbing your back. You couldn’t keep your eyes open and went to sleep instantly. He chuckled, kissing your lips then got up to shower.

Suguru felt better after the cool shower he had. He placed your blanket over your naked body as you snored quietly. He grabbed his stolen shirt that was thrown onto the floor and put it on.

He walked over to the window to open the curtain half way. He was greeted by the cool breeze.

He sat on the windowsill and went to light another cigarette but he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Hey! Name! Have you seen Suguru? He hasn’t been answering my calls or texts!” Satoru’s voice was heard behind the door as he kept knocking.

Suguru gazed over to you then got up to answer the door. He opened the door enough for him to see Suguru but not enough to see you. Satoru was surprised Suguru answered the door. His eyes were slightly larger but a grin formed on his lips.

“Speak of the devil himself.”

“Didn’t expect you back so soon, Satoru.” Suguru smiled back. Satoru scoffed at his best friend .

“Only the weak would struggle with that kind of mission. Speaking of, where’s name?”

Suguru made a mental note of how often Satoru would come to your room. Alone.

“She’s asleep. The heat made her a bit fatigued.” He answered. Satoru nodded.

“It is fucking hot today.” He began to unbutton a few buttons on his uniform shirt. That’s when his eyes lowered down to Suguru.

“Hey! Suguru, you found your shirt! Where was it?”

“Name stole it.”

Suguru smiled softly. A smile he hasn't had in weeks.

[megameatymatt]

TW !! can you do matt comforting reader after her panic attack ? 🎀

Overwhelmed - Matt Sturniolo

TW!: fighting, crying, swearing, panic attack, angst, fluff

A/N: feedback and requests are appreciated!

You walk into your apartment, kicking off your shoes and plopping onto your bed, tears forming in your eyes. You pick up your phone to call Matt, no answer. You try again, no answer. This usually wouldn't have bothered you, but you and Matt had planned this night together days prior. The both of you have been so busy and stressed you haven’t had time to see each other. You were on the verge of tears the entire day. The only thing that got you through it was knowing you would get to curl up in Matt’s arms. He made you feel safe

You try texting him, asking when he's gonna be here

*read at 10:35pm*

You feel your heartache. “Is he mad?”, “Maybe he’s just busy”, “what did I do?” You start to overthink, thoughts filling up to the brink of your mind.

 You didn't want to let this bother you, maybe he's filming. You stumble onto your feet and into the bathroom. You look in the mirror, and puffy red eyes stare back at you. You let out a deep sigh before soaking in a hot bath and then putting on your pyjamas. As you walk into your living room, you hear a familiar knock at the door. Your eyes light up and you rush over to unlock it. “Matt!” you squeal, leaping into his arms. 

He smiles looking down at you, You lift your head off his chest to look at him “Why the fuck did you leave me on read?” you say faking an angry tone. “I was busy,” he says, brushing past you to take off his shoes. You furrow your eyebrows and walk into the kitchen locking the door behind you.

“You didn’t bring any snacks? You always bring snacks on movie night...” you tell him, a little disappointed “ God, Y/N. When did you become such a big fucking baby? Always whining about everything” His words spill out his mouth laced with anger.

 It feels like you’ve been stabbed in your stomach. The last thing you needed today was someone yelling at you, and out of everyone, it had to be the person you loved the most.

“I'm sorry Matt, I-” you start trembling, your vision blurry “Now you’re fucking crying, oh my gosh Y/N. Grow the fuck up, not everything's gonna go- ” He stops.

he watches you grip the counter, hands shaking, tears streaming down your face. He immediately walks over to you, getting you to sit on the floor as he holds you in his arms. 

You can’t even explain what’s happening. Your head is spinning, you can barely breathe, and your hands are shaky and sweaty. You're so overwhelmed by all the emotion you're feeling, you're convinced you're gonna pass out. Then you hear Matt’s voice. “Hey baby, look at me, listen to me” Somehow, your eyes manage to find his. 

This has happened before but never this bad, this was new.  “Breathe for me. In and out, slowly okay?” He breathes in and out with you, holding your hand the entire time. You take many shaky breaths letting out a sob between each one, before slowly calming down. You look away from him, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Hey, are you okay baby? You alright now?” He says running his fingers through your hair as you lay in his lap. “I'm fine Matt,” you say, letting go of his hand. He quickly takes your hand back, holding it tighter. 

“I’m so fucking sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean any of it, you know that. I would never say that to you I'm such a fucking idiot.” You stare at him, his eyes glistening. “You didn’t deserve that, I've just been so stressed and tired lately. But I know you’ve been hurting too. I shouldn’t have let my emotions get a hold of me like that.” He’s crying now, tears staining his cheeks. “I love you Y/N, I hope you know that”. You smile, moving the hair from his face. “I love you too Matt. I'm sorry for stressing you out like that, it was wrong”He kisses your forehead before lifting you up and dropping you on the couch, peppering your face with more kisses. You squeal with joy and he laughs before sitting beside you and taking out his phone. “Pick a movie, I'll order some pizza,” he says, handing you the TV remote. You take it and snuggle up next to him. “I'm still mad about the snacks”  He rolls his eyes and laughs. You feel warmth grow in your cheeks, your head no longer pounding. You're not stressed, angry, or overwhelmed with Matt by your side.

[wcbblife]

can you take a request for Kate Martin (or Paige B.) x reader when KM/PB is stress for a upcoming game and she yells at the reader out of frustration but make it up to the reader after?

Hurt/comfort

Take your time and take care 💐✨️❤️

Back to us

a/n: sorry for the delay. the story isn't long. something short and sweet.

warning(s): Paige and reader have a fight.

Time Skip: Second Round of the NCAA Championship 2024-2025 Season

Having to be the heart of her team sometimes proved to be quite challenging for Paige. It had gotten easier to handle with the pressure over time, but the nausea that settled in her chest never seemed to leave her any space for peace whenever big games came around. She had gotten better at hiding how much it affected her, but the one person that she couldn't fool was you.

You walked through the endless maze of hallways in the stadium, trying to find the blonde. Geno had asked you to go about and search for her, finding it unacceptable that she was running late to warmups. After a bit of searching, you knew to look in a particular locker room, knowing that Paige found its silence a bit peaceful.

You find Paige in the empty room, her back turned to you as she stares intently at a locker right in front of her. She seems tense, her shoulders rigid, knees bouncing up and down.

Sensing something is obviously wrong, you decide to approach her. "Paige, are you okay?" you ask gently, trying to break through her concentration.

She doesn't turn to face you, her voice tight with frustration. "Yeah, just… trying to get my head in the game.”

You take a step closer, concern etched on your face. "You've been… really stressed lately. I just wanted to check on you. Maybe we could talk about what's bothering you before you go out?"

Paige finally turns to you, her eyes flashing with irritation. "There's nothing to talk about. I just need to focus. If I lose here, that’s it.”

You sigh, not wanting to back down. "Paige, bottling it all up isn't helping you. Clearly. You can talk to me. I want to be here for you." It wasn’t meant to be anything bad, you just wanted to ease her nerves before such a big game like this. Her last game at Uconn.

She shakes her head, turning back to her locker. "I don't need this right now. I need to concentrate."

"Paige," you insist, walking even closer, "I'm just saying that—"

“Gosh, just leave me the fuck alone!” Paige suddenly slams her palm against the locker, causing a loud bang to echo through the room. You flinch, staggering back as she whirls around to face you, her eyes wide with frustration. “I’m about to have one of the most important games of my life, and you’re on my ass about everything!”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, feeling a lump starting to form on your throat. “Paige, I’m not trying to make things harder for you. I just wanted to help. Calm down and breathe—”

She backs away, still fuming. "You think a deep breath is going to fix everything? I need to be perfect, and I can't do that if I'm stressed the fuck out. Sometimes, it feels like you're just another thing I have to manage!" Tears start to well up in your eyes as her words cut unexpectedly deep. You try to blink them away before they fall, but Paige scoffs when she notices. "Great, now you're crying? I really don't have time for this."

You take a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re a fucking asshole. I was just trying to help you.”

There's a flicker of something in her gaze—regret, perhaps—but she quickly looks away. "I can't deal with this right now. I can't deal with you crying and making me feel worse."

You shake your head, tears dinally streaming down your face. "Maybe I should just leave then."

Paige doesn't respond immediately, her jaw clenched as she struggles with her emotions. Finally, she lets out a frustrated sigh, her voice low and strained. "Maybe you should."

You turn your back towards her as you choke out, “Good luck, Paige.”

The arena had emptied, the echo of cheering fans replaced by the muffled sounds of the cleaning crew. Paige sat on the bench, staring at her phone, hoping for a text from you. She had been on edge all night, and her outburst before the game was finally replaying in her mind, torturing her as she tried to get by the questions the media had for her. The tension in her muscles had dissipated, replaced by a gnawing guilt.

She checked her phone again. No messages. No calls.

Paige headed to the locker room. As she passed by the seats, she realized the usual spot you sit at was empty. Her heart sank. You hadn’t even stayed for the game.

“Of course she didn’t you idiot.” Paige massaged her temples, whispering to herself.

Without bothering to change out of her jersey, Paige grabbed her bag and rushed to the dorms. Her steps quickened with each stride, eager to just see you.

Paige knocked on your door, her heart nearly pounding out of her chest.

When the door creaked open, she was met with a pair of tired, hurt eyes. You looked at her, then turned away, walking back into the room without a word. Paige followed, closing the door softly behind her.

“Hey,” Paige began, her voice barely above a whisper. “Can we talk?”

You sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the floor. “I don’t know. Can we?” Paige took a deep breath and knelt in front of you, looking up into those eyes she adored so much.

“I messed up. I know I did. I was so stressed, and I took it out on you and it wasn't fair or okay, and I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked. “I was out of line and stupid.” Paige continued, her voice trembling. “You mean everything to me and I hate that I hurt you. I was so caught up in my own head that I didn’t stop to think about how it would affect you. Please, let me make it up to you.”

It was really hard to stay mad at her, especially after what you two have been through together this past season. You knew it wasn’t easy for her.

Your silence makes Paige fiddle with the fingers on your lap. “You really hurt me, Paige. I know that game was important but I just…” you finally looked at her, “I'm sorry I wasn't there but I just couldn't… I still watched it.” You cock your head towards the TV in your living room, it was playing ESPN. The analysts were discussing UConn's recent victory.

Paige follows your eyes, feeling a pang of guilt as she leans into your lap. Of course you were still watching over her. “I don't blame you for not being there. I was an dick and you didn't deserve that. Gosh I… I'm sorry. I really wanted you there to celebrate.”

“Paige…” You run your fingers through her blonde locks, feeling her melt into your legs. “I know it's stressful for you. You got a bunch on your shoulders,” you detangle some small knots, moving your palms to her shoulders squeezing the tight muscle there, “Buts it's not fair if you’re just going to handle it like that. To me and to our relationship. You lashing out like that was so…”

Paige looks up, eyes red and filled with tears. It made your heart twist. She had been surrounded by praise just a few hours ago and seeing her in front of you with tears didn't feel right. “I'm so sorry. I promise I'll work on it and it'll never happen again… just please, don't give up on me- on us.”

You sigh, “I'm not going to, Paige. Shit happens.” You cup her cheek and Paige melts into it, “Today's supposed to be a good day for you.”

Paige shakes her head, “Screw that. I need to make it up to you. No matter what.”

You gave her a small smile, “Paige you just won your final game at Uconn, you deserve to decompress at least a little.”

She stays unmoving in front of you. “You sure?”

“I'm sure." You give her a reassuring smile, pulling her up to sit beside you. "How about we celebrate together?"

Paige nods, relief washing over her. "I'd like that."

You wrap your arms around her, feeling the tension in her shoulders begin to melt away. "I'm proud of you, you know. You played an amazing game."

She leans into you, her voice soft. "Thanks. I owed it to the people watching.”

After a moment, you pull back and grin. "Let's order some food and watch a movie. Something to take your mind off everything."

Paige's eyes light up, and she nods eagerly. "I'd love that. Anything sounds perfect."

[misswynters]

Rooftop Cravings

Gwayne Hightower x reader (modern au)

[WARNING: making out/kissing, smoking, needy/desperate gwayne, implied sexual relations, worship?, extreme touching, not proofread

[synopsis: Gwayne calls you to the rooftop, needing you. Like a desperate man.

[note: uh i absolutely love freddie fox…he’s mine, the first pic is actually him (0-o)

Part of the Dragonblood: Southside Series

song inspiration: desert rose

The Hightower apartment complex stands tall and imposing in the heart of Chicago’s South Side. It’s a place where everyone knows everyone else’s business, and secrets are hard to keep. Tonight, the air is filled with the sounds of the city – sirens wailing in the distance, the murmur of late-night conversations, and the occasional blare of a car horn.

You move through the dimly lit hallways with purpose, your heart pounding in anticipation. Gwayne Hightower, the ever-charming and mischievous bad boy of the neighborhood, had slipped you a note earlier in the day – a secret rendezvous on the rooftop. The thrill of it all reminds you of scenes straight out of a TV show. Each apartment was a testament to wealth, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering sweeping views of the city that never slept. But Gwayne Hightower wasn’t interested in the views tonight. He was standing on the rooftop, the wind tugging at his clothes as he stared at his phone, desperation clawing at his chest.

He dialed the number, his fingers trembling slightly. The ring echoed in his ears, each second stretching into an eternity. When your voice finally came through, soft and curious, it was like a lifeline.

“Hello?” You answered with a question.

“Where are you?” His voice was rough, strained with an urgency he couldn’t hide. “I need to see you.”

There was a pause on the other end, and then you spoke again, concern lacing your words. “Gwayne, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” he admitted, his breath hitching. “I’m on the rooftop of The Hightower. Please, come. I… I need you.”

The line went silent for a moment, and he could almost hear the wheels turning in your head. Then, with a resigned sigh, you agreed. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Gwayne ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket, pacing the rooftop as he tried to calm his racing heart. The city lights flickered below, but all he could think about was you. The way your smile lit up a room, the warmth of your touch, the sound of your laughter. He was consumed by thoughts of you, his need for you almost painful in its intensity.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an hour. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and longing blending into a potent mix that made it hard to breathe. When you reach the rooftop door, you push it open and step into the cool night air. Gwayne was waiting for you, leaning against the edge of the building with a cigarette dangling from his lips. He looks up as he heard you approach, his trademark smirk playing on his lips.

“You actually came,” he says, taking a drag from his cigarette and exhaling slowly, his back facing you.

You looked around the rooftop, adoring the city skyline. Seeing him at the edge, you walked over. “Gwayne, what’s wrong?”

He turned to face you, his eyes dark with unspoken emotions. “I’m sorry,” he slightly whined, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be without you.”

Gwayne's confession hung in the air between you, heavy and charged. The city below seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you on this isolated rooftop. The cool night air mingled with the warmth of his breath on your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Gwayne stubs out his cigarette and steps closer, closing the distance between you. “I’ve missed you,” he murmurs, his hands finding your waist and pulling you close.

"You don't have to be sorry," you whispered, your fingers brushing against his jaw. "I'm here now."

He closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as if it were the only thing anchoring him. "I've missed you so much," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "Every second without you feels like an eternity."

You pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, soft and reassuring. "I feel the same way."

He chuckles softly, his breath warm against your ear. “Shall we make the most of our time together then?”

You couldn’t even respond before Gwayne captures your lips in a searing kiss. It’s as if all the pent-up longing and passion you’ve been feeling spills out in that single moment. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as your fingers tangling in his hair deepening the kiss.

Gwayne's hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer. His need for you was palpable, an almost physical force that drew you together. He kissed you again, slower this time but no less intense. Each brush of his lips against yours was a silent plea, a desperate need to be connected to you.

The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you and the raw emotion that pulsed between you. Gwayne's hands roamed your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you.

"I can't get enough of you," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire.

You smiled against his mouth, your heart swelling with affection. "Then don't stop," you whispered, your words a gentle challenge.

Gwayne's response was immediate. He kissed you with renewed fervor, his hands exploring every inch of you. His touch was electrifying, each caress sending waves of pleasure through your body. You melted into him, giving yourself over to the intensity of the moment.

He guided you until your back pressed against the railing of the rooftop. The metal was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat of his body. Gwayne's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses in their wake. You tilted your head back, giving him better access as your fingers dug into his shoulders.

"Gwayne," you moaned, the sound of his name on your lips spurring him on.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. They were dark with desire, but there was something else there too- a vulnerability that tugged at your heart. "I love you," he said, his voice trembling with the weight of the words.

"I love you so much it scares me."

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands. "I love you too," you said, your voice steady and sure. "More than anything."

A shudder ran through Gwayne at your words, and he captured your lips in another searing kiss. There was a new urgency to his movements, a desperate need to show you just how much you meant to him. His hands slid under your shirt, the heat of his touch sending shivers through your body. Gwayne’s fingers deftly unbuttoning your shirt.

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your skin, your own hands finding their way under his shirt. The feel of his muscles beneath your fingertips was intoxicating, and you couldn't get enough. You needed to feel every inch of him, to remind yourself that this was real.

Gwayne pulled back just long enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside before doing the same with his own. The sight of his bare chest, illuminated by the city lights, took your breath away. He was beautiful, every inch of him a testament to strength and vulnerability.

He pressed you back against the railing, his hands exploring your now exposed skin. Each touch was a promise, each kiss a declaration of his love. You could feel his need for you, the way his body trembled with barely restrained desire.

"Please," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "I need you."

You nodded, your own desire mirrored in his eyes. "Mmmm," you hummed, your wordless expression, a vow.

Gwayne's eyes darkened at your words, and he kissed you with a passion that took your breath away. His hands moved to the waistband of your pants, his touch gentle but insistent. You helped him, the two of you working together to shed the last barriers between you.

When you were finally free of your clothes, Gwayne took a step back, his eyes raking over your body with a hunger that made your pulse race. He reached out, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned in for another kiss. You stood there in your underwear and so did he. It was slightly cold tonight, so it was wise not to be fully naked out in the open.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured against your lips.

You blushed, the intensity of his gaze making you feel exposed in the best possible way. "Says Mr. Handsome," you jokingly replied, your voice soft but full of conviction.

Gwayne's lips curved into a smile, and he kissed you again, his hands exploring your body with a reverence that made your heart ache. Each touch was a reminder of just how much he loved you, just how much he needed you.

The world seemed to fade away as you lost yourself in him. The city below, the stars above - none of it mattered. All that mattered was the way he made you feel, the way he showed you just how deeply he cared.

Without breaking the kiss, Gwayne's hands moved to your waist, slightly touching your nipples through your bra. His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a path of fire in their wake. When he reached your chest, he paused for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at you.

"Is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. "Yes, Gwayne. Please."

That was all the encouragement he needed. His mouth descended on your chest, kissing and sucking with a need that left you breathless. His hands cupped your breasts, kneading gently as his tongue flicked over your sensitive skin. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't help the soft moans that escaped your lips.

Gwayne's neediness was palpable. He was everywhere at once, his hands, his mouth, his body pressing against yours.

He worshipped your chest with an almost frantic desperation, his kisses turning into gentle bites and sucks that left you trembling with desire.

"You're so perfect," he murmured against your skin. "So fucking perfect."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. "I need you too," you breathed. "I always have."

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a raw, unspoken emotion. "Then let's not waste any more time."

With that, he pulled you into another searing kiss, his hands never leaving your body. Up on the rooftop, under the moonlit sky, it felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, lost in each other's arms.

You pull away from the kiss, both of you breathless. Gwayne’s eyes are dark with desire, but there’s also a softness there that you don’t see often. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender.

He leads you to a makeshift seating area – an old blanket spread out on the rooftop, surrounded by the twinkling lights of the city. You sit down together, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

“Sometimes, I feel like this is the only place we can really be ourselves,” Gwayne admits, his voice raw and honest. “Away from all the bullshit.”

You nod, understanding all too well. Life in the Hightower complex is chaotic, full of drama and noise. Moments like this are rare, precious.

“What’s been going on with you?” you ask, wanting to share in his burdens, if only for a little while.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Same old shit. Trying to keep my family together, keep everyone out of trouble. It’s exhausting.”

You lean against him, your head resting on his shoulder. For a moment, the world feels right. The noise and chaos fade away, leaving just the two of you and the city lights.

The morning sun filters through the cracked blinds of the huge apartment. You wake up to the sound of Gwayne moving around the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the air. You stretch and sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Last night was absolute perfection and bliss. He treated you well, having the most loving and gentle sex you could’ve imagined. It was all you can think about.

Gwayne turns as you enter the kitchen, a smile spreading across his face. “Morning,” he says, handing you a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” you reply, taking the cup and savoring the warmth. “Thanks.”

He leans against the counter, watching you. “You should stay more often. I like waking up to you.”

You smile, feeling a warmth that has nothing to do with the coffee. “I like waking up here.”

Gwayne steps closer, his hand cupping your cheek. “Then stay with me, ___.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. It’s a big step, but one you’re willing to take. “Okay,” you say softly. He kisses you gently, sealing the promise. Gwayne traps you between the kitchen island and his arms, leaning down to match you height. You could feel him pressed against you, the only layer between the two of you was the thin underwear you both were wearing. He wanted another round.

[note: i keep adding more to my plate however, i was in NEED for this 😐, if you would like to be added to my taglist for all of my gwayne fics COMMENT!

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @spn-obession @beebeechaos @diannnnsss @thebenjiblackwoodexpress @maryldrsstuff

banner: @cafekitsune

[buccini555]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐲

★ You found out you were pregnant, but were afraid to tell them, but they ended up finding out

★ H e a d c a n o n s !

★ 𝑭𝒕. Manjiro Sano, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Kakucho Hitto, Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Kokonoi Hajime and Takeomi Akashi

tw: unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy symptoms, bad words, abandonment, a little angst but a lot of fluff

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨

Manjiro began to notice the change in your behavior, having the impression that you were hiding something, he knew, at that point he was almost sure that you were expecting his baby.

"Don't lie to me..." He held you, making you completely vulnerable, tears came down his face, Manjiro was really scaring you.

"M-manjiro, stop, please..." You just closed your eyes, expecting the worst and fearing for your son's life, but, unexpectedly, Manjiro let you go, giving you a hug full of affection, you remained silent, watching him place his hand on your belly.

"A-are you... pregnant?" Your heart beat faster, a feeling of despair took over you, but it was too late. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry but, it's true, I-I'm expecting your baby." Silence took over the room, being broken by Manjiro's inconsolable crying.

"Thanks." He said through tears. "Please take our baby away from me, I don't want to hurt you..." That was the last thing you heard from Manjiro before he told you to leave.

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨

You tried to hide all the symptoms so that Haruchiyo wouldn't notice, until the day you were having dinner together and you felt sick, as soon as you got up and went to the bathroom because of nausea, at that moment he already knew that you were pregnant.

"Love? are you ok?" He walked into the bathroom, seeing you sitting on the floor crying.

"Be honest with me... You're pregnant, aren't you?" Haruchiyo said as he helped you get up, your crying only intensified at that moment, confirming Sanzu's question, he remained silent, looking at you and stroking your face, it was definitely not the reaction you expected from him.

"Were you scared to tell me? I-I'm so sorry." Sanzu hugged you, then he walked away and at that moment you expected the worst possible reaction.

"I'm really angry that you're making your mother sick, we have to take care of her together, do you hear your father?" He said hugging and placing a small kiss on your belly, giving a smile of relief from you, later getting up and giving you a long kiss.

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨

Kakucho was always very attentive to you, for that reason, it didn't take long for him to suspect that you were pregnant, his doubts were only confirmed the day you ended up in the hospital because of a faint.

As soon as he found out about your hospitalization, he went to visit you, but as soon as he arrived in the room you were in, he saw you doing an ultrasound and listening to your baby's heart, as soon as you noticed his presence, your heart accelerated, Kakucho was standing at that door crying with a smile on his face, he went into denial for a moment, his emotion upon hearing your baby was so great that he couldn't even contain himself.

"Y-you're really pregnant, our baby is so small, so fragile... We're going to have a baby, I can't believe it!" He approached you, holding your hand and telling you through tears, he was shaking and couldn't even look away from the image of the baby.

"That was the best gift you could have given me, thank you darling! Now you're no longer the only love of my life." He kissed your hand, his reaction left you completely in love, you were sure at that moment that despite everything, you chose the right father for your baby.

𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

Rindou and you were in the room listening to some songs together when you started to feel sick, as much as you were trying to hide your pregnancy, Rindou had already noticed at that moment.

"Shit, aren't you going to tell me you got pregnant?" He said in a serious tone, looking directly at you, you looked at him scared, but you would have to tell the truth. "I'm sorry Rin..." You just confirmed his question, Rindou was completely shaken by the news and you could only hope for the worst.

"I'm not going to be a good father..." He said in a low tone, shaking his head in denial and trying to hide how disappointed he was. "I'm sure you'll be a great father, Rin." Everything suddenly became silent, almost as if time had stopped, Rindou hugged you, then placed his hand on your belly and caressed you with a smile on his face.

"I'll do my best for you, you and this little one boy... Or little one girl! Ran will love knowing he's going to be an uncle."

𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

Ran You definitely won't find out about your pregnancy that easily, but as soon as he saw you feeling sick in front of him, something in his intuition made him realize your pregnancy.

Holding your hair as you finished throwing up, he couldn't help but ask you.

"You are pregnant?" He asked the question with a worried expression, seeing you feeling sick and thinking about the fact that you were carrying that weight alone made him completely sensitive, fearing for Ran's reaction, you just nodded your head.

"You should have told me earlier!" He shouted at you, making you even more scared.

"Forgive me... I didn't mean to yell at you." Ran hugged you, being careful in his embrace, he was already getting used to the presence of your baby, knowing that he would have to change his behavior for you.

"...My angel, my girlfriend and future wife, you made me a complete man!" He said, still hugging you, Ran proposed to you at that same moment and promised himself that regardless of anything, he would be the best father your baby could have. "Rindou is going to spoil this child so much..." Ran said with a smile on his face.

𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞

Kokonoi had already made it very clear previously that he did not intend to have children, hiding the pregnancy from him would definitely not be a good idea as it didn't take him long to realize it.

"Do you have something to tell me?" He would ask you, already knowing the answer, Kokonoi didn't want to believe that that had happened.

"N-no." You said, trying to deny the obvious, but he interrupted you.

"You are pregnant." Koko stated, taking a long sigh and shaking his head in denial, you expected the worst possible reaction, but the tallest just burst into tears, soon going to hug you.

"I would never, ever deny our baby, I love you and I will love this baby, in fact, I already love him... or she? I don't know!" He said, or at least tried to say in the midst of so much emotion, he hugged you tightly, you just felt how much he was shaking, Koko was scared and just feared he wouldn't be a good father to your son. "I will take care of you, I will protect you! You are my most precious one, you and our baby."

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐀𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢

Takeomi already knew about your pregnancy, he paid close attention to your behavior and it didn't take long to notice the changes.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Where were you thinking when you chose to hide your pregnancy from me?" Takeomi said placing you against the wall and holding your face aggressively, at that moment you could only cry, fearing for your baby's life.

"You were just another slut, you should have thought about that before showing up pregnant." He said, releasing you, despite all that violence, Takeomi was honestly moved by the fact that you were expecting his baby.

"... I'm so sorry." Takeomi looked at you, helping you sit down and sitting in front of you.

"I won't be able to move on with my life knowing that I left a child behind, so I will take care of you and these children, but know that I'm not happy at all with this mistake I made." He got up and left.

[selarina]

The phone rings. Once. Twice. Thrice… and Gojo Satoru found himself contemplating hanging up, yet just as the thought formed, you answered, on the sixth ring.

"Hello," your voice emerged painfully neutral.

He couldn’t tell if now’s a good time. He hears some background music, akin to the subdued chatter of a small crowd, as though you were in a café of some sort. He thinks, no— he knows this a bad idea, but the words tumble out of his mouth anyway. “Hey, it’s me Gojo Satoru.”

"Yes, I know, Satoru," you replied with tint of slight irritation

You didn’t delete his number. At least this is a hopeful start.

“Happy birthday,” he said. “I know I'm a few hours late. I'm sorry.”

"Thanks... you don't have to apologise," you replied, your tone truly void of any accusation. Right, he thinks, it’s not his place.

“I know, but I still feel sorry,” he confesses. “I feel bad.”

“Okay,” you respond flatly, and there’s a pause that extends into almost a minute of full silence before you speak up again, “Is that what you called me for? To wish me?”

“Yes,” he says.

“Okay,” you say, letting a pause mull over you. “I’ll get going then. It was nice talking to you.” you say.

“I— I forgot your birthday. I only remembered it a few minutes before,” he adds, his words flowing out a bit hastily just in case you cut the call on him,l. It would pull the plug on him forever, leaving him breathing heavy and heavy until he’s left alone to drift away in the dark.

"Uh, okay," you responded, sounding confused.

"I mean, I hated that," he continued, his words flowing in an anxious succession. "I hated seeing you become this... this person I used to know. Whose birthday I couldn't even remember. I used to be the first to wish you, every day for years. Do you remember that?” he asks. “I miss that."

“Yeah, I remember," you murmur softly. You remember it. But in your recollection, what emotions dwell? Do you remember it with a sense of fondness? Do you remember it with sadness? Or did you remember it as a cautionary tale? He couldn’t tell.

“I miss that,” he repeats because his words are limited and he’s scared of saying anything more but he’s more scared of saying nothing ever again.

A beat passes by, and he stays still in his seat, holding his breath for nothing in particular.

“Me too,” your voice comes out. It doesn’t sound like a confession, it’s the one thing he liked about you — how your confessions came out of your mouth like indisputable facts. I like your smile. I like your eyes. I like you. I love you. These sentences didn’t seem like a confession; you would say it and he would know for it to be as true as the moon in the sky.

He smiles, “How did you celebrate?”

You sighed, "Not much. Dinner with the family, drinks with some friends, and now I'm heading back home."

"It's only 11 pm," he chuckled, as though he wouldn't be in bed by 9 himself.

“Yeah," you chuckled in return. "Guess some things have changed."

“Not really, you were still a bit of a grandma back then,” he teased.

“I was not!” you protested. You were not.

"There's no shame in that," he reassured, well loving and accepting of your homebody nature.

“There’s an hour left,” you say all too suddenly, interjecting him into a pause.

“An hour?" he spoke up, puzzled.

"Of my birthday," you clarified.

"Right," he responded, uncertain where this was leading.

“Well, you can always make it up to me.”

“Make what up?” he asked.

“Not wishing me,” you specified. “There's still another hour left.”

A smile crept onto Gojo's face, and he was already reaching for his car keys as swiftly as your words had emerged from your lips.

[folkvangr-seidr]

You're a bad idea.

Pairing: Cairo Sweet x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary: Cairo is mesmerized by the new, mysterious student sharing a class with her.

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: cursing, steamy scene (no smut however) I think that's all?

a/n: i'm sorry if it feels a little rushed? i changed the ending almost four times. hope you enjoy!

You hated how everything was changing but still, you felt numb.

You moved to another state, you decided to focus on your writting and suddenly you became a mystery.

Or at least that's how Cairo saw you. And she loved a good mystery more than anything.

More so if the mystery was the new and gorgeous student sharing a class with her.

Yeah, maybe she was getting a little obsessed over someone she had only exchanged a few words with.

She knew very little about you. Your name. The amazing writer you were. The body she only saw once, when you crossed paths in the locker room, you having finished your training with the soccer team, she getting ready for her swimming lessons.

The way you seemed to try to blend in so no one would be able to notice you. But she did. How could she not?

So she found herself, once again, writting about you. The possibilities were endless.

Who were you? Why did you get here halfway through the course?

God, she needed some sleep.

_________

You were late to your first class but you couldn't care less. The creative writting lecturer was really annoying.

You didn't bother knocking on the door and just walked in, getting a few stares from other students AND, obviously, your professor.

"So you decided to finally show up? What an honor" he said.

You chose to ignore him, it was really early in the morning and you didn't have time for coffee before you left home so yes, you felt like shit.

You scanned the room looking for an empty seat somewhere you could just lay low until your eyes landed on Cairo Sweet.

Well, on the spot near her. You walked there and without another word you sat next to her and opened your laptop on your desk, ready to start writting while blocking out your teacher's voice.

You opened your most recent work, knowing full well you didn't have the energy nor the time to finish it right then but you thought you might as well give it a try.

You could feel the burning stare on the side of your head but you decided to ignore it and started typing instead, focusing on your work.

The minutes passed excruciatingly slow and you could feel yourself getting more and more annoyed at the fact that you were unable to focus on the poem you were writing.

"Trouble in paradise?" Cairo asked with a smirk, leaning closer so only you could hear.

You stared at her with no sign of emotion on your face and she felt like you could see clearly every thought she ever had.

"Mind your own bussiness" you retorted.

You saw dissapointment flash across her features before she returned her attention to the stupid lecture and for some reason all you could think about was her smirk, the small dimples on her cheeks and all those freckles.

Fuck, her face was like a sky full of stars.

You tried to focus on your work with little success when Cairo's face haunted your mind.

_________

Class ended and you were the first one to leave, almost as if you were in a rush so when Cairo saw you smoking against a wall near the parking lot she was pleasantly surprised and without thinking it twice, she approached you and snatched the cigarrete from your hand, allowing herself a long drag before looking up at you with that same smirk from before.

You looked at her. Really looked at her. She was gorgeous. Her tiny frame held herself with shameless wonder. You felt like some force was pulling you to her.

"What do you want from me?" you asked.

She laughed and you swear your heart skipped a few beats in that moment.

"That's a great question" she said mischievously "I'm still figuring that out"

Then she stepped closer to you and she placed the cigarrete back in your lips.

"Then find me when you do, Cairo" you said smirking back before turning around and leaving.

She felt confused, she thought she was getting somewhere but she felt like you were always running.

Cairo watched as you started your bike and drove away from the building.

You really needed that coffee now if you wanted to make it to practice later that day.

_________

You were distracted, which earned you a talk from the coach. You scoffed and left the field to sit on the bleachers, as he instructed you.

"Sit back there and cool down, don't want that temper on my team, kid" were his exact words.

You couldn't help it. You either felt numb or mad, there was no in-between.

You watched as the rest of the team finished some drifts and exercises and you joined them, the only answer to your move being a slightly nod from the coach.

Practice finished without further inconvinience but you always decided to run around the field while everybody went home.

You liked the solitude of it.

So you found yourself entering the locker room really late that day. You took off your shirt first thing and then looked around to find no other than Cairo Sweet, her wet hair falling around her shoulders. And she was definitely checking you out.

"Enjoying the view?" you asked raising one eyebrow at her.

"Mhmm" she muttered not looking away from your abs.

You stepped closer to her and that seemed to put her out of her trance and look straight to your face. She was blushing and biting her lower lip.

"I will ask again, Cairo. What do you want?" you took another step closer.

Her eyes darted back and forth between your eyes and you lips as she licked hers.

"I want you, Y/N" she said breathless.

And she sounded so sure of it.

Your eyes darkened as she leaned closer to you so she could trace her hand against your jaw.

"So pretty…" she said.

Something inside of you switched and in a swift movement you grabbed her hand above her head and guided her backwards until her back made contact with the locker behind her.

"Fuck" she whimpered.

You leaned so close that she could feel your breath against her mouth.

"That's what you want, Cairo? You want me to fuck you?" you demanded.

"Y-yes" she was breathing hard and you were enjoying every bit.

You released her hand and she placed it on your shoulder, tugging for you to get even closer, while your hand made its way to her collarbone, you traced it slowly and then you placed it on her throat, with just enough force to keep her head in place as you finally closed the gap and smashed your lips agains hers, kissing her hard.

You shivered when you felt her hand tracing down your torso, taking her time around your top to finally rest on your abs.

She moaned when your tongue traced her lower lip, asking for permission which she happily complied.

The sound of a door closing took you both out of your steamy make out session and you felt your body tense when you pulled apart.

"I have to go" you said "Didn't mean to start a fire" you added smirking at her.

And with that you grabbed your things and left her there, speechless and aching for you.

[avocado-writing]

Hey there, if you’re still doing requests for BG3... I'm terribly angry about something big and outside of my control at the moment. Could you let me know what you'd think the BG3 companions do if Tav started self destructing? Like Tav passing harsher judgments, snapping at neutral NPCs, or fighting more dangerously and recklessly with bad guys?

Oooo the angst possibilities! Fun! Going to write like you’re self destructing due to stress, and you’re picking unhealthy coping mechanisms. Here we go:

Astarion

at first probably thinks that it’s quite funny. We know he enjoys seeing a little bit of suffering.

but, the more it goes on, the more worried you can see him become.

this isn’t like you. He knows you by now. You’re… kinder than this, damn it.

he takes you to the side one day after he’s seen you be short with a friend.

“whats the matter?” “Nothing, Astarion.” “If you’re going to lie to me, darling, you’d better do a better job of it than that.”

you go to snap at him, fire on your tongue, and then something inside you breaks. You just start sobbing. Everything which has been weighing on your mind has finally become too much.

he isn’t good at comforting words, but he does hold you. Runs his hand up and down your back, and lets you know you he’s here for you whenever you’re ready to speak.

helps you centre yourself again, eventually. He loves you. He’ll do what he can to make things better.

Gale

Makes a couple of snide remarks about how you’re acting, suggesting maybe you be a bit kinder, but then he stops to reassess how you’re acting.

there’s something wrong. You’re pent up. Furious, but not with the people you talk to. They just happen to be the ones bearing the brunt of it.

he sees the injuries you nurse on yourself after battles too. You used to be a clever fighter. Now you are a reckless one.

takes you aside one night at camp and presents his findings very matter-of-factly, concluding that there must be something the matter. When he puts it so astutely, you know you have no chance of hiding from him.

tears slip down your face and he is there in an instant drying your eyes. Telling you there’s nothing to worry about. Reassuring you that “the great Gale of Waterdeep is on your side, we’ll find a way to work things out.”

he puffs his chest out, you chuckle and bury your face in the crook of his neck. Yes. You will find a way to work things out.

Wyll

When he first sees you acting out, as it were, he immediately intervenes.

he knows what it’s like to be under great levels of stress. He made his contact when he was a teenager, after all, and had to deal with all the fallout that happened consequently.

he takes you to the side, holds your hand tightly in his, gets you to look at him.

“i love you, you know that, yes? If there’s something the matter, you need only tell me.”

you begin to crack immediately. Damn this sweet man and his emotional intelligence. Why is he perfect.

you let him know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. You agree you’re not coping with it very well. He says he’ll help you however he can, but you need to stop being so unkind to yourself.

“you matter, my love. You deserve sweetness.”

holds you close, and you just stand there for a while, together. From then on whenever something is wrong, he is the first one you go to.

Karlach

Sees you snapping at a friend, jumps in.

“whoa, whoa, whoa! Soldier, where is all this coming from?”

you snap to tell her it’s none of her business, she wouldn’t understand… but then you see the hurt in her eyes and immediately feel awful.

“Oh gods, Karlach, I’m sorry…” your voice is wobbly, cracking a bit, and she cups your face in her warm hands.

“hey, hey. it’s okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

you blurt out all your feelings to her in one, long, run-on sentence. She can’t help with a lot of the personal stuff, but she can listen, and she holds you to her chest and rocks you a little. Being engulfed by her embrace is very comforting.

”I’ve got you, babe, eh?” You know she does. For better or for worse.

Lae’zel

She sees the vicious way that you’ve been acting in battle. Strange, usually it’s her attempting to take the big hit, not you. She can take it, you can’t.

She finds you when you’re tending to your battle wounds. Sits down. Stares at you until you instigate conversation.

“what?” “You are not acting like yourself.” “Oh? And how would you know what that is?”

you’re just saying these things to be hurtful, but she’s stalwart. You’re deflecting.

She tells you she’s been enamoured with you long enough to see how you usually are. That you’re kinder, smarter. You’re lapsing into these feelings out of some sort of self-preservation, but you don’t need to.

”if there is something weighing on your mind, share it. I am here to help ease your burdens.”

you don’t love to cry in front of her but that is remarkably… sweet. It breaks you a bit.

You promise to stop being so foolhardy, especially in battle. She says that must be for the best, lest you get rended in half.

“Hey!” but she’s smiling. Your heart swells as you realise she’s trying to make you laugh.

Shadowheart

Lets you get quite far down the burrow of self-destruction before she does anything.

once again, she’s loyal to the lady of loss. Nothing you’re doing is exactly alarming to her.

but it does get worse and worse… she sees you snapping at friends, being harsher to passers-by, and she’s constantly having to patch you up after battle due to your wounds.

eventually one day you snap at her, and that’s her limit.

“I know something’s causing you stress but it isn’t me. I’m trying to help. So you can either pull your head out of your arse or I’m leaving this tent.”

the two of you have a little squabble, but it quickly becomes obvious your heart isn’t in it. Your anger turns to sadness. You collapse in tears and she pulls you to her without a second thought, holding you close.

despite her sharran devotion, she starts whispering how things can get better, how they will change. How the first step is letting people in.

her hand wound throbs as she comforts you. But in this moment she knows she’d pick you every time.

things are easier from then on, knowing she is with you.

[kpop---scenarios]

Dark Book Series (2) - Say You Love Me

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x Reader

Warning: Yandere Content, Murder, Mentions of Blood, Stalking etc

Word Count: 4.5k

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght @skittlez-area512 @skzdust @gnabnahcsworld @onlyhyunjin @stephanieeeyang @lostasoulinthedarkness @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @iam-wh0 @skzooluvr @queen-in-the-shadows

@ayyonoona

Felix | Hyunjin | Lee Know | Seungmin | Chan | Changbin | Jeongin | Jisung

“How are things today, Y/N?” Hyunjin asks. You stare down at your twiddling fingers, trying to hold in your tears before you speak. You hated crying in front of your therapist, but lately that seems to be all you ever do, and honestly Hyunjin seemed to be used to it by now. All your sessions seemed to involve you crying over your boyfriend.

“Y/N?” He asks, leaning slightly forward.

You look up, one tear rolling down your cheek. “I'm sorry.” You whisper. “Things are worse…at home. With Jackson. The past week, he's just been ignoring me, straight up walking out of the room if I walk in. Away from me if I try to talk tk him. No matter what I do.” You sigh.

“Mhm, prolonged silent treatment. That is a form of emotional abuse, you know.” Hyunjin murmurs, writing down on his notepad.

“And I honestly don't even know what I did to be given the silent treatment. He won't tell me. But on the brightside, I guess it's better than him screaming at me all day.” You sigh.

“Does he usually? Scream at you, I mean.” Hyunjin asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “Sometimes. If he's had a bad day at work. If I didn't clean the right way, or enough. If I say the wrong thing, or I talk out of turn. If a guy looks at me, talks to me…” You trail off.

“Does he know you see me?” He asks.

“He knows I see someone. If you're asking if he knows you're a man, then no he doesn't. I figured it was an unnecessary fight. I've been through a lot of therapists, and you're the best that I've been too.” You smile.

Hyunjin grins at your words, inside he's bursting with joy. “You know, Y/N. You are allowed to leave that relationship.” He tells you. “In fact, I would insist you do. Your mental health would improve exponentially.”

“I've thought about it. But I don't want to be alone.” You sigh.

You'll never be alone. Not as long as I'm around.

“Sometimes being alone is what heals the heart, and the head.” Hyunjin smiles. “You're stronger than you think.”

“I don't know if I am. What if I never find anyone else?” You groan. “Jackson says he loves me, when he talks to me. And that he does these things to make sure I'm the best version of myself.”

“Do you feel like what he does makes you the best version?” He asks. I can guarantee you don't.

“I feel like I'm losing myself piece by piece everyday.” You whisper.

I can help you heal. I can fix you. All you need is me.

“You need to leave, Y/N. It is in your best interest.” Hyunjin sighs, closing his notebook. “Unfortunately that's all the time we have for today. But I want to see you again in a few days to see where things are at home. Okay? I have Friday at 2pm, 4:30,pm, and 6pm.”

“Yeah, yeah sure.” You sniffle, wiping away your tears. “Let's do 2pm. I'm off work early on fridays.” You say.

I know.

“Friday at two. Okay, I have you down. You've got this, Y/N.” Hyunjin smiles as he watches you stand up, forcing a smile. He wished you weren't leaving to go home to your shitty boyfriend. He watches out the window from his office as you walk down the steps, grabbing his jacket and locking the door to the room he rents inside the building.

Hyunjin keeps a good distance behind you to ensure that you don't notice him behind you. He doesn't need to follow you to find out where you live, he already knows. He just likes to make sure you make it home safely. He's there to protect you, because that's what you need. You need someone to save you, and lucky for you, he was that person.

He smiles as he watches you checking the mailbox in the yard of your little house. He loved the house, but he hated the other occupant that lived there. You had been with Jackson for 3 years, only living together for one, so far but he hoped that it wouldn't be that much longer. The way your sessions were going, and the words Hyunjin was speaking, he was sure you'd leave Jackson in a few months. A couple more sessions, you'd be fully aware of how wrong Jackson was for you, and maybe realize how right Hyunjin was for you.

As you walk in the front door, he wanders around the side of the house, peering in the window to the kitchen and living room. He watches you setting your bag down on the table while Jackson walks into the room. He mutters some words, holding his arms out for a hug, and you nestle right into him. Hyunjin can see you melting into the hug, relishing in the fact that Jackson is now speaking to you again, and now giving you physical touch.

It makes Hyunjin sick.

After an hour, he can't take it anymore. He can't stand to watch you laugh and touch him, while Hyunjin knows it's only a matter of time before you're back in his office, crying because Jackson did something again.

When Friday finally rolled around, Hyunjin made his way to his office around 1:30pm, he sat behind the desk that came with the room as he thought about the first time he had ever seen you, which was now almost two years ago to the date.

**

“Yeah, no, I'll call to set up another appointment.” You say to the receptionist at the therapist's office. He could see the disappointment that was plastered all over your face, the second you walked out of Dr. Parks office. He wasn't surprised, Dr. Park wasn't the best in the business, but Hyunjin could be. Was he a licensed therapist? No. But could he be? Absolutely. He walks over to you, ignoring his name being called to go speak with Dr. Park, and stands by you at the elevator.

“Excuse me.” He smiles. “I couldn't help but notice the disappointment on your face after your session. I'm Dr. Hwang.” He says, holding out his hand. “and I'd love to meet and see if we'd be the right fit?” He smiles.

“Hi. Oh, um sure. Yeah, that'd be great. Dr. Park is good, he's just… um…” you pause.

“He's a friend, but I completely understand what you mean.” Hyunjin laughs. He pats his pockets before looking up at you. “Shoot, I was going to give you a card but it doesn't seem like I have any on me.” He sighs. “If you call me, I can get you in. Do you want to take my number?”

“Yes, please.” You say, pulling out your phone.

“Okay, it's….”

“Thank you so much.” You smile, stepping onto the elevator, slipping your phone back in your pocket. Hyunjin steps on the elevator with you, pretending like he was leaving just like you, and that's the day he had first followed you home. It took him time to find out information about you. He had, too. He had no choice. You didn't call for months. But when you finally did call, he was able to be the perfect therapist for you, as well as the perfect man for you.

**

Hyunjin is brought out of his thoughts, hearing the knocking at the door. “Come in!” He yells, putting his phone to his ear. “I promise, it'll all be okay.” He says, to no one. “I'll see you at your session on Monday, okay?” He says, waving you in, pointing to the couch. “Okay, yes, see you Monday.” He finishes, pretending to hang up the phone.

“Good afternoon, Y/N.” He smiles, opening his notebook.

“Good afternoon!” You say, in a better mood than when you were here a few days ago.

“You seem to be happy.” Hyunjin states, clearing his throat.

“I am! Jackson apologized the evening that I went home on Wednesday.” You sigh. “And since then, everything has been great!”

Hyunjin can feel the rage burning inside of him. “Well, it's only been two days, I wouldn't get your hopes up that things are changing, if I were you.” He says.

You raise your eyebrow at him.

“I just mean, narcissists, emotional abusers, who eventually turn into physical ones, don't change at a snap of a finger. This is a classic manipulation tactic, and he will turn in a split second. I just need you to be prepared.” Hyunjin explains.

“Oh.” You smile. He could tell his words had upset you, and while he didn't want to see you sad, you needed to know that Jackson wasn't going to change, and he'd be irrationally angry at her again, for something she did or didn't do.

“Do you two have plans for the weekend?” Hyunjin asks.

“Jackson wants to go out tomorrow.” You tell him.

Mhm, let me guess, to the club.

“He wants to go to the club with his friends.”

“Are you going to be joining him? It might be good for the two of you to get out together.” Hyunjin suggests.

“I asked if I could. But he said it was a boys' night.”

“Why not have a girls night?” He asks.

I'd love to run into you at the club. Take you home with me, where you'd be safe from him.

“You know what…” You pause, smiling. “That's a good idea. I wanna go to the club and get drunk too.”

“There you go. That's a plan.” Hyunjin laughs.

“Thank you, Dr. Hwang.” You smile. “I'm gonna go plan it now!”

“I told you, Y/N, call me Hyunjin. I hope you have a great time. I'll see you on Monday, at 6pm.” He laughs. The smile you had on your face was etched into his head. Fuck, he couldn't wait to see you on Saturday, even if you didn't know he was there.

**

Saturday night, Hyunjin makes his way to the club, later than anticipated but he was on the way to you regardless. He gets inside the building, the smell of sweat and alcohol surrounded him as he weaves through all the people grinding and drinking who were scattered around. His eyes are scanning the entire place, looking for one person in particular.

And when he finally spots that person, his heart flutters.

You look radiant, wearing your tight black dress, your hair and make up done. You were laughing as you danced with a friend, your own eyes scanning the bar, biting your lip as you looked for someone. Hyunjin sits in a booth, far enough away that you won't see him, but close enough that he can see you. He watches you take shot after shot, enjoying your night out. He enjoyed the fact that Jackson wasn't hovering around you, but it also pissed him off. You were currently in such a vulnerable state, anyone could take you away from him. In a split second things can change, and Hyunjin desperately wants to be that change. He wants to take you away from all the bad things in the world, especially Jackson.

He slowly sips his drink as he watches you stumbling around the dance floor. Jackson walks up to you, looking less than impressed by you. Hyunjin can see Jackson yelling at you as you sway, trying to pay attention but struggling. You look so unaffected by Jackson’s words, it was almost like you had just blocked him out instead of listening to him. He tells you to fuck off, before storming off, leaving you there alone.

Now. This was Hyunjin's chance. He finishes his drink, casually walking up to you, ignoring the many attempts of other women trying to get his attention. He was happily taken by you and would never stray.

“Y/N?” He whispers into your ear from behind you.

You spin around, trying to focus your eyes.

“Hyunjin?” You ask, squinting, moving your face closer to his.

“Hi.” He laughs. “Are you okay?”

“I'm fuuucking grand.” You slur, tripping over nothing.

“Woah, there.” Hyunjin laughs, grabbing onto you.

Your skin is so soft. So beautiful.

“Should I take you home?” He asks.

“N-no… my friend… is right there.” You hiccup, pointing behind Hyunjin. He glances behind him, seeing an angry looking girl coming towards them.

You turn around, waving to your friend. “Hey!” When you turn around again, Hyunjin is gone. “He…was just…here?” You mumble, completely forgetting you had seen him, moving on with your night.

**

“So, Y/N.” Hyunjin starts, just after you sit down on the couch across from him. “How was your girls' night?” He asks.

“It was a lot of fun! We ended up mixing our girls night with the guys night. It was a great time.” You smile.

“So no issues between you and Jackson, then?” He asks. He was confused. He saw Jackson yelling at you. There was no way the two of you were fine.

“I mean, there was a small one…” You trail off. “He got mad at me for drinking too much. In his words, I was blacked out.” You sigh. “I don't think I did. I remember everything.” You say, shrugging your shoulders. “Speaking of remembering, were you there?” You whisper.

“Where?” Hyunjin asks, acting surprised. “At the club?”

You nod your head, biting your lip.

You're making me want to take you right on this couch. Stop teasing me, Y/N.

“No, No.” He laughs. “The club isn't so much my scene.”

“I swear I thought you were.” You laugh. “Maybe I was drunk.” You whisper.

“So are things tense between you and Jackson?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Oh no. We actually worked It out quite maturely.” You grin. “No yelling, no name calling. It was different. But it was so nice.”

“Well, that's great.” Hyunjin mumbles. He was annoyed now. He needed to keep planting the seed of you leaving him into your head, how the fuck is he supposed to do that if the two of you are getting along?

Hyunjin glances at his phone, letting out a frustrated sigh.

“Everything okay?” You ask him.

“Uh, yeah. Just another patient. Do you mind if we end the session a few minutes early? I'm very sorry. She's very troubled.” Hyunjin explains.

“No problem! I'll see you on Wednesday.” You smile.

Yes, yes you will.

He watches you leave the room, closing the door behind you. He swipes the call on his phone, answering it. “What?” He snaps. “I told you never to bother me, Monday, Wednesday and Friday evenings.” He spits.

“I know babe, I'm sorry.” His girlfriend whispers. “I just wanted to ask if you were going to be home for dinner.” She murmurs.

“Yeah, I'll be there soon. Just have to make a call. Sorry.” He sighs, hanging up the phone. He liked his girlfriend, sort of. She was someone who reminded him of you. That's the only reason he was with her. She was the closest version of you he could find, until he can have the real thing.

You.

Hyunjin opens his notebook that he uses for sessions that happened to be only filled with information about you. He flips to the page he needs, pulling out his phone to dial a number.

“Hello?” A voice on the other end answers.

“Hey… um is Y/N there?” Hyunjin asks.

“What?” The voice asks. “Who is this?”

“My name is, um, Paul. I met Y/N at the club on Saturday. I must have misdialed the number. My apologies.” Hyunjin says, a giant smile plastered on his face.

“Are you talking about L/N Y/N?” The person asks.

“Yeah? Who is this?” Hyunjin asks, matching the same concerned tone of voice.

“I'm her fucking boyfriend. Or I was.” He snaps, hanging up the phone.

Hyunjin slides the phone into his pocket before he gathers his belongings, heading home to someone like you.

One day it will be you.

On his way home that night, Hyunjin took a small detour to your house. He just wanted to see if his plan to bring you and Jackson further apart was working. He crept around the front of the house, going to one of his two usual windows. He peers in the living room and kitchen window, seeing Jackson screaming at you as you cry, trying to calm him down. He wouldn't even let you touch him. Hyunjin would never do that to you. He would never make you cry like that.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, Hyunjin was like a child waiting for Christmas. He was anxiously waiting for you to come into his office and tell him about the last few days. He had a very good feeling he knew what you were gonna say, but he needed to hear the words come out of your mouth. His eyes were glued to the doorknob, waiting for it to turn. And when it does, he puts on his professional face, waiting for you to come in. And when you do, you look distraught. Your face was red and puffy from crying, your lips were quivering as you shuffled towards the couch. Sitting down without saying a word.

“What's wrong, Y/N?” He asks.

Come on, Y/N, say it.

“It's just… I… um… oh god.” You sniffle.

Come on, baby.

“Take your time. Take a breath.” Hyunjin urges.

“I think… I'm going to break up with Jackson.” You whisper.

That's a good girl.

“Oh?” He says, acting surprised. “I thought things were okay with you both?”

“They were. But then he started accusing me of cheating on him!” You yell. “He said he got a call from some guy named Paul! I've never even met any Paul's in my life!”

“I'm so sorry, Y/N.” Hyunjin sighs. “You know, often when a partner accuses his or her spouse of cheating, they're projecting onto them what they're actually doing.”

“You think Jackson is cheating on me?” You cry.

“I'm sorry to say, it sounds like it.” Hyunjin tells you.

“Yeah I think I'm done. He's been so mean to me the last few days. I'm just heartbroken.

I'm not.

“I think that's your best decision, Y/N. You need to free yourself from the toxicity. Leave yourself open to what the universe has to offer you.” He says.

“I think the universe is telling me that I deserve no one.” You sniffle.

“Nothing, and no one is off limits to you, Y/N. You deserve the world and out there is a man who is waiting and willing to give it all to you.”

It's me. I'm that man.

“Maybe you're right. So you think I should leave him?” You ask, needing the extra push.

You should have left him the second you met me.

“Yes, I really do.” Hyunjin says.

“Okay.” You breathe. “I'm gonna do it today.”

God, I knew you were such a good fucking girl. That's my girl.

“I'll see you on Friday, okay?” He smiles. He hated that your sessions were only an hour. Most of the time he barely heard a word that came from your mouth, he was too busy admiring you and how absolutely perfect you were. You drove him crazy and you didn't even know it. He wanted to hug you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear to make you feel better but you weren't his yet. He was so close to having you, and he could stop imagining all the things he wanted to know.

**

This was it. This was the moment he had been working towards for a year. The moment you were going to come in and tell him you ended things with Jackson, and then the second part of his plan would be able to begin.

You walked into his office looking like a ray of sunshine, as beautiful as ever.

“Good afternoon, Y/N.” Hyunjin grins. Nothing could ruin his mood.

“Good afternoon!” You say, happily.

“So.” He begins. “How did the break up go?”

“Well… Um… it didn't exactly happen.” You murmur.

Rage. Pure fucking rage.

“What do you mean?” He asks, his teeth gritted together.

“I told Jackson I wanted to break up. But he begged and pleaded for me to work things out with him. He promised he would get help. He actually suggested we move.” You smile. “So this weekend we're going to pack up the house and move about 12 hours away.”

The hell you fucking are.

“I don't think that's a good idea.” Hyunjin says.

“I just came today to thank you for everything over this past year. You've truly been a lifesaver.” You admit.

I'm about to be a life taker now.

“Well, I wish you all the best, Y/N.” Hyunjin says. You smile at him, getting up from the couch and leaving. If you thought this was the last you were seeing of him today, you were sorely mistaken. You didn't want to listen to him, now he had to take matters into his own hands. He took what he needed, leaving the rest. He no longer needed this room. He went straight to his apartment, his entire body fueling with nothing but pure fucking rage.

“Hi baby, you're home early.” His girlfriend smiles.

Fuck you. I don't need you anymore.

He walked up to her, pulling her in for a passionate kiss, guiding the two of them to the bedroom. He pushed her down on the bed, climbing up to hover over her giggling frame. He straddles her, gently caressing her face.

“I'm so sorry.” He whispers.

“For what?” She asks.

“I don't need you anymore.” He smiles. He takes both his hands, wrapping them around her neck, using all his strength to apply pressure. She trashes beneath him, clawing at him to let go of her throat and let her breath. But he can't do that. Not until he's done. He watches her eyes, relishing in the view of life slowly leaving her body as she slowly stops fighting him until she lays there, lifeless.

Hyunjin lets out a deep breath, admiring his handiwork for just a second. He had one other person to go see now, and he hoped to god that you would be there to witness it.

Hyunjin stood outside your house. Some of the lights were off, and the house was relatively quiet. He knew you never locked your back door, it was a bad habit you had. He'd have to retrain you. As quietly as he could, he opened the door, leaving it open. He crept through the back house, making his way to the kitchen, where he saw Jackson packing things up. You must be packing somewhere else or gone to bed early. Hyunjin grips the knife in his hand, peering around the corner. He needed to wait for Jackson to be facing away from where he stood. The element of surprise gave him an even bigger adrenaline rush than if he was to just attack. So he waited. He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until it was late, and he hadn't seen you in a while. He assumed you had gone to bed, leaving Jackson alone to finish packing up the kitchen. Hyunjin slowly emerged from the shadows, tiptoeing towards the man who faced away from him. As he gets closer, he rushes towards Jackson, knife first, plunging it deep into his back.

Jackson lets out a loud yelp, as Hyunjin pushes it into him deeper. “Fuck!” Jackson screams. Hyunjin pushes him down to the floor, stabbing him over and over again, his blood splattering from his body. Jackson didn't even try and fight him back, it was almost as though he just accepted his fate and imminent death. He couldn't stop, he had so much pent up rage for Jackson, he continued stabbing Jackson’s already lifeless body, until he felt like he could be done. He stands up, breathing heavily, pushing his hair back with his hand covered in blood.

Now there was nothing that could get in his way of being with you. He walks towards the bedroom, knife in hand. You were sleeping so peacefully, completely unaware of what Hyunjin had just done to your boyfriend.

He moves the chair in your room closer to your side of the bed. He sits down, slouching in the chair twiddling the knife between his fingers as he watches you sleep. You must be having a bad dream. He watches as you toss and turn in the bed, murmuring random words, your face full of panic. He just wants to ease your troubles and your worries.

It took you a while, but you shoot up in bed, gasping for air, clutching your chest as it heaves while you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.

“Jac…” You begin, clearing your throat. “Jackson.” You call out. Even in the dark Hyunjin can see the tears spilling from your eyes.

“Jackson!” You call out again, after receiving no answer.

“He's not available at the moment.” Hyunjin murmurs. Your eyes go wide as you turn your head, seeing Hyunjin sitting in your room.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper.

“I came here and did what you weren't strong enough to do.” Hyunjin says. “I took care of your problem. I did what you couldn't do.”

“What do you mean?” You gasp. “What problem?”

“Jackson!” Hyunjin snaps. “You were doing so well following my directions, and then you decided to stay with him. Why would you do that?”

“What?” You ask. You were having a hard time trying to wrap your brain around what he was saying.

“If you had broken up with him, none of this would have ever happened.” Hyunjin says. “You wouldn't have made me do what I did.”

“What did you do to him?” You ask him.

“It doesn't matter. What matters is that you and I can finally be together.” Hyunjin smiles, standing up from the chair. He walks up to you, sitting on the bed beside you. “Nothing can come in between us now.” He whispers, gently caressing your face. He leans in, closing his eyes, so close to pressing his lips to yours.

But you pull away from him, you look disgusted. “Please just go, Hyunjin. Please.” You cry.

“I can't! It's you and me against the world, now.” He whispers.

“I don't want to hurt you. But if you fight me, I just might have too.” Hyunjin whispers, wiping away your tears. “Do you understand?” He asks, placing the knife between the two of you. “I love you.”

You glance down, nodding your head.

“Say it back!” He snaps. “Say you love me. Is it that hard? I just need you to say you love me.”

You look down at the knife covered in blood, panic setting in. “I… I love you.” You whisper. It was like music to his ears. He had yearned to hear you finally say that to him. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

“That's a good girl.”

[not-magdi]

"Be my Valentine?"

Warnings: none :)

Summary: Lando surprises you on Valentine's Day.

Word Count: 1k

Reading Time: 4min 12sec

A/N

I am so sorry for not updating again, but life has been really stressful lately. I sadly can't promise you that it is going to be better a school is about to start again but I'll try.

Love y'all Magdi <3

February 13th, tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and you just ended a call with Lando, who was currently in Barcelona testing the new car. When he first told you he would be away for the 14th, disappointment and sadness were the only emotions you felt.   

Valentine's has been your favourite holiday since you were a little girl. It didn't matter if you had somebody or not. The pink hearts everywhere, the smell of roses in the air, and people all around being in love made it so special for you. 

And for two years, you got to spend Valentine's with the love of your life, Lando Norris. Although every day was special with Lando, he always made extra efforts for the 14th, such as preparing breakfast in bed, presenting flowers in a rainbow of colours, and gifting sparkling jewellery.

So, him not being here home with you this year crushed your spirits for tomorrow completely. Lando felt incredibly bad when he found out when the tests were, but nothing prepared him for how the spark in your eyes disappeared when he told you. 

Guilt was eating him up the entire trip to Barcelona. Even Oscar noticed and asked what was up. 

------

After you hung up with Lando, you decided to cuddle yourself up on your couch and do some self-care while watching some nineties rom-com. 

You knew it wasn't Lando's fault he didn't have a say in when the testing was going to be, but you were still really disappointed he couldn't be with you. 

------

Your stiff back and sore neck were the result of you falling asleep on the couch yesterday. The TV was still running when you decided to get up and make yourself breakfast. 

The second you unlock your phone, you are bombarded with posts of couples enjoying Valentine's Day together.  

Letting out an annoyed huff, you throw your phone on the couch and decide to take a shower, wanting to escape all that valentines crap for a bit. 

Afterwards, you felt way more refreshed and optimistic for the day. So you decided to throw on some of your favourite jeans and your most flattering top and head outside to the centre of Monaco. 

------

You spend your whole day wandering through Monaco, strolling through a few shops and taking a few breaks in some cafes. And even though you were still a bit mad at Lando, an addition to Lando's Valentine's present made its way into your bag. 

Your mood improved gradually throughout the day, but not hearing anything from Lando made it hard to stay positive. You texted him, "goodmorning ❤️" to show him you were not ignoring or mad at him. 

He reacted to your message, but it has been complete silence since then. You thought that maybe he was too busy, as he told you that today would be the media day, but not hearing anything from him hurt you were not going to lie.

------

And you were indeed correct in your assumption. Lando was incredibly busy today but not giving interviews and making content. No, he tried to convince Zak to let him fly home earlier today so he could spend some more time with you. 

"Oh, come on. Please Zak, I'm done with all my stuff, for what do you even need me here?" Lando begged his boss, quite desperate to let him fly home. 

Zak looked at him with a slightly tired expression. "Do you really have to fly home. I mean it's just Valentine's day."

Lando tried to put on his best puppy dog eyes. "It's really important for Y/N. I can't do that to her." 

That seemed to do the trick, as Lando is currently on a plane home to Monaco. He spent the whole flight on his phone, trying to make the time go by faster. A smile made its way onto his face when he saw you posted a photo of you sitting in one of your favourite cafes, enjoying the sun.

He felt so incredibly guilty after your call yesterday, already forming a plan for how he can make it up to you.

------

The second he touched the ground again, he immediately rushed to your favourite florist to get you the biggest bouquet of sunflowers he could find. 

The friendly old lady who runs the shop smiles as she sees Lando entering. You also visited her today, telling her your dilemma while buying a bouquet of pink tulips. 

So seeing Lando buying your favourite flowers made her happy for you, knowing you weren't spending the day alone anymore. 

------

You just came home from your trip, putting the flowers you bought in a vase and starting to make yourself some dinner. 

You were about to start eating when you heard the doorbell ring. Confused, you make your way to the front door. Looking through your peephole, you rip the door open in excitement.  

You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw your boyfriend standing before you. Well, you could barely see him between all those sunflowers. But what you could see. Was his adorable smile while he held a pink sign saying, "Be my valentine?" 

Rushing over to him, you tackled him in the biggest teddybear-hug, burying your face in his neck. 

"Hi baby." Kissing your head, Lando wraps one arm around you, squeezing you tight. 

"How-when, why are you here?" 

Chuckling slightly at your confusion, Lando answers, "Well I couldn't leave my girl alone on Valentine's now, can I? Besides, Zak couldn't withstand my puppy-dog-eyes." 

Laughing, you tilt your head, giving Lando a loving kiss while murmuring a sincere "I love you" against his lips.

"Mhm, I love you too, baby."  

------

After standing in your hallway like two teenagers, you ushered Lando inside, not letting go of his hand, wanting to have him near you all the time.  

You were now cuddling on the couch, your wrist decorated with a new bracelet, a sparkling "L" adorning its front. 

Lando broke the comfortable silence you two were basking in, "You didn't answer my question from earlier." 

You look up at him, confused. "What do you mean?" 

Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he says, "Will you be my Valentine?" 

Laughing, you take his face to kiss him, "Yes, Lando, I'd love to be your Valentine." 

------

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