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#but feeling broken and hopeless and. heavy
Athena Cykes probably had a lot of self-identity issues as a kid.
She grew up in a strange, wonderous place filled with robots her mother and Aura built together. Rarely could she function outside in everyday life. She's told it's because she notices things people can't, does things people don't usually do. She's told she's... stranger than most, in various ways.
Why was she so different? Why is she the only one who can hear how offput people are around her? How come she's the only one who sees robots as people?
Is everyone else deaf or is she too aware to be 'normal' by their standards?
Perhaps she's a robot too, like the rest of her mother's creations? That makes sense! They can hear everything she can and they understand each other. Love each other, it feels like. Juniper probably giggled when she told her, assuring her that they'd be friends whatever Athena thought she was. Simon merely lets her get on with things because it helped her make more sense to herself. And it does help; imagining that all she needs to fix her ears and her brain was to tighten a single loose screw or type a line of code or... or... something her mother could easily do but always denies her. Does she need to be fixed too? Is she broken, like Athena was?
Everyone else though, she could tell they thought she had gotten weirder. But it makes sense to her. Why are they so obtuse and unwilling to listen?!
Nobody listened to her when she stood up for Simon's innocence. Face full of tears and voice strained from yelling and choking back phlegm and fear alike and no one listened to her. She might as well have been speaking in hexidecimal to these people the way they looked at her like some intrusive stranger in the middle of their wretched witch-burning.
When she moves to Europe, it's a total system-shock; no longer is she surrounded by laboratories and metallic friends, permitted to wile the days away playing in the flowering fields of her mother's research. Now she was in a regular brick-and-mortar home surrounded by... ordinary people, so few of which ever bothered to understand her in the past and certainly not now.
No one was going to help me solve this, she figured.
Neither could she at the time.
We don't know what friends or family she has in Europe who'd be willing to listen to her woes and at least try to understand. She probably didn't have time; someone was hurting far away from her and she NEEDED to save him. She NEEDED to untangle all the crossed wires and messy cables in her brain to stand a chance at ever helping him. And maybe, just maybe, finally understand why people never bothered to understand her.
Psychology is the study of the human mind. With the wisdom of psychologists past filling her brain and the gentle support of her mother's ghost - distant but encouraging even in death - she might just have a weapon to fight off all this doubt. One she can turn on others' internal confusion as well. To be the person she needed in her darkest hours, crying her eyes out in a hopeless feedback-loop wondering just why she was so alone.
To be someone willing to listen and understand. For herself, and for others.
(She might also be robokin but she has a full-time job and heavy sleep deprevation so she doesn't really care about that rn)
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themightyrancho · 1 year
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You know it's bad when you're nostalgic for the connections and relationships you had in 2020 :•)
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gyutopia · 2 months
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overpass graffiti | sim jaeyun
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ꕤ DESCRIPTION: “they say we fall in love three times in our lifetime: our first love is the one that breaks us, leaves us hopeless and lost, this then brings us to our second love, the one which picks up the broken pieces of our heart and mends it back together; heals us from the heartache the first left and lastly, our third and final love⏤the love that’s supposed to last. for you, your best friend sim jaeyun happens to be two out of three.”
ꕤPAIRING: best friend!jake x f!reade & second lead!jungwon
ꕤGENRE(S): slice of life!au, soulmate(?)!au
ꕤWORD COUNT: 23.9k
ꕤWARNING(S): loss of virginity, soft dom!jake, sub!reader, oral (f!receiving), p in v intercourse, no protection, drugging (not the reader), underaged drinking, swearing, dry humping, mentions of plan b, mentions of hospitals, possessive!jungwon, mentions of sobriety, heartbreak, allusions to depression, mentions of drinking and smoking, mentions of passing out.
ꕤA/N: i think i have a thing for sim jaeyun and angst.
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“Jaeyunie, meet ____. You and her are gonna be best friends.” 
Jake’s mother smiles, a hand lightly on his back, and pushes him forward with a gentle pat.
The moment she steps away from his side however, he panics, looking back at her desperately. He’s met with a smile of encouragement - caring but unsympathetic. Jake swallows harshly, shyness heavy in his throat, and uses all the willpower in his 9 year old body to force himself to look at the small female.
Standing across from him, a girl of roughly the same stature is grinning toothily - or at least she could've been, if she’d had enough teeth. ____, was dressed neatly, her hair laid down with lots of gel and two ponytails with bows holding it all together. Her light purple dress swayed as the gentle breeze blew. In one chubby fist she clutched tightly onto her fathers hand. Jake blushed, if he didn’t firmly believe that girls had cooties he would have sworn her to be the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on so instead he scrunches his nose and says the first thing that comes to his mind and knows will hurt her feelings.
“You’re dirty,” he proclaimes, crossing his arms. “Very dirty.”
At his words, ____’s smile quickly falters and an almost angry look overtakes her face. “Am not!” Sensing his daughter's growing fury, her father steps in.
“____ah, calm down. I’m sure Jaeyun didn’t mean it, why don’t you two spend some time together? Hm? I’m sure you’ll be best friends.”
Not giving his daughter any time to argue, he excuses himself and leaves to go join the other adults by the varanda.
____ crosses her arms and stares up at Jake intimidatingly, “apologize.”
Jake gulps, although he’s a whole head taller than the girl and probably even older, he can’t help but be slightly scared of the icy glare she’s sending his way so he meekly mumbles, “I’m sorry”
However, it doesn’t seem as if ____ is pleased with the half assed apology. She raises an eyebrow and impatiently taps her foot on the grass, “for what?”
He gulps, “for calling you dirty, I didn’t mean it.”
Satisfied with the apology, a wide smile breaks out on ____’s face before she doubles over from laughing so hard. “Y-you should have seen your face!” She abruptly stands and quivers her bottom lip as she stares at Jake, “I-I’m s-s-sorry.” She breaks out into laughter once again, unable to hide her amusement. Jake only frowns and crosses his arms.
“It’s not funny.”
Ignoring his embarrassment, ____ walks right up to him and slings an arm around his neck,  “Let’s be best friends forever, yah, Jaeyunie?”
Usually Jake would have scolded anyone who called him Jaeyunie, his mother and hyung being the only exceptions, but for some reason hearing the name slip out so easily from your mouth seemed comforting. “Okay,” he agreed, slightly hesitant. “You seem kinda stupid, so I can still be number one with you as my best friend.”
You only smiled in response, delighted, before spinning on your heel and running back to your mother and father, who were talking animatedly with his own parents.
What a strange girl, Jake thought. At least she wouldn't be competition.
___
Later that night, both of Jake’s parents and your mother and father were sitting at the table discussing grown-up things while you were in the bathroom and Jake was sitting beside his brother when his name filtered through to his ears. He had been in the process of stabbing the greens off his plate and slowly feeding them to his precious dog Layla when his parents weren’t looking, but at the mention of his name he perks up instantly. 
“...Jake has already been offered scholarships to private middle schools once he finishes elementary but he’ll be attending the private international school his elder brother goes to,” she was bragging again.
Your mother perks up as well, “Wow, that’s so incredible, Suyeon. I think being friends with Jaeyun will really help ____ find some initiative. She’s already so used to being good at things, a little healthy competition is just what she needs.”
Jake’s father nods, gesturing for the maid in the corner to bring over the bottle of wine. “It’s certainly going to help with that. While we’re on this topic, I’d like to invite you to join our study group. We have the best tutors come in and teach the kids after school but only the best of the best are allowed to join, ____ shows a lot of promise.”
Jake listens nervously, watching his father as the maid filled his glass and stepped back.
you’re….smart?
His mother notices him staring, and reaches over to tousle his hair affectionately. “Don’t worry, Jaeyunie,” she croons. “You’ll still be number one. Being friends with kids that are as smart as you is a good thing! You and ____ will have lots more to talk about than you would with anyone else.”
He frowns. He knew sometimes parents lied to kids to stop them from being sad, but his mother would never lie to him. Jake was too clever, he’d figure out the lie before she finished telling it.
“Alright.” He found himself cautious for the second time that day. “As long as I can still be number one.”
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Jake in fact did not stay number one for long.
Once you had fully settled into your new life in Australia your grades skyrocketed causing your teachers to bump you up a grade, placing you into Jake’s class, the two of you always went head to head vying for the first rank and each time Jake always fell a point behind.
It aggravated him to no end that you came out of nowhere and completely upended his whole life and identity, Jake had always been the smart one and never had any solid competition so having you seemingly pop out of nowhere and take away the very thing that made him, well him agitated him beyond belief.
But of course this made for a great friendship, while Jake claimed he hated your very existence he soon found himself looking forward to your after school study sessions. You never took them seriously, you always goofed off and made it your life's mission to teach Jake the meaning of fun. It took a while for the boy to warm up to you but you managed to get on his good side with a little bribing of fried chicken and grape soda.
The two of you would wait until your break to sneak out to the fried chicken place down the street to pick up the order you had placed during your tutoring session before heading back to hide in one of the various rooms inside Jake’s spacious home. The two of you would use this time to talk about the annoyances in your life, you would mostly complain about the girls who kept coming up to you to confess their love for Jake and how you were growing quite annoyed with having to turn them down on his behalf. He would only grimace and quickly change the topic to how annoyed he was with you for yet again topping the class rank.
Slowly but surely though, as the two of you began to age, the conversations began to change as he warmed up to you, what used to be pointless bickering and complaining turned into meaningful deep conversations about his fear of attachment, rooted in his father constantly leaving him and his family to go back to Korea for his job overseas. You had slowly become the only constant in Sim Jaeyun’s life and he truly had no intentions of letting you go. You really had become his best friend just like his mother predicted all those years ago.
While it might have taken Jake some time to love you, you loved him from the start. While everyone saw him as the perfect all rounder student you knew he was more than that. You knew he wasn’t perfect, wasn’t some ace who was just naturally talented. No, he worked just as hard- if not harder than his peers to keep up the image he was born to fit. He pulled all-nighters to bring home grades suitable for the assemblyman's son, immersed himself in after school clubs to fill up his resume because God forbid he wasn’t preparing for college at the ripe age of 9, learned multiple languages to become an ambassador for the school and threw himself into learning different instruments and playing different sports to really bring home the title of being an all-rounder.
In everything he pursued, he aced and came out on top. Which is why it irked him to his very core when you came around and knocked him down a peg. You knew right away just how much it bothered him, of course he complained about it every day during your group tutoring sessions but you didn’t really care. If anything it was motivation for you to work even harder to maintain the top spot.
You weren’t doing it out of spite or to intentionally anger him, no you were doing it to show him it’s okay to not always be perfect. It’s okay to rank second, it’s okay to goof off during tutoring sessions when studying is all you ever do, it’s okay to eat junk food when you feel like it and most importantly it’s okay to talk through your emotions with someone. You like to think you ranked first for his own good, to help him realize life is more than just school.
When the two of you reached high school you eased up with working so hard for the top rank but Jake didn’t, he studied all of your summer break before freshman year and placed into a year above you. It annoyed you that you were no longer graduating together but Jake became more lax and carefree knowing he would be graduating a year early, it was refreshing to see a new side of your best friend. Somewhere along the grades of 11 and 12 though, something shifted.
Jake was never unattractive but you never really took note of just how attractive he could be until your junior year.
___
“He’s gonna say no, Sarah.”
“We’re just looking out for you. He’s always hanging out with ____. They’re probably secretly dating, why don’t you just ask someone else?”
“I don’t know why you’re so set on him. I heard he’s already turned down six girls this month. six.”
Jake was just trying to get his calc homework done, bent over in the back of the library with his textbook open in front of him, eyes glued to the page. He spares you a frantic look, desperate to get your attention and convey that it was time to leave before it happened again. 
You, of course, were not paying attention. You were splayed out haphazardly on the chair across from him, headphones in and scribbling in your notebook. You had a smudge of graphite on your nose from scratching it in the middle of your doodling session.
You hum peacefully, completely unaware of your friend's turmoil.
It was everywhere. Prom. It was one stupid night, and he was fully planning on spending it wrapped up in blankets in his living room with you watching romcoms. It was the senior prom and he refused to attend a social event he knew you wouldn’t be at.
Unfortunately, Jake was alone in that feeling, the girls whispering from the table behind the two of you were right. He’d been asked six times. Six excruciating experiences of being cornered by a near stranger who smiled too sweetly and asked him to be their date, six separate occasions on which he’d stuttered a “sorry” and bowed deeply, ducking out before they could say any more.
And by this point, he just really, really didn’t want to have to turn down another girl. He felt like absolute crap.
Jake reaches out, tugging at your school uniform. “____” he whisper-yells.
You shrug him off and pout, “you’ll mess me up. Stop.”
He persists however, this time more aggressive and even goes the extra mile and pulls out one of your airpods. “I’ll buy you dinner please can we just go?”
You finally look up from your work slightly agitated and a full on pout graces your lips, if it were any other time Jake would take a moment to admire how adorable you look but it wasn’t.
“Why do you wanna leave so badly?” you huff out.
Before Jake can answer though he’s cut off by Sarah, one of the girls who has made her way over to your table.
“Jake?”
At the mention of his name his eyes squeeze shut and it hits you like a truck on why he was so adamant to leave. This time it’s the girl from his IB Latin class who he tutored on occasion.
She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, you wonder what Jake’s response is going to be this time. She’s very pretty.
“Yes?” He croaks out. Behind him, you sit up in your seat, ready to step in if needed.
She looks down, hands twisting together and fidgets and steps side to side, but when she sucks in a sharp inhale and looks up her eyes are filled with determination. Jake feels queasy, almost as if he’s about to vomit.
“Do you maybe want to go to prom with me?”
Jake swallows the lump in his throat, guilt twisting everything into a knot. You see his knuckles turn white as he makes a fist and you resume your drawing, knowing what his answer will be.
“I’m sorry,” he manages. “But I don’t plan on going.”
Your brow shoots up in shock, you never figured he was rejecting all these girls because he simply didn’t want to go, you thought he was just waiting for the right moment to ask the girl he truly wanted to go with. You never asked why he was so closed off about prom, you figured he would tell you in his own time when he was ready.
“Can I ask why?” She lets her hands fall to her side. “Even if you don’t wanna go with me, I think you’d have a lot of fun.” She retreats back to her friends before he can respond. Jake tries not to notice the way they shake their heads sympathetically and pat her back in comfort.
“She’s right you know, prom would be fun.” you say as you shut your sketchbook. “Plus, she seems really sweet.”
Jake rolls his eyes “you sound like my mom.”
“Ha ha,” you drawl, stretching and arching off the chair like a cat. “I really don’t understand why you don’t want to go. It’s your last chance to enjoy a high school dance.”
The previous year, while you were in your sophomore year and Jake in his junior year he skipped out on prom, choosing to attend his model UN conference instead as his dad had put an emphasis on how much more important the meeting was compared to prom.
Jake shrugs and reaches for your backpack to pull out some snacks you packed for him, “it makes it real.”
“Makes what real?” you tilt your head to the side and patiently wait for him to collect his thoughts to elaborate on what was bugging him.
Jake sighs. “That this is the end.” he mummers, “after prom it’s graduation, and after grad I’m off to the states for uni…away from you.”
Your heart skips a beat and your hands start to get clammy at his words. You try to subtly rub your hands on your skirt and sit up straighter, confused as to why his words have such a strong effect on you.
“We’ve never spent more than a week apart from each other and now we’re going to be thousands of miles apart for a year. I can’t go to prom knowing you won’t be there and that it brings me one step closer to leaving.” he continues, he doesn’t look at you as he lays his emotions bare for you, rather he focuses on organizing his snack options.
Your heart twinges at the reminder that he was leaving for Yale in the fall, this would be the last summer spent together for who knows how long. As much as the reminder upsets you, you still plaster a smile on your face and playfully roll your eyes.
“Did you forget our promise? You and me, forever and always. We have all of summer to make as many memories as we went and even after you leave we can facetime, technology has come a long way y’know.” You reach out to take the bag of chips he had settled on eating to open for him before handing it back. “Distance means nothing. I’ll always have time for my best friend, plus when I go to Harvard I’ll only be two hours away. Enjoy the time you have left in Australia. You'll probably miss it more than me when you actually leave.”
Jake shakes his head, “doubt it but you do make a valid point.”
You smirk and shrug, “when do I not?” You clear your throat. “Does this mean you’ll go to prom?”
He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and tilts his head side to side before asking, “go to prom with me?”
This time you can’t hide your shock, it’s not odd for you and Jake to be pairs for most social events but for some reason him asking you to be his date for his first and only prom causes heat to rise to your cheeks.
“W-what?”
“What? I can’t see myself going with anyone else, I’m most comfortable around you. Plus when I think back to my senior prom I want to remember how much fun I had and when I’m with you all the stress I’m under suddenly doesn’t matter anymore.” He states.
“Stop being corny,” you hiss weakly, fumbling with the straps on your bag. “It’s not a good look.”
Jake giggles, “what? Do you want me to get down on my knees instead? Do a promposal?”
Your eyes widen, mortified at the idea of him putting together a grandiose promposal. “You’re such a little shit, I swear—“
“Hold on, siri play stand by me by be—“
You pick up your sketchbook and hurl it at his head causing him to duck out of the way and fall out of his chair onto the floor with the force of his laughter. Hearing his laugh causes a pinch in your heart.
When he finally manages to pull himself together and off the ground, he wipes at his eyes and sighs. “Seriously, though.” He hums. “Will you go to prom with me?”
You swallow thickly, averting your eyes to the floor. “Sure.” you say quietly. “I guess so.”
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You're uncharacteristically nervous for prom. Your mom insisted on taking the day off from work to help you get ready when you told her Jake had asked you to go with him.
You thought she was being dramatic but she swore up and down, left and right- that this was the beginning to your ‘blooming love story’.
She brought you to a salon to have your hair and makeup done and even splurged on a $900 dress. You’re beyond grateful to have a mother as understanding and loving as she is. Your father is away on business and unable to make it to take pictures so your mom has been documenting the whole day to share with him, the two of you are currently in your bedroom as she paints your toes.
“Mom?”
She hums in reply and puts down a new coat of nail polish on your big toe. “How’d you know dad was the one?”
Your heart is quiet in your chest, a calm thumping rather than the stutter it had been at all week as you wait for her response. She softly smiles before responding.
“He showed up to my dorm room with pedialyte and carpet cleaner.” She caps the nail polish and cleans around the edges of your toes. “We had been dating for some time and I was supposed to attend a business summit with him but I had a stomach bug and threw up all over my dorm. Your dad didn’t hesitate to drop his plans for the day and showed up to take care of me. He was the first person to ever put me before anything else and I just knew I loved him when he showed up with no clue on what to do but willing. He didn’t care about what his dad had to say about skipping the event or anything else, just me.”
You hum and fiddle with your hands as you think back to moments you’ve shared with Jake. The first one your brain recalls is the first time you got your period. Unfortunately it happened during your school's nature classroom trip. You were up in the woods for the week learning about nature and science through different activities and during your first night there you got your period. You walked around the whole day with blood stains on your shorts and cramps you couldn’t account for. You were beyond embarrassed come dinner time. You had no girl friends in the grade to ask for help and the boys made it a show of embarrassing you at dinner by pouring ketchup all over your seat. Jake was having none of it though, he came up to you at your table and wrapped his hoodie around your waist before grabbing your arm and leading you out of the canteen to the nurse on site.
He stayed by your side that night watching stand by me on your phone outside the cabins getting bit by mosquitoes. He didn’t complain or make any jokes of his own, rather stayed silent and let you have the quiet time you needed. When the two of you finally retreated back to your separate rooms you found a little gift basket on your bed filled with different types of pads, tampons, a heating pack and some chocolates. Apparently while you were walking around with stained shorts Jake was going around collecting different menstrual items from the girls in your grade to give to you, his way of helping.
It did make your heart flutter at the time but you chalked it up to your period hormones and never spoke on how it made you feel to anyone…Was that when you started to fall in love with your best friend?
Your doorbell goes off and you feel anxiety seep into your bones. Your mom senses this and holds your hand to give it a firm squeeze. “don’t stress about something you’re not sure about, okay? I want you to have fun tonight - both of you.”
You nod at her, loving how she knows exactly what was plaguing your mind, you let her lead you out your room and out to the living room. She lets go of your hand and walks over to the door, opening it wide.
“Wow.” You and Jake exclaim simultaneously as soon as you see each other. The butterflies in your stomach erupt once again at the sight of him; dressed in an sleek black suit with the first three buttons of his black undershirt undone, his hair has been bleached blonde and styled down with a part in the middle.
“You look…amazing.” Jake breathlessly lets out, staring at you in complete awe.
You blush and flatten out invisible wrinkles in your dress. “Thank you so do you, I love your hair.”
He smiles and shakes his fringe out of his eyes, “thanks. Figured why not try something new. Ready to go?”
“Woah woah woah, hold on, you two aren’t going anywhere without taking pictures!” His mom appears from behind him, “Let me go get my phone real quick!”
Your mom claps her hands as scurries off to retrieve her phone, “Oh, yes! I have to take pictures for your dad.”
Jake walks up next to you and you’re sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest. “You look really great, ____.”
“You’re not so bad yourself. Blonde was a great idea.” You bring your hand up to fix his parting a bit more. “It’s a nice contrast with the all black suit.”
“Yeah.” He swallows, looking down at his shoes.
“Okay! I have my phone!” Your mom says as she returns, instructing both of you to move out to her garden in the backyard and stand by the peonies for the photo.
“This might take a while.” You whisper to him and he chuckles, gently placing a hand on your lower exposed back.
“Won’t you get cold later?”
You shrug, “probably. Good thing your mother raised you to be a gentleman.” It takes him a second to register your words, scoffing in disbelief once he realizes what you were hinting towards but he doesn’t argue knowing he really will give you his jacket the second he sees you shiver.
“Smile!”
___
After a long process of taking pictures the two of you finally head out with Jake driving you guys to prom. Upon arriving you’re amazed at how extravagant the venue looks. Just another perk of attending a private school you think to yourself.
After finding parking the two of you head inside to find your table, you’re sharing it with your two friends Kairo and Mei and a random couple who snagged their tickets at the last minute (Jun and Luna).
“Jake! ____!” Kairo and Mei are in the entryway to the ballroom, waiting for the two of you where they texted they would be standing.
Mei walks forward, a greeting never making it past her lips, as she reaches out to brush Jake’s fringe out of his eyes. “Sorry, it was bothering me.” She mumbles as she steps back.
You know her intentions are innocent but with the way Jake’s cheeks flush red and he can barely meet her gaze you feel a twinge of jealousy and sadness. Since when was he flustered by Mei? The four of you met during SAT Prep and formed your own study group to help each other out during midterms and finals your freshman year (Jake’s sophomore) the dynamic between you all was pretty formal. The four of you didn’t make plans to go to the movies or the mall like other kids your age, it was strictly studying and neither of you minded it. Kairo and Mei fulfilled you and Jake in an academic sense while you and Jake met all your social and more emotional needs together.
So why the hell was he all blushy at Mei fixing his hair? Why didn’t he react the same when you fixed his parting?
“Should we go in?” Kairo asks.
“That sounds great,” you grit out, your grip tightening on your clutch.
Mei slides up next to Kairo and slips her arm back through his. The four of you walk in and find your table. Kairo pulls out Mei’s seat and Jake follows, doing the same for you.
“So Jake, are you excited for commencement?” Mei asks once you’ve all taken your seats.
Jake clears his throat, “more nervous than excited. Can’t believe it’s all finally over.”
The three of them go back and forth in idle talk before Jake slowly eases his way out of the conversation, mindlessly nodding at what your friends are saying and leaving you to your thoughts.
He’s uncharacteristically silent though as he bobs his head to the music. Seeing as you know him better than yourself, you know he’s nervous - but why?
Was he thinking of Mei? The thought makes you feel sick; you have no reason to be jealous because you’re just his best friend and your feelings are a jumbled mess you can’t navigate through- you don’t even know what you want from him. He can’t fix what he doesn’t know is broken.
Your mind is absolutely blank as you stare down at your hands on your lap. You only snap out of it when a large hand engulfs yours, but you don’t dare to look at him. You can’t.
“Are you okay?”
There they are again; the stupid butterflies winding up in the confines of your stomach. “Yeah,” You remove his hands from yours, “I’m fine.”
Jake reluctantly lets you pull his hand away, knowing something’s wrong but he doesn’t want to push. You compose yourself and remind yourself about your words to Jake; this is his last school dance. It needs to be memorable.
So you’ll make it memorable.
As the night goes on with the food served and multiple performances happening, you’re able to loosen up and forget your worries.
“Do you want to join the dance floor?” Kairo asks as he eyes the growing dance floor.
“No.” You frantically respond, earning a look of judgment from Mei.
“Yes!” She exclaims, grabbing both you and Kairo before dragging you out of your seats with a gleeful giggle.
You try to grab on to Jake for help, but your hand merely grazes his as you’re pushed to the dance floor. On the dance floor, other people have jumped into the idea of dancing and in no time, it’s filled with dancing students.
A little while later, Jake joins the three of you and your little dance circle moves around each other for a few songs; you’re all laughing and you’re genuinely starting to enjoy yourself. Eventually, Kairo and Mei leave to go take a breather leaving you alone with Jake.
“Are you feeling any better?” He leans down to your ear and tries to speak over the loud music.
You nod, “Ye-”
You’re cut off by the loud upbeat music dying out and picking back up but this time a soft violin intro fills the room, you recognize the song instantly. The live orchestra begins playing the chorus of nobody gets me by Sza, you watch as everyone around you pairs up and when you turn around, Jake is already looking at you with a small smile tugging on his lips.
His ears are tinged pink as he offers you a shrug, “Do you wanna dance?” He holds out his hand to you.
You take it with baited breath and immediately at the touch, the butterflies are at it again. You step closer to him and place your other hand on his shoulder while his other goes to your back, where your skin is exposed.
He’s gone back to being unusually quiet again; he’s just leading you to the slow beat of the song and looking away, only meeting your eyes when he catches your lingering gaze.
“____, you’ve been out of it all night. Are you really okay?” He quietly asks, his brows furrowing.
“I…” For a moment, you consider confessing what’s weighing on your heart but you panic. How would he react if he knew?
“____?”
“I think I’m in love with you.” You blurt out, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as soon as the words come out. You feel a little lighter knowing you’ve said your peace but your heart races in panic as you wait for his response.
“Oh,”  Jake whispers. It could have been your imagination but you swear his eyes look just as dizzy and unfocused as your own. His lips part maybe to say something more, but close as quickly as they opened and his gaze flickers down to your lips.
“I-” You choke on your words, shame and regret instantly flooding your body. You want to curl up and hide in a hole but you can’t. Jake is holding on to you too tightly and you’ve already let the cat out of the bag. Might as well get it all off your chest. “I-I don’t know when it happened but I know my feelings aren’t platonic anymore. You’re all I can ever seem to think about, when you touch me it feels like butterflies are swimming in my stomach and the thought of you even being interested in someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”
You take a deep breath, “I think I’m in love with you Jake. I love the little things that make you Jake, your obsession with math and physics, your ability to make anyone you speak to feel truly seen, how you rely on God to get you through hardships you face.” You continue to drone on and on about the quirks you love about your best friend, not noticing the way his lips tip upward in a wide grin.
“I love you.” You confess.
“____?” He asks, voice even.
“Yeah?”
“Stay still.”
Jake steps forward and wraps his hand delicately around the back of your neck, he doesn’t miss the way your hooded eyes follow his movement. He stands up straighter, he’s so close that your noses brush against each other ever so slightly. 
The flush on Jake’s cheekbones is clear as day, a lovely rose pink.
He takes one final deep breath and leans in to plant a kiss on your awaiting lips. The moment your lips touch, you feel a spark of electricity jolt through your body but as quick as it comes, however, and before you can react, he’s already swiftly pulling away.
When the two of you pull back, your eyes are wide open, gaze fixed on Jake’s face, his lips left slightly parted. His entire body is vibrating with warmth and anxiety, hardly able to keep still.
Jake stares at you, still feeling the desire pooling in his stomach, and wonders if he had made a mistake.
“____,” Jake calls, quietly. “____.”
He begins to hold his breath. Did he overstep?
“Did you…” You begin, eyes wide, flickering rapidly across his face. “Did you…just…”
“Yeah,” Jake replies, his voice cracking a tad. “Yeah, I did.”
There’s a silence between the two of your for a long second before you collect your bearings and clear your throat and say,
“Do it again.”
Jake feels numb, unable to be shaken or moved by the world around him, so he steps back in and tilts his head to the side, kissing you once again like you asked. 
You can barely hear the crowd around you over the sound of your own heartbeat.  Jake kisses you softly, almost shyly. A gentle hand slides down to your hip, anchoring you in place, a solid touch while the rest of the world slowly fades away. 
You can’t think about anything other than the feeling of Jake’s lips finally on your own. You continue to kiss Jake until you feel his hand leave your hip and he gently pulls his lips away.
You keep your eyes shut for a second longer, body thrumming with warmth and energy, you feel Jake’s forehead knock against yours after a beat. When you finally open your eyes, like always, Jake was staring right back at you.
“I love you too.”
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Following prom you feel as though you’re on cloud nine. After your shared confessions and heated kisses Jake took you outside of the venue to discuss where things would go from here. He only had three more months left in Australia before he had to leave for Yale but he knew he would be a fool if he let you go.
The two of you came to the conclusion that you would take things slow and enjoy the little time you had together working towards being a couple and pick things back up once you graduated and made your way to the states to join Jake.
Things truly felt perfect, Jake would come by your home every now and then to take you on impromptu dates with a new bouquet everytime and an explanation on why he chose those specific flowers. On days where he was too busy getting ready for his upcoming semester to take you out, you would pack him little lunches and drive the two of you down to the park you would often visit in your childhood and have little picnics while listening to him go on about how excited he was for the physics program at Yale.
The people who had been in your lives and watched you grow up together were thrilled at the direction in which your relationship was going. Both your parents were delighted when Jake broke the news that you were officially seeing each other on a romantic level working towards eventually dating. You would often have Sunday brunch together after going to church with his family and yours before sneaking off to his room to cuddle on his bed for an afternoon nap.
Had you known this is what would come with confessing, you would have told Jake way sooner but sadly, time had passed and the date of Jake’s departure from Australia was fastly approaching. He has a week left and he’s determined to make it the best one yet.
“Let's road trip to Sydney.”
You stop fiddling with Jake's fingers and turn your head to look up at him from your position on his chest. “What?”
He smiles down at you before placing a quick kiss to your forehead. “You heard me, let’s take a road trip to Sydney.”
You playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah I heard you dummy but why?”
He shrugs and entwines your hands once more. “Why not? It’s my last week and we talked about road tripping down there for spring break but someone,” he pauses to poke at your side with his free hand drawing out some giggles form you his heart warming at the sound, “-just had to get sick the night before we were supposed to leave.”
You let out a groan, “you’re never going to let that go are you?” Jake hums, “absolutely not.”
You huff in thought, “it’s a nine hour drive Jake…”
He sits up forcing you to do the same as well, turning to face him. “We can take turns. Plus my flights’ leaving from Sydney, we could go to the airport together and have a proper goodbye without my parents bugging us.”
You bite down on your lip seriously considering Jake’s impromptu idea. Within the past three months you’ve had to share Jake with so many people- his soccer team, his orchestra friends, his family. Everyone. Alone time was scarce and the thought of a getaway to Sydney where it would be just the two of you and no distractions sounded lovely.
“Okay.”
“Okay? Just like that?”
You hum and move to sit on his lap and throw your hands over his shoulders. “Why not?”
A huge smile breaks out on Jake's face causing you to smile as well, something about seeing him happy always managed to bring you happiness. It should be scary, just how willing you are to sacrifice for Jake but for some reason you always throw caution to the wind the second he comes around. You’d give him the world if you could.
You feel Jake wrap his arms around your waist and slowly slide his hands under your shirt to caress your back. “What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?”
You begin playing with the hair on the nape of his neck and whisper out, “thinking bout’ how I'd give you the world.” Jake’s hands pause at the base of your back, clearly caught off guard, you look down at his eyes and see how dark they’ve gotten. Desire and love pooling in the hues of his brown eyes. “You are my world.”
He leans in as he finishes his sentence and places his lips on yours. The feeling of his lips is incredibly warm as he pushes them against yours, slightly chapped but otherwise still soft. The amount of emotion he puts into kissing you isn’t like anything you felt before, there’s more desire in this kiss compared to all the others you’ve shared. The feeling of his tongue sweeping against the plumpness of your lower lip and the heat from his body sends butterflies to your stomach.
His hands fall down to your hips, pushing up your t-shirt to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms with battered breaths before pushing you back. He makes quick work of flipping you so your back is now on the mattress and it’s him straddling you. You gasp at the feeling of the soft mattress beneath you, his body pinning you deeper back as he continues exploring your mouth with his own.
You pull back slightly, breathing heavily and your lips red and plump with saliva. Jake smirks at the sight, his thumb coming up to pull down your bottom lip with the tip of his finger before moving his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck.
The strands of his hair are silky beneath your fingertips, gasping and tugging at the roots as he bites down on a certain area of your neck that makes your core clench.
“Jaeyun,” you whisper, whimpering at the feeling of his palm applying pressure lightly against your navel. “Are we-?”
He slowly pulls away from you and adamantly shakes his head. “No.” you whine in protest as he pulls away and lays beside you once more. He pulls you close to his chest before confessing to you. “I want our first time to be romantic, not some quick fuck in my bedroom.” He kisses your temple. “You deserve more than that.”
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The Following Day - 1:36PM
“Ready to head out?” 
You whirl around to find Jake standing in front of you and your parents, having just finished packing your suitcases in the trunk of his car and is now looking over at you with a tilt in his head. 
You nod and smile brightly. “Of course,” You say, turning to your mom and dad to bid them one fast farewell. “I was just saying bye.” 
He nods in understanding, waving to your parents, “I promise we’ll be safe and if anything happens you’ll be the first we call.” He says to reassure your parents, more so your dad who was a bit more hesitant to the last minute idea.
Your dad nods stiffly at Jake, “take good care of her. No drinking or scandalous activities, I’m not ready for any grandchildren.”
You gasp at your dads words and swat at his chest. “Dad! Stop embarrassing me!” He only tisks in your direction.
“You know what's more embarrassing? Having to finish your senior year pregn-”
“-Ahhh. Dad, stop it! I promise we’ll make smart choices!”
He chortles at your flushed expression and leans in for a hug. “I’m only messing with you.” You hug him back before pulling away to give your mother a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.
“See you in a week!”
After pulling away Jake steps forward to hug your parents goodbye as well.
“Be safe Jake, we’ll miss seeing you so often! Make sure to call us if you ever need anything once in the states, okay?” Your mom softly says to him as she holds his face in her hands, tears slowly filling her eyes. Over the years Jake has slowly become like a son to her, she was used to cooking extra knowing he’d come over for dinner after your tutoring sessions. She had even turned one of the spare bedrooms into a personal room for Jake, allowing him to sleepover when his parents were out of town for business.
You can only imagine how much she's going to miss him, maybe as much as you know you’ll be missing him.
He nods and sniffs, is he crying too? “Of course auntie, I’m really going to miss our Friday night movie marathons.”
You smile bitterly beginning to fight back tears of your own. Your father was always away for weekend meetings in Melbourne starting Friday night into Saturday evening and as captain of the varsity volleyball team you had late night practices every Friday meaning you wouldn’t be back home until the dead of night and your mother was left all alone. Jake, having nothing to do once classes were done would often go over to your home to keep her company so she wouldn’t be all alone in your home. It was a little tradition the two kept up over the years.
You hadn't given yourself time to really mourn the idea of being separated from Jake for an entire year but watching him say his tearful goodbyes to your parents is really putting into perspective just how entwined your lives are. He’s your everything and how he’s leaving, how are you going to manage your senior year without your best friend?
 “We should get going.” 
“Mhmm.” You look over at Jake and reach a hand out to wipe away his fallen tears. “It’s okay.” 
The two of you say one last goodbye before getting into Jake’s range rover, you look out the window to see your parents waving you off. You slide back into the passenger seat of his car and put on your seatbelt now processing the fact that this is the last week you have with Jake.
There is a silence as Jake is starting the car, and a part of you wants to die. On one hand you want to cry and beg him to stay but on the other you know if you do, Jake will differ his offer and take a year off to be with you. That’s the last thing you want, he deserves happiness. That’s all you’ve ever wanted for him. If that means braving a smile for now while your heart is in turmoil so be it.
Jake is the first to break the silence.
“That was a lot harder than I thought it would be.” He drives down your driveway before making a right to pull into the neighborhood.
“Goodbyes are never easy.”
“Yeah but…I didn't cry when saying bye to my parents but something about your parents made leaving seem all the more ...real?”
“It’s only natural, you spent more time with us. You’re like their second child.”
Jake hums in thought, “I don’t think I’lll survive having to say goodbye to you.”
You purse your lips thinking about what your goodbye would be like. Would there be tears? Unspoken words? “I think you’ll be just fine.” You reach out for his right hand that lays on the gear shift and hold it tightly. “It’s only temporary.”
The next nine hours are spent singing old 90’s love songs and making pit stops every now and then to stock up on some new snacks and to switch off so Jake isn’t so tired. During your third stop is when Jake pulls out a camera and begins vlogging the remainder of the trip claiming it would be nice to look back at it once the trip is over.
Once you finally make it to your destination, you pull into the driveway and place the car in park before looking around at your surroundings. The home is modern with nothing but natural light, it’s surrounded by trees to still give you enough privacy but it’s secluded from the other homes on the lane.
“Oh my gosh it’s so pretty.”
You open the door and immediately extend your legs out onto the solid ground beneath you. You let out a sigh of satisfaction and Jake laughs from next to you. 
He’s opening his own car door soon after, but he straightens up into a standing position pretty quickly and stretches upwards. He closes the car door behind him, watching as you eventually pull yourself together to do the same. 
You turn to face him. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” You gesture towards the airbnb and earn a nod from Jake, who mentions something about doing the same thing. You meet back at the car a few minutes later. 
Jake gestures to the trees surrounding the home. “Want to take a walk around the area? I think I saw a park when we pulled into the neighborhood.” 
You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.” 
“Why don’t you get started? I’ll catch up.” Jake watches you leave, before opening the trunk of his car and rummaging around. 
He does catch up with you, quickly enough that you hardly notice that he had sent you out first. You hear his footsteps, and the call of your name, causing you to turn around. “Jake!” 
The sight before you makes you smile brightly. Standing before you is Jake, with his polaroid in hand. The lens is pointed right at you. As soon as you’re staring straight into the camera, Jake grins. “Say cheese” 
You giggle and close your eyes before making a little peace sign. You hear the little click and the flash illuminates your face. You open your eyes to find Jake smiling down at the little printed picture waiting for it to develop. “I can’t believe you brought that.”
“I’m a photographer at heart, what did you expect?” Jake teases back. “Besides, it’s really pretty around here. I need some pictures for my dorm.” 
You blush at the thought of him putting up a picture of you on his dorm wall. The pair of you begin to make your way to the park, taking in the view from different angles. The stroll is mostly just to get rid of the pent up energy, but it’s still a nice view to admire. As soon as you arrive at the park you ditch Jake to run to the swing set.
“Push me?”
Jake rolls his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief but still walks behind you to push you forward.
“Did you know my brother and I got in trouble with our mom because of how high we would swing you?” Jake giggles, “she was worried we’d push you too high and you’d go flying.”
“I blame your brother. He turns everything into a competition.”
“So do you!” Jake exclaims. You quickly stop the swing with your feet to turn back at him with a judgmental look on your face. “When we were a little older and Jaehyun left us to push each other you would get annoyed that I didn't push you as hard as you did for me.”
“It's true though.”
You scoffed, “at least I didn’t actually push you off your seat.”
He laughs at the memory, “we’re stronger now, do you wanna see who can go higher?”
“knowing exactly how strong you are… uh, not really? but whatever, let’s do it!” you brace yourself on the swing and start pulling yourself back to get momentum.
“Okay, wait! Wait!” he rushes to the seat beside yours and pushes it as far as his hips can go, already giving him an advantage. “Okay, go!”
Childish laughter escapes both of you as you let yourselves swing back and forth, trying to put your weight in properly to reach higher than each other. it really felt like you were kids again, you felt at peace, a part of you never wanted this night to end.
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The next few days fly by and just like that it’s the night before Jake’s flight. You had spent your time in Sydney visiting the opera house, late night dinner dates and excursions all over the bustling city. There truly never was a dull moment within this week that’s come to pass. Getting to make new memories with Jake is exactly what you needed.
The two of you have just gotten back from dinner at Altitude, a restaurant overlooking the opera house. You’re now in your shared bathroom dressed in one of Jake’s old tee’s and a thong doing your nightly skin care routine as Jake undresses in the bedroom, getting ready for his nightly shower. You look at his reflection through the mirror as he takes off his shirt. Your eyes skim down his toned chest, desire pooling in the pits of your stomach. Throughout your time here it’s been nothing but makeouts and little pecks throughout the day. You wonder if he’ll finally make a move tonight.
“I can feel you staring, love.”
“That’s the point.”
Jake doesn’t say anything in response but rather slides up behind you and peppers your neck with gentle kisses. He cages you between his body and sink and presses his hips into your back. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his fully hard cock pressing against your lower back.
Jake’s eyes rake your body through the mirror, desire burning in his irises. he shifts his eyes to stare at your lips before moving back to turn you around and face him and press himself directly to your front before leaning down and in. He takes his time, giving you the opportunity to pull away but you don’t. You want this.
He leans forward and allows his lips to graze yours, the faintest of touches. “Are you sure you want to do this darling? We don't have to.” Jake asks softly.
You shyly nod your head and lean in to close the gap but he pulls ways and shakes his head, “no love. I need to hear you say yes.”
“Yes, I want to do this, Jaeyun.” You push forward allowing your lips to touch. He groans once your lips make contact. You’re unable to focus on anything other than the feeling of his lips on yours.
You can faintly taste the shirley temple he had at dinner on his tongue. He sucks harder on your lip and brings one hand down in between your things to prod at your pulsing heat.
He pulls away to let his eyes drink in the sight of you before leaning down to pick you up. you let out a yelp and grasp onto his biceps for protection, “w-what are you doing?” You sputter.
“I can’t make love to you properly on the sink, darling.”
You blush at his words and bury your face into his chest, after a few strides Jake is gingerly placing you on the bed.
He gets onto his knees and straddles your hips before reaching out to help you out of your shirt. You breathe in deeply savoring the way he feels pressed against you. the feeling of his warm fingers moving under the hem of your shirt across your stomach. He lifts it off of your body and tosses it across the room.
“Thank you for trusting me with your body.” Jake says before leaning back in and places his lips on yours yet again.
You moan into the kiss before he trails kisses down your jaw to your neck, his teeth brushing over your skin and making you shiver regardless of the heat being provided by Jake’s skin pushed up against yours. You close your eyes and relish the feeling.
With his lips still pressed against your neck, he whispers, “what do you want love?”
Your eyes flutter open as he slowly pulls away to look at you.
“I won’t do anything until you tell me what you want.” He reiterates before placing his lips back onto your neck, biting down making it harder for you to form a coherent sentence.
“I-i don’t know.” You say breathily but he chuckles in your ear, “yes you do love, tell me what you want so I can make you feel good.” He says as he gently tugs at your underwear, you whine and raise your hips off the bed to allow him to take it off faster. He tisks, “I need to hear you say it.” You look up at him to meet his gaze, “I want you to touch me.”
His gaze hardens, “spread your legs doll.” He orders.
He shifts his position and allows you to spread your legs before slotting himself in between them. He taps his fingers against your hips silently asking you to raise them. You shyly lift them to the best of your ability and let him pull them off of you, your arousal clinging to your underwear and clit.
Once you’re completely naked, he brings his lips to your chest and roughly kisses your skin, his tongue probing at your nipple. You whimper when he bites your left nipple, the feeling overwhelming. He pulls back and looks at your bare body.
“Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles before leaning down to toy with your pussy.
“You’re so wet too. Did our kissing turn you on so much, love?” Jake asks, smirking down at you. your face heats up at his words but you don’t respond. He looks back down at your pussy and shifts his position so he’s laying down in front of your pussy. He lets his pointer finger circle your clit for a little before running it along the slit of your folds. You let out a mewl at the feeling wanting more. “P-please Ja..” You moan.
“Patience, love.”
He dips one finger into you and you hiss at the feeling. It’s been a while since you’ve been touched down there and you’re extremely sensitive. “You’re so tight,” he says, pushing his finger deeper until the entire digit is buried snuggly inside you. You close your eyes and tug at the bedsheets, loving the feeling of him fingering you.
You’re a moaning mess by the time he manages to slide his whole finger into you. You clench around his fingers as he slides them in and out of your snatch and grasp onto your bedsheets. “Does it feel nice to be stuffed with my fingers?” Jake asks.
You know your voice will fail you so you adamantly nod your head. Jake picks up the pace and your hips move to his strokes. Jake licks his lips when he feels your walls clenching tightly around his digits.
“I-i think I’m close.”
His fingers curl inside of you which causes your hips to jerk upwards. “Are you cunning?” He asks cheekily.
You nod eagerly, “yes!” your eyes snap shut as you enjoy the feeling, “o-oh my gosh” you cry as you feel him kiss the inside of your thighs. He trails the kisses upwards until he’s face to face with your pussy and places a soft kiss on the nub before sucking on it, his tongue flicking around. He pulls his pointer and middle finger out so he can eat you out freely.
He licks the slit of your folds and firmly grips the flesh of your thighs most likely leaving marks.  Marks that would remind you of this moment later on.
Jake picks up the pace, he’s going so fast that you let out a quiet scream. You fist and unfist your sheets as you rock your hips against his face and come.
Your orgasm hits you so hard that tears fill your vision.
Jake allows you to ride out your high before coming up from your private parts and leans back down to place a chaste kiss on your lips.
“Are you feeling alright love?” He asks as he strokes your hair. You’re heaving, trying to catch your breath.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to continue?”
You nod but then remember Jake wants verbal responses, “I do.”
Jake wastes no time in removing his shorts and boxers and gently moves up your body. you wrap your arms around his neck. “C-can you be gentle?” You sheepishly ask.
Your question sends an immediate reaction to Jake’s dick, he swears he could have busted a nut right then and there. “Of course doll, I'll be gentle.”
He tentatively strokes your folds with two fingers, eyes darting back up to yours to check your response. You hiss, still a bit sensitive. “Is this okay? Are you sensitive?”
“I’m fine,” you assure, “go ahead, I’m okay.”
He nods, gathering some of your wetness and smears it on his cock, a moan of relief leaving his swollen lips. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be buried inside of you,” he says, angling himself better and positioning his cock near your entrance.
“Please,” you whimper, biting back a cry once his length breaches your entrance. Jake lets out a guttural growl, slowly sinking into you and bottoming out letting you adjust to his length.
“You’re so beautiful.” Jake says, rolling his hips torturously slow. “You were made for me, love. Just for me.”
You open your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready, you can move now.”
Jake leans forward to place a kiss on your cheek, then on your jaw, and then on your neck. As Jake busies himself there he slowly begins to thrusts in and out of you.
Your hands are all over him; clawing his back, gripping his biceps. “Love,” he whispers, “you feel so good.”
The sound of your bodies slapping against each other plus your loud wanton moans and the creaking from the bed is all that can be heard reverberating around in the home. He thrusts two more times, his hips stuttering before he chokes out, “mm gonna cum.”
You scratch at his sides and bite your lip to suppress your moan, “m-me too.”
“You can cum love,” Jake coos. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you closer to his body, the feeling of your chest pressed against him and his dick pounding into you is enough to send you over the edge.
“I’m cumming!” You mumble into his skin. Jake groans at the feeling of you cumming on his dick before his hips still and he comes inside you painting your walls white.
His lips are on your shoulders and neck, softly sucking on patches of your skin and murmuring sweet nothings as you calm down.
“Fuck.”
Jake pulls out and looks down at the mess of the sheets, now that he’s no longer caught up in his lustful haze it dawns on him that the two of you didn’t use protection. So much for smart choices.
As if now remembering yourself you shrug, “I’ll just grab a plan b tomorrow.”
Jake nods, “I’ll send you the money for it.”
His body then drops to lay beside you and he pulls you in close with the promise of a hot shower after a few minutes of decompressing. You roll over and sit up, swatting Jake’s hands away as he reaches for your arm. “Wait, I have something for you.”
He hums, interest piqued. “Huh?”
You open the bedside drawer where you had hidden the card you had written for Jake before the two of you left Brisbane. It was a love letter, all the things you’ve ever wanted to tell him but kept to yourself out of fear. It holds all the words your heart so desperately wants to tell him before he leaves.
“It’s not anything extravagant but I know you care more for sentimental things anyway.” You hand him the card, “don’t read it until you’re on the plane.”
He looks at the light pink envelope decorated in stickers and his name written in neat calligraphy in the center, the faintest smile on his face but a hint of sadness in his eyes.
“I love you.”
The way he says it sounds different from all the other times he’s ever told you. Almost as if he needs to convince you that he loves you but you know. He places one last kiss to your lips before pulling you back down to cuddle.
“I’m going to miss you.”
Jake hums, “me too.”
The room slips into a comforting silence and eventually you drift off.
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8:41am
You wake up feeling cold. You whine and feel around for Jake’s body but when you feel nothing you open your eyes and softly call out for him. “Jake?”
When you’re met with no response you sit up and look around the still dark room. You stand from the bed and reach for your shirt that was still on the ground. You hadn’t intended to fall asleep, it was only meant to be a quick nap before the two of you took a shower together and watched movies until it was time for you to head to the airport.
“Jake? If you’re trying to scare me, give up.”
You’re still met with silence and you begin to feel uneasy. “Jake?”
You search the living room and your heart drops. His things are gone, his shoes, his suitcases. Everything. You run back to the room to see if it’s really true, if Jake left without saying goodbye. What you find breaks your heart even more. All his toiletries are gone, all that's left are your belongings. You let out a sob when you find the love letter you had written for him laying atop his pillow, opened and crumpled at the sides, proof he had read it but didn’t care enough to take it with him.
You drop on to the bed in shock and disbelief, tears sitting in your waterline. You turn to look beside you, staring at the letter as if it had burned you, the only trace that Jake was ever here is his scent in the sheets. You look at the alarm clock to see if you’ll be able to make it to the airport on time and bid him a proper farewell, your heart sinks once again when you realize you’re far too late. It’s 8:50 and his flight leaves in ten minutes. You sniff and decide to not dwell on it, Jake probably had his reasons and you have to get ready to go home.
You strip out of your shirt and discard it on the floor before walking into the bathroom to start your shower. You step into the shower, toes flinching as they touch the chilled ceramic floor. Your mind is in shreds; how could Jake leave without a goodbye? You turn the dial, releasing thousands of frigid drops, wetting your hair and trickling down your back. Your eyes fall closed and images of last night cross your mind.
You want to scream. Did last night not mean as much to him as it did to you? Was this all so he could fuck and just leave? You wrap up your shower and step out to brush your teeth. When finished, you dry off and head for your suitcase to pick out an outfit. You settle on sweatpants and an old graphic tee with slides. Once dressed and ready for your journey back, you finish your packing and look around the house one last time to see if maybe Jake left anything for you, maybe even an explanation. All you find is a plan b box on the kitchen counter next to a water bottle. You pick up the pill box and exit promptly and throw your things in the back of Jake’s car. You look down at the passenger seat where the letter you had written for him sits. You pick it up and examine it one last time before shoving it deep into your backpack.
Maybe this was less painful than having to say goodbye.
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It in fact was not less painful. A day passed, then two, then a week, then a month. You stared at your phone at all hours of the day, calling and texting waiting for confirmation that he had arrived safely and an explanation on why he went ghost but it never came.
You started your senior year alone. That was the first time you ever realized just how dependent you were on Jake, you had no other friends to go to the movies with, you spent your senior appreciation week alone, you had no one to make plans with when the weekend would roll around. Maybe you should have made deeper connections. You slowly started to lose sight of the end goal, Harvard had always been your dream but your mind was in too much turmoil to see it meaning anything without Jake, your heart can’t stand to be near him but not have a connection to him. You had heard from his mother that he had settled in at Yale and was enjoying his time abroad. You never told your parents what happened down in Sydney, you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it without crying.
Eventually you began to decline, your grades took a hit and your GPA dropped from the perfect 4.5 it had been sitting at for the past four years to a 3.2. You started failing your core classes and you were kicked off of the varsity volleyball team. Your parents couldn’t understand the sudden change in you. You stopped talking to them, stopped going to your tutoring sessions and stopped caring about life itself. You would only go to school when you felt like it and come straight home before locking yourself in your bedroom. When time came to send in your college applications you didn’t know what to do. You knew Harvard wouldn’t want you and you never considered any other options. You sat down with your guidance counselor and she gave you some options. The majority consisted of staying in Australia, letting you know it didn’t seem possible to go abroad. You limited your application process to four schools, two in Australia and two in Massachusetts. If Harvard didn’t want you, maybe a private school would grant you admission and you could transfer in your sophomore year.
As much as you wanted to be far away from him, Massachusetts happened to have all the top schools that were realistic for you. You applied to Northeastern and Boston college. Neither were the ivy leagues you were hoping to attend but private institutions nonetheless. You sent in your applications for early action, praying you would get in and get to leave Australia behind. You were suffocating here.
Luckily for you, your acceptance letter came from Northeastern and you were quick to accept. You were waitlisted for Boston College and accepted to both Australian unis but you had decided where you were going. You toured Northeastern in the spring with your mom, you both absolutely fell in love with the campus. It was right in the middle of the city, across from the train system making getting around easy. You got to meet the girl you would be dorming with, Avianca; Avi for short. She was very bubbly and sweet, and very opinionated. She had grown up in Boston with her mother and two brothers. Her mother was unable to join the two of you so you went out to brunch with her and your mother. After that your mother left the two of you to go shopping for some things for your dorm.
“Are you excited to start in the fall?” Avi asked as the two of you browsed targets room decor.
You shrug and hug yourself, “I guess.”
Avi stops to look at a large beige throw pillow, “that's all? Aren’t you excited for the new experiences?” She looks up at you, “the boys?”
You play with the tag of the pillow in her hand. “I-” you hesitate and she picks up on it.
“Unless…” she smirks up at you, “you have a boyfriend?”
You pause. Could you even consider Jake a boyfriend? He never officially asked you to be his girlfriend but the two of you did way more than what other couples do in a lifetime. As if reading your mind Avi hums.
“Ahh, I see. It’s complicated?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
She tosses the pillow into the cart, “is it over?”
You continue walking down the aisle as you think back to Jake, this would be your first time ever saying what went down outloud. You were hesitant to tell your parents because of how close they were with Jake, you didn't want this affecting their perspective of him but Avi doesn’t know him, she’s unbiased. And that’s how you found yourself crying inside a target finally opening up about just how hurt you were by Jake’s actions.
Once you finish telling her your story from start to finish, Avi is embracing you. “Jake is a dick. You did not deserve that. I’m so sorry.”
Avi spends the rest of your time together comforting you. She lets you rant about Jake and gives you her two cents every now and then. You felt a little embarrassed at how much you were crying but Avi was quick to reassure you letting you know it was actually time you let it all out. The two of you exchanged numbers before parting ways again and she made you promise to keep in touch with her while you were back home in Australia until your move-in day and that's exactly what you did.
After flying back home you slowly started to rebuild. Jake isn’t a part of your life anymore and you can’t continue to wallow in your self pity. It was time to let go and move on, you would be starting your freshman year of college in four months. You don’t want to be stuck up on someone who wasn’t even thinking of you.
You took the time to learn new hobbies as you didn’t have volleyball to lean on. You took up baking for a bit before getting bored and moving on to painting. You learned how to knit and made yourself some mittens and a scarf to prepare for the cold Boston weather. You even took up photography, opening up a private instagram account to post your pictures as you traveled around Europe during June. It was a graduation gift from your father, you had stops in France, Wales, Germany and Spain. You spent a month traveling before heading back south.
You flew to New Zealand before officially going home to explore the mountains, it was a nice reset. Jake had promised to visit with you but it never happened and you weren’t putting things on hold for him anymore. You would facetime with Avi every night, brainstorming ideas for your room and your plans for welcome week. She had no intention of staying in your dorm that first week before classes started.
At first you were hesitant, going to raves and frat parties meant the inevitable. The possibility of running into Jake would be significantly higher and if you didn’t run into him there was still the fact that you would be approached by some man before the night was over. You had expressed to Avi how you couldn’t see yourself entering a relationship anytime soon. You had yet to fully heal from Jake and the thought of being that vulnerable again terrified you.
She only listened before reminding you that you didn’t have to date every guy that said hi. Some below the belt touching and harmless flirting never hurt anyone. She went on to ramble about how you’re entering your prime and have an insanely hot aussie accent that could help you secure any guy you wanted. You zoned out once she started asking you if you could moan for her so she could take pointers.
Your parents could see the shift in you and it brought them relief, they felt more at ease to send you abroad now that you were in a better mental headspace. You left two weeks before classes started to move in and get accustomed to the new environment. Your parents came to help you and Avi move in before leaving to go back home.
It’s now nighttime and you’ve just officially finished decorating.
“So, there’s this rave at slackers tonight, wanna go?”
You turn to look at Avi from your bed as she sits at her desk organizing her makeup. You snort, “as if I have a choice.” She looks up at you grinning.
“Glad you’re aware! Now get up and go shower, you’re all sweaty and doors close at 8!”
You roll your eyes but listen to her nonetheless. You stumble out of your bed and walk towards your closet to try and brainstorm what to wear. “Is there a theme?”
Avi hums, “yeah early 2000’s.”
You scan your wardrobe to see what you can find before deciding upon a baby blue butterfly top you had gotten off of amazon and a mini cargo skirt. For shoes you settle on some old Nike air forces knowing they would be demolished by the end of the night. You head over to the bathroom and begin getting ready. You try not to take too long, making sure to properly wash your body but you don’t take the time to exfoliate. Once drying off and exiting you make quick work of getting dressed and sitting beside Avi to start your makeup while she works on styling her hair. You don’t take too long for your makeup, choosing to opt for a more natural look and go for a half up/half down hairstyle with two strands out in the front.
Once you’re both ready, you grab your student ID’s and bags before heading out and start the five minute walk to the T. As you’re waiting for the train to arrive you take pictures with Avi to post and make a new story post of the sun setting. Once the green train arrives the two of you hop on and head towards the party venue.
By the time you arrive, the line is still relatively short and you’re inside in under thirty minutes. You scan your surroundings, the club lights are too bright and strobing too fast, just asking for someone to seize. The dance floor is crowded with people and there are drunks stumbling all around you.
Avi spins on her heels and smirks up at you, “what are the odds you get a stranger to buy us drinks?”
You quickly shake your head. “Zero! I’ve never done this before Avi!”
She shrugs, “so? Have you seen yourself? You look so hot, ____.” She makes it a point to slap your ass. “You have all the right assets on display, you just have to use them to your advantage.”
You gasp and rub your sore bottom, “okay one, never do that again. Two, why don’t you get a guy to buy us drinks? Put those tits to good use.”
She smirks. “I was already planning on it. But seriously, I promised to help you get over Jake and what better way to do that than getting under a new man?”
You groan. “Sleeping around isn’t going to help me get over Jake.”
“What makes you think he hasn’t done the same?” You furrow your brows at her and she scoffs. “Come on ____, he’s been in the city for a year while you were on the other side of the world. Jake is hot and I’m sure he knows it just like other girls in Connecticut probably do too, what would really have stopped him from getting his dick wet?”
You stay silent, deep down you know Avi is just being truthful and realistic. Jake had no obligations to you and no one to get in his way of whoring around if he really wanted to as much as it may hurt you.
“Okay.”
Avi’s brows shoot up in shock. “Okay? That’s really all it took?”
You nod firmly, “I’m done putting my life on pause for him. Besides, a little flirting never hurt anyone, right?”
Avi squeals and claps her hands together. “Perfect! I better see you throwing it back on some guy before the night ends!”
The two of you decide to part ways to find your prey of the night. Avi makes quick work of heading to the bar where the older men are to see if she can score some drinks while you idle around the dance floor, scoping out the faces to see who you wanted to make a move on. Before you can set your sights on someone, you feel the warmth of a body behind you though they’re not quite pressing against you yet. It doesn’t feel bad, and neither do the fingertips ghosting along the curve of your waist. You press into their touch a little more. The tentative fingers at your waist get more firm once they realize you’re open to their touch.
“Wanna dance?,” the body behind you asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear. It makes chills prick at your skin. You bite your lip to keep from smiling at the sensation. Your hand goes to cover the bigger one on your waist. You’ve missed being this close to someone. 
You intentionally keep the touch constant when you turn around in their hold. Their palm slides along your body till it’s settling on your lower back just above the swell of your ass.
When you look up, your reply gets caught in your throat.
The owner of the warm body behind you is handsome, strikingly so. Tall, strong. Smile dreamy with dimples, and eyes dark. He gives you a soft grin accompanied by an encouraging nod, wanting you to say what you can’t seem to get out.
“Uh–” you sputter with a wince, before clearing your throat, “Where’s the fun in asking?”
You can’t hear his laugh over the music, but you can tell he’s amused by the way his chest rumbles, and how his eyes curl. The hand at the base of your spine moves to your hip, squeezing gently.
His other hand is moving, too, and you track it until it’s tucking some hair behind your ear. You go still and flush when he leans down to your ear again. “If you insist,” he tells you. You don’t get to respond before he’s forcefully turning you back around and pressing his body into yours. The song changes to an upbeat caribbean mix and the sexy stranger has you bent over, one hand in your hair as a makeshift ponytail and the other resting at the base of your spine as he sensually moves his hips to the beat of the song, practically humping you. You can feel yourself getting wet as his clothed dick brushes against your vagina, your miniskirt and thong barely hiding anything. You begin whining your waist to meet his thrust giving those around you a show. Soon, a circle forms around the two of you as people turn on their camera to film. When the song finally ends the two of you separate and the crowd disperses. Some guys stick around though, hoping you would part form your dance partner and give them a chance to feel you humping them but you never get the chance. The stranger leans down to your ear, “I’m Jungwon.”
You smirk and respond with your name. “I’m, ____. Clearly you’ve done this before Jungwon.” 
Jungwon briefly looks surprised, eyes widening like a child before he’s laughing. “Ah,” he muses, guiding your arms to drape over his shoulders, your hands interlocking behind his neck. His hands do the same around your waist as he pulls you a little closer. “Perhaps but clearly the same goes for you.”
There’s a flutter in your tummy that you haven’t felt in months and it’s exciting. Makes you giddy as you blink up at him sultrily.
“Are you complaining?” you ask him.
He adamantly shakes his head, “Of course not, as long as you’re not in a relationship no complaints over here.”
You cock your head to the side. “I don’t do relationships.” You wait a beat before asking, “Is that what you’re looking for?”
He looks up like he’s thinking. Then he’s shrugging. Crowding your space, cheek brushing yours as he talks into your ear again, he answers, “I want what you want.”
Jungwon doesn’t move out of your space like the times he did before, instead pulling you into him a bit more, making your space his space too. Lips brush against the corner of your jaw, just below your ear. Teasing, yet sure. 
“I want to forget–” Your hand twines into the hair at the nape of his neck when he nips softly at your earlobe, making you gasp quietly, interrupting yourself. “–about someone.”
He lets out a smug sound of understanding. “That sounds doable,” you hear him say, before he purrs confidently, “Let me help you.”
Just as the two of you lean in for a kiss you’re interrupted by the calling of your name.
“____!” You pull away to find Avi stumbling towards you. When she’s close enough, she grips onto your shoulders to try and keep herself up. “H-help.”
You look at her in worry and try to balance her but she’s quickly becoming more and more unstable, her words slurring and her body becoming limp. You begin to panic, “Avi? Avi! You’re scaring me, what's wrong!?”
Jungwon steps in to help you hold her up. “Shit, I think she was laced.”
Your eyes dart to his in worry, sensing your panic Jungwon tries to calm you down. “There’s a hospital nearby. I’ll call an uber and we can head over.”
You nod, trying to steady yourself for Avi’s sake. The two of you make quick work of ushering her out of the building and outside to help her get some fresh air while Jungwon orders the uber. It’s there in seven minutes and the three of you rush to the nearest children's hospital.
Once you arrive, Jungwon hands over Avi to the medical staff while you try and give them the information they need to admit her. She’s rushed into the emergency bay while you and Jungwon are told to sit in the waiting area while they pump her stomach.
“It’s going to be okay. We got her here in time, I’m sure the doctors have everything under control.” Jungwon says as he takes a seat beside you. It’s clear you’re distraught and don’t know what to do but it’s also clear that what you need right now is not only reassurance but a friend. Your shoulders slump instantly and you nod despondently. Cautiously Jungwon entwines your hands together, lacing your fingers with his.
He shifts, leaning his body into you allowing you to cuddle into him for some warmth, your lack of proper clothing clearly not helping. You bite your lip to keep in the tears before resting your head against his shoulder. You close your eyes, basking in his comforting presence, letting both his words and presence wash over you and ease your worries.
The both of you sit in silence for long, drawn-out moments before you finally speak up. “I’m sorry, this probably isn’t how you wanted to spend your night.” You pull away and wrap your arms around yourself, “you can go if you’d like.”
Sensing your guilt and apprehension, Jungwon shakes his head softly and removes his bomber jacket to hand to you. You stare at it for a second before taking it and putting it on. “It definitely isn’t how I saw my night going but you clearly need a friend, it wouldn’t be right to leave you alone.”
You twiddle your fingers, “why are you being so nice to me?”
He purses his lips in thought, showcasing his dimples. “Like I said before, it’s clear you need a friend. You’re obviously going through something with a guy you probably really like and your friend is in the hospital after getting laced. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”
You blink at him, embarrassed that he read you so easily. “I-” You cut yourself off and look away, feeling the tears start to well up. “I feel so lost and alone.”
Jungwon slowly reaches for you and brings you in for a hug, letting you cry into his chest. “I moved to this stupid city all by myself and now I miss my parents, I miss my home and worst of all I miss him. Avi is the only friend I have and I can’t help but feel like her being in this position is all my fault! She only wanted to go out to help me move on a-and we made this stupid bet about getting guys to buy us drinks and now she’s getting her stomach pumped!” You angrily rant to Jungwon, overwhelmed by the events that have transpired within the last twenty-four hours.
He listens, gently rubbing your back as you let it all out. “It’s normal to miss your life back at home, going to college is hard enough, let alone having to move to a different continent. I understand the guilt you’re feeling but I doubt Avi is mad at you for what happened, you weren’t the one who drugged her.”
You sniffle and wipe at your nose with the sleeve of his jacket, “I guess so.” You pull away from his wet chest to wipe away the remainder of your tears. “I’m scared.” You softly admit.
“Of what?”
“Being alone again.” You whisper, you can’t help but wonder if Jungwon will stay after this, if Avi will be okay enough to stay for the semester. You pray you don’t lose either of them.
“Good thing I don’t plan on leaving.” Jungwon offers with a soft smile, you look up at him gratefully and wrap him in a hug.
“Thank you.”
The two of you spend the rest of the night in the ER, the doctors eventually come to fetch the two of you to join Avi, letting you know that she’ll be just fine and able to return home the following day. Jungwon stays true to his word and doesn’t leave your side until it’s time for Avi to get discharged. The three of you clamber into the back of the Uber Jungwon ordered and drive to your dorms. While sitting at Avi’s bedside the three of you began conversing about anything and everything. You found out that Jungwon was also a freshman at Northeastern majoring in Biochem. On top of that, he was living in the same dorm as you-his room only two doors down.
Once you arrive, you bid farewell to Jungwon with the promise of grabbing breakfast with him and his roommate Beomgyu the following morning before heading into your own room.
“He’s cute.” Avi says as she gently takes a seat on the couch.
“Jungwon?”
She hums, “sweet kid.”
You nod absentmindedly as you gather your bathroom supplies. “I guess so.”
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Friday November 15th - present day
Three months have passed since the beginning of the semester and it’s safe to say that you’re beginning to feel at home in the city. Jungwon stayed true to his word and didn’t leave you. In fact, there was never a moment where you were alone. If you weren’t at Snell studying with Jungwon, you were at your dorm watching shows with Avi or at the dining hall grabbing lunch with Beomgyu. 
The four of you have truly become inseparable these past few months and you’re so grateful for the support they provide. It’s nice to finally have other people to rely on rather than having to rawdog life alone. When the four of you aren’t absolutely swamped with homework you grab dinner together at one of the dining halls before going back to your place for a movie night. Tonight happens to be one of those nights.
“Wollastans hands down has the best snack options,” Beomgyu says as he empties the grocery bag onto your living room floor. Avi hums and takes a seat beside him on the floor in front of the TV.
“That they do.” She reaches for the pack of gummy bears and offers some to Jungwon who’s laid on your couch arms wide open as he smiles up at you waiting for you to take your rightful seat in between his legs. He takes a handful of gummies and thanks Avi before patting his chest.
“Hurry up princess, I'm getting cold.”
You scoff and roll your eyes before kicking off your shoes and making your way across the threshold to plop down in between his arms. “What are we watching tonight?” You ask. Jungwon taps your cheek silently asking you to open up, you do and he plops a cherry bear into your mouth.
“Interview with the vampires.” Beomgyu replies as he ques up the show. Once it’s ready to go Avi hands you a blanket to cover yourself with before she cuddles up to Beomgyu, the two of them whispering to each other lost in their own world. You smile softly at them, you and Jungwon have a running bet of how long it was going to take before the two crack and just get together. They’re adamant that they’re just friends but it’s clear as day feelings are there.
You feel Jungwon wrap his arm securely around your waist before he places a soft kiss atop your head.
As touchy and flirty as the two of you are, you’re just friends. Once Jungwon made it clear he was here to stay you found the confidence to open up to him about Jake. You told him about the ghosting, the sex, how much he meant to you and how you don’t think you’ll ever love someone the way you love him or even be ready for a relationship anytime soon. Jungwon understood and made his intentions clear, he just wanted to make you happy. If that meant putting his feelings on the backburner and doing things your way so be it.
It wasn’t a fair deal at all, Jungwon devoted almost all of his time to you, he would walk you home from your late lectures, wake up at five am to run to Tatte to buy you breakfast before your eight ams, turn down girls who approached him in hopes that when you were ready you’d come running to him.
He did it all without complaint, he loves you fully and without restraint. He’s loved you from the start, he loves you the way you wish Jake had.
You can’t help but think about where Jake would fit in your life now. You’ve changed and made sure your new life left no room for him, you tailored your life to make sure Jake could never waltz back in and destroy all the progress you’ve made. You don’t think he’ll fit in with your group of friends anyhow. As this year has come and passed, you replaced Jake with Jungwon. It’s hard to picture Jake falling back into the role of being your only friend in your life.
You have Avi, Beomgyu and Jungwon. They look out for you and make sure to take care of you. It’s a reciprocal friendship, they’re pouring into you just as much as you pour into them if not more.
You snap out of your thoughts when Jungwon softly pinches your side. “You zoned out, are you okay?”
You nod your head and play with his fingers under the blanket. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life.”
You feel him take in a sharp breath before pulling you into him even more. “I’m the lucky one.”
___
As the movie night comes to a close, you sit up from Jungwon’s hold to stretch, your friends following your actions. You reach for your phone to check the time to see if you can squeeze in one more movie.
“It’s only nine, we can start another show or watch a movie.” You offer
Jungwon wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to his side, “I don’t have anything to do tomorrow, I’m down.”
Avi stands up and clears her throat. “Actually can we go out?”
Beomgyu looks up at her questioningly, “wanna ride the blue bikes around campus?”
She shakes her head, “a Harvard frat is hosting to-”
“Absolutely not.” You cut her off. You haven’t been to another college party since the one at slackers, the sight of Avi getting drugged permanently put you off from the party scene.
She huffs, “why not!?”
You give her an incredulous look. “Are you being serious? You were drugged the last time we went to one, I don’t want to see you in the ER again!”
The boys can sense the growing tension, Beomgyu stands and tries to calm Avi and Jungwon soothingly rubs your arms.
“It was one time! I won’t drink this time!”
“I still don’t feel comfortable.” She throws her hands up and turns to pout at Beomgyu knowing it’s a weakness of his.
“Yah! this is between the two of you, stop pouting at me.” He says in response before turning on his heel to head to your kitchen to raid it for some more food. You huff and turn to Jungwon to have him plead your case but he only shakes his head, he knows better than to get in between the two of you.
“Uh-uh, No. You two figure this out.”
He stands from his seat beside you to go join Beomgyu in the kitchen.
Avi takes Jungwon’s seat and grabs your hands. “I promise I won’t drink! I know better now and the guys will be there! You know they won’t let anything happen to either of us! Come on, _____ please!”
You sigh and shift your attention to the boys goofing off in your kitchen, Avi is right. The boys wouldn’t let the two of you out of their sight, especially Jungwon as he was there for the last party the three of you had attended.
“Fine.”
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The living room of the frat is completely packed, people are scattered around the home, either dancing in a large group in the middle of the living room, relaxing in the kitchen with drinks in hand or smoking blunts upstairs. Something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you is the hordes of couples pressed up against each other and the walls, making out and grinding against each other for the entirety of the house to see without a single care in the world.
You turn to face your friends, “an hour tops then we’re out of here!”
Avi playfully rolls her eyes, “aye aye captain.”
She grabs Beomgyu’s hand and they walk into the midst of the party leaving you with Jungwon. “Want to grab a drink with me?”
You pull your attention away from a guy who’s completely wasted and forcing another to a dance off to Jungwon who’s standing next to you. You shrug, “sure.”
You both exit from the hallway where your little group had clustered and enter the kitchen to grab a drink. Jungwon hands you a water bottle but you nudge away his hand and reach for a red solo cup to pour yourself a shot of tequila. You knock it back and move down the counter to pour yourself some of the punch.
Jungwon watches you in worry as you pucker your lips at the taste of the punch, “I thought no drinking tonight.”
“No drinking for Avi. Plus it’s for the nerves.”
He nods at you and takes a sip of his water. “What has you on edge?”
You look around the kitchen sadly before confessing what’s weighing on your heart. “It feels so odd being here, it was my dream for so long and now it’s just some other school down the block.”
Jungwon hums before scanning the area himself. “Do you regret choosing Northeastern?”
You sigh, “I..” you trail off to really think through your answer. Northeastern has become more than a safety net. You have a family here because of the school, people who love and care about you without restraint and would be crushed if you up and left them. You also can’t help but feel as though there’s a double meaning to Jungwon’s question. “I don’t think so, more so mourning what could have been here.”
Jungwon nods, “are you still thinking about transferring?”
You shake your head. “No, I think it’s time to close the chapter on this time period in my life.”
Jungwon stills beside you, to him, Harvard = Jake and the life you lived with him back at home in Australia, does this mean this is finally the end of you and that dirtbag?
You smile and place your arms around Jungwon’s neck. “I think it's time to start focusing on what I have here at Northeastern…with you.”
Jungwon swears he feels his heart stop at your words, are you finally going to give him a chance? His eyes suddenly gleam with mischief as he rests his hands on your waist and squeezes you a little tighter and yanks you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crash into his chest, all up in each other’s personal space.
Your eyes widen in complete surprise. 
“Are you saying what I think you are?” He teases with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face. 
You ignore the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneer at him. “Don’t be smug, I can still change my mind, you know.” You force space between you two and try removing his hands from your waist but his grip transforms into an iron lock. 
“You wouldn’t.” 
“Try me.”
He pulls you in close and leans in to whisper, “yeah? Then who's gonna do this?” He doesn’t wait for you to question him, leaning in right away to place his lips on yours and cage you between him and the kitchen counter. Your eyes blow out, taken by surprise until you find yourself quickly melting into the kiss, hands gripping his shoulders tighter. Jungwon can’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace. 
You instantly love the way he kisses, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips. 
Jungwon doesn’t care if your lipstick smudges onto him or how brash the public display of affection seems; all he cares about is the soft feeling of your lips against his own for the first time and the fact that you’re willing to be his.
He knows it’s going to stay on his mind for weeks. 
You’re beginning to get lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with overwhelming feelings and shimmering eyes that depict how nervous you are for this new step.
“Wanna dance with me?” You shyly ask.
Jungwon smirks, his mind recalling the first time he ever met you at that slackers party. “Where’s the fun in asking?” He mocks, you roll your eyes at the familiarity of his words before dragging him out of the kitchen and into the living room to dance away your inhibitions.
The two of you make your way to the center of the room knowing once you start dancing, all eyes will be on you. Jungwon squeezes your hips one last time before turning you around and helping you slowly grind down on him to the beat of the song, once you have a steady rhythm going on he begins to buck his hips to meet your pace.
Just like that night at slackers, you’re bent over whining your waist against Jungwon and catching the attention of those around you. Jungwon sneaks one arm around your front and gently squeezes at your right boob under your crop top, getting turned on by how your butt applies the right amount of pressure to his cock every time you bounce off of it and the lustful gaze of those watching. He could cum in his pants. You have to bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning.
As the song comes to a close Jungwon releases you and places a kiss against the base of your neck, “I’m going to grab us drinks, stay right here baby.”
You nod and let him remove himself from you completely to go get the two of you drinks, you turn around to see if you could potentially find Beomgyu or Avi and spend some time with them until he returns but before you even get the chance to fully scope out the area you feel someone grab onto your wrist and spin you around.
You’re about to tell the stranger off but your words get caught in your throat when you turn around to find a tall blonde man dressed in all black staring you down. You exhale sharply at the way he seemingly undresses you with his eyes.
“You sure know how to put on a show, princess.”
You feel your face heat up a bit at the use of pet name and being called out on the way you were just dry humping Jungwon. Not knowing what to say you wait for him to continue. Picking up on that, the stranger continues, “I’m Jay, what’s your name darling?”
“____” you breathlessly let out.
He hums and pulls you in closer, “sexy name for a sexy girl, who’s that guy? Your boyfriend?”
His hands travel down to grab at your ass over your leggings and you have a feeling that even if you were taken, Jay wouldn’t care.
You bite down a moan at the way he caresses your ass, taking turns between rolling the flesh and pinching it every now and then. He lands a sharp slap to your bottom when you don’t answer, his patience running thin. “Answer me princess.”
You shake your head, “n-no I’m si-”
Before you can finish your statement Jay gets ripped away from you by another male who huffs out in playful annoyance. “C’mon mate, it’s my birthday and you’re ditching me for some action?”
This time, your blood truly runs cold. Standing in front of you in all his glory for the first time in a year and three months is Sim Jaeyun. His eyes sweep over to you and the smile that was just gracing his face begins to slowly fall. Your eyes greedily take him in. You notice he’s dyed his hair back to black and grown it out a bit, parting it in the middle like you used to do for him during your walk to school. His shoulders also seem a bit wider, did he start working out? You even note his style has changed, gone are the tight skinny jeans and random hoodies. He’s dressed in wide legend pants paired with a simple white tee tucked in and Jordans on his feet.
“____.” He breathlessly lets out.
Hearing him call out to you breaks your heart, after all this time you thought you would be angry at him for what he did. Swearing to Avi that if you ever ran into him you were going to rip him a new one, maybe even slap him for having the audacity to hurt you the way he did. But now that you’ve been graced with the opportunity all you feel is a deep sadness, all your anger gone in that instant.
You see Jay’s eyes bug out of his head as he looks between the two of you. “She’s ____?”
Your eyes flicker over to Jay as you make the assumption Jake must have told him all about the two of you. Jake reaches a hand out to grab yours but you instantly jerk away from his touch. He doesn’t deserve it, your mind screams at you.
“Don’t.” You grit out, fighting back the tears.
Jake’s face falls even more at the malice in the simple word, heart breaking at how you avoid his touch but respects it nonetheless.
“Please, let me just ex-”
You don’t let him finish before you’re spinning on your heel and bolting out of the party. You knock into a few partygoers, the alcohol finally taking its effect. You hear muffled shouts of your name as you push past people to make it outside to the lawn. In your daze you don’t see your friends running after you.
You stumble out of the party and onto the lawn. The front of the frat house is nearly empty, save for you and a couple that’s making out on the grass. You stagger towards a bush when the overwhelming feeling of vomiting consumes you. Your stomach contracts violently and all the liquor you had consumed comes back up splattering the bushes.
“____!” You hear Jungwon call out your name before he’s kneeling beside you and holding your hair back.
You heave again and once more the contents of your stomach spray the ground. You sink to your knees and retch until only clear liquid is coming up. Your throat feels sore from the stomach acid that is layering it and your mouth tastes of vomit.
Avi kneels beside you and rubs your back soothingly as Beomgyu stands protectively in front of you, shielding you from Jake’s view as he tries to grab your attention, constantly calling your name.
“It’s alright,” you hear Jungwon whisper as you feel your stomach begin to settle. He slowly ties your hair up for you using a hair tie Avi offers and once he’s sure Avi has a steady grip on you, he’s standing to square up to Jake.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jungwon asks. Beomgyu’s eyes widen the tiniest fraction at his roommate's question, knowing damn well he can’t fight and Jungown might be alone in this one.
Jake scoffs and steps up to Jungwon, his own annoyance at its peak. “I’m her best friend who the fuck do you think you are?”
Your friends all still at the realization of who exactly the stranger is. Avi is the first to react, scoffing at his audacity from beside you as she looks up at him.
“You know you got a lot of fucking nerve to even call yourself that. You’re the one who ghosted her, you’re the one who left. You don’t get to claim that title anymore.”
Jake falters at the harsh glare he’s receiving from your friends but he’s determined to speak to you.
“You don’t know shit.” Jay spits out from behind Jake knowing the true story as to why Jake did what he did. Albeit shitty, his friend had his reasons and he wasn’t going to let anyone shame him for the decisions he made as a kid fresh out of high school.
Beomgyu swears he sees red. “Watch it.” He says as he shoves at Jay’s chest. Jay, having none of it though, pushes back causing Jungwon and Jake to have to step in and separate their friends before things escalate.
Jake pulls his friend away and harshly whispers in his ear before Jay scoffs and walks away back into the party. Jake clears his throat and turns back to you and your friends who are all still glaring and making a protective front around you.
“Please, ____. I Just need one chance to explain myself.”
Jungwon opens his mouth to respond for you but you're quicker than him.
“No.” Your voice is firm, “you don’t get to hurt me the way you did and expect me to give you the courtesy of explaining why you chose to break my heart.”
From your seated position you can see the tears swimming in his eyes and it almost makes you crack. Almost. But you need to choose you for once. You need to stop throwing caution to the wind when it comes to Sim Jaeyun, he never once did that for you.
“You’re a year too late.”
Still determined and not deterred by your stance, Jake takes a cautious step forward, stopping when Jungwon deems he’s gotten too close and steps up as well to place a hand on Jake’s chest.
“I’m sorry, ____. I know I fucked everything up and-and that I don’t deserve another chance but please-” He chokes back a sob, “please just let me explain!” Avi rolls her eyes and helps you stand. “What good will that do? You’re right, you don’t deserve shit from her. Explaining why you’re a shitty person isn’t going to change anything.”
Although harsh, Avi is right. Hearing him out won’t change the fact that he no longer has a spot in your life, it won’t change the damage he’s caused, it won’t do anything.
“Let’s go guys.” You weekly let out, completely drained and craving the warmth of your bed.
“____!”
You ignore Jake’s call of your name and leave with your friends surrounding you, making it impossible for him to see you anymore. Your heart seizes in your chest at the desperation in his voice as he calls out to you but you keep walking, you leave him behind like he did to you all those months ago.
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[November 15th, 12:35 AM]
[jake]: can we please talk?
[jake]: i’m sorry
[jake]: please
[jake]: _____?
[November 16th, 2:48 PM]
[jake]: i know you don’t want to talk to me but please let me explain ____
[jake]: i’ll leave you alone after, i swear
[November 17th, 6:15 PM]
[jake]: i’ll be at caffe nero near newbury tomorrow at 2 until they close
[jake]: please come and let me explain, i’ll leave you alone regardless of what you decide.
Jake stares down at his phone as he hits send, over the past two days he’s been sending you text messages praying you’ll respond but each one has been left on delivered. He doesn’t know if you’ve read them or even blocked him.
He tosses his phone aside and drops down on his hard dorm bed staring up at his ceiling wondering why he let things get so bad. He thought he was making the right decision for the both of you, thought he was doing right by you by leaving you alone.
Falling in love takes courage he doesn't possess at the time. You never stood a chance and it's little wonder why you felt so cheated.
Leading up to his departure from Australia everything was perfect, it was a dream. He had the girl of his dreams, a scholarship to the school of his dreams and for once- a supportive family backing every decision he made. It was new, it was different. It was scary. Jake grew up having to fight for his parents attention and had to work for their love, it was conditional, he had to be perfect. Being given it so freely and easily by you came as a shock.
He knew just how much you loved him, how much you had sacrificed over the years for him, he doesn’t deserve it now and he sure as hell didn’t think he deserved it back then. How could he love you if he barely understood how it worked? He had such a twisted view on love. At the time he thought it came with conditions, that he couldn’t love or be loved without conditions. That it was only a matter of time before the hammer dropped on your changing relationship and you began expecting more from him as a boyfriend, more that he couldn’t give.
Reading the letter was what really did it for him.
Of course he didn’t listen to you when you told him to read it once he was on the plane. He waited until you fell asleep and reached into the drawer to retrieve the letter and began reading it. Jake read it over and over again until he had it memorized, so much so that he still has it memorized to this day. He left you with the original but wrote it down on a napkin on the plane when he realized how big of a mistake it was to leave it. He sits up to walk over to his desk and retrieve his written version of the letter and begins to read it once again.
Dear Jake, my sweet angel boy,
I should have told you this right after prom: that there's this special love that I have deep within my heart. That love is only for you. It is far greater than this world. I wish I could show you how much you really mean to me. If I could only let you feel how much I really do love you in a kiss or a hug, you would begin to feel the love that I have for you.
If I could describe the love that I have for you and use lyrics of love songs or even the sonnets of Shakespeare, it would still be impossible, because the love that I love for you cannot be put into words. You've had my love from the day we met, and you will have it forever. As time goes by, my heart and love for you will keep growing stronger, brighter, and bigger.
Call me your love from this day forward. Although we have two different minds, and souls, we have one and the same beautiful heart. My love for you is unconditional. Please don’t forget that.
I love you with all my heart, body, and soul. I will never stop loving you. You are my life, my world, and everything to me. Distance may keep us apart for a short while but you will always and forever be embedded deep within my heart.
My beautiful love, you are my world and you have been since the first time I saw you. I felt love the first time I looked at you all those years ago in your backyard, and my world became a beautiful place to live in. I often ask myself, what in the world would I do without you now? I hope to never find out the answer to that question.
I’m writing you this letter to tell you how much you mean to me, and to thank you for coming into my life. You are something I never thought could exist for me. You are the best thing that has ever happened in my life, and I don't regret telling you how I feel.
I love you Sim Jaeyun, today, tomorrow, forever.
Tears swim in Jake’s eyes as he places the letter back in the depths of his desk. He wishes so badly that he didn’t run, that he stayed and talked through his fears with you but he was too much of a coward and knew deep down that you deserved better. He never deserved you to begin with and he was a fool for ever thinking a broken boy like him could ever love someone as amazing as you.
After leaving, Jake found it hard to settle into his new routine. He missed your presence every single day, finding it harder and harder to ignore your text messages asking how he was, if he had eaten, if he liked the campus.
By the time Jake had realized how big of a mistake he made and just how much of an ass he looked like, he couldn’t take it back. The damage had quite literally been done and it seemed you were moving on. The text messages stopped coming in, he was removed from your close friends and his mother no longer had any updates for him when he would ask. Apparently, you had stopped going over and it was rare to catch glimpses of you as the school year progressed.
When he had heard from his brother that you were no longer on the volleyball team he wanted to reach out and ask what happened. You loved the sport too much to just quit, especially during your senior year but Jake had a feeling he was the last person you wanted to hear from.
His first semester at Yale was nothing like he expected it to be, everything was dull and lifeless. Every day was the same routine: wake up, shower and brush his teeth, get dressed and head to lectures before studying at the library until midnight because his roommate had a girl over.
He felt like he was slowly losing his sanity. As the end of his first semester came to a close and winter break was fastly approaching Jake decided he had had enough. Yale meant nothing if you weren’t in his life. He knew at that point you had probably sent in your college applications and were practically a shoe-in for Harvard so he did what he thought would bring him peace.
He sent in his transfer application before the end of the semester to be able to start in the spring and got his acceptance right before winter break. He didn’t tell his parents about the sudden decision, knowing they wouldn’t be happy with him but he was done living in his fear. It was what caused him to lose you and he would be damned if he let it happen again.
He eventually told them once everything was set and as expected he received an earful about his decision from his father before he realized how deadset his son was on this before backing down.
Once the spring semester started Jake could slowly feel his world start to mend. Everything seemed brighter at Harvard; the physics program was easier, the people were kinder, he had friends and his new roommate wasn’t an ass.
Jay and Jake clicked the second Jake rolled his suitcases into the new room. Jay took him under his wing and treated him like a little brother. It felt nice to have someone to rely on, sure Jay wasn’t you but he slowly became someone who meant the world to him and he looked up to. Eventually Jay introduced Jake to his friends Heeseung and Sunghoon and the four became an inseparable group. The four of them truly did everything together: they took all their gen ed classes together, they attended each other's sporting events and they would often go to frats together with Jake staying sober to take care of his friends.
The guys never pushed Jake to explore the women that approached him at parties knowing his heart belonged to you. They had heard him go on and on about you on several occasions and knew he only transferred to be close to you. They admired his determination to right his wrongdoings but were truthfully skeptical if it would work. They encouraged him to just text you, arguing the more time he let pass the harder it would be to win you back but Jake argued back that this was something that couldn’t be fixed over text.
The semester flew by and Jake was increasingly getting excited. Once he had submitted his last final exam he was on the first flight back home to Australia in June. He couldn’t wait for you to start school in the fall to talk to you and he was long overdue for a trip back home, two birds with one stone. However, when he made it back home to Brisbane his dreams were once again crushed. His mother informed him about your solo trip to Europe and how your parents had sent you away under the guise of it being a graduation gift but really it was out of fear of your declining mental health.
Jake was lost, he had heard nothing about your mental state as his mother insisted she knew nothing about your life anymore when he would inquire about you over the phone. It came as a shock when his mom sat him down to tell him about you being kicked off the volleyball team rather than you just leaving like he assumed, how you no longer attended study groups and even skip school now. What came as the biggest shock was hearing you didn’t get into Harvard. Jake felt absolutely disgusted with himself.
He had caused this, he was the reason behind your suffering and yet he had the audacity to show up here thinking you would welcome him back. He was right, he really doesn’t deserve you. Look at all the pain he’s caused you and what you’ve lost in the process.
He didn’t stick around much longer after that, He flew back to the states a week before you came back from New Zealand and became hell bent on leaving you alone. He owed you that much, some peace after bringing nothing but chaos into your life.
The rest of his summer was a haze, he spent it getting high or drunk with Heeseung and Jay. He didn’t tell his friends about what he had heard from back home, the guilt eating at him but he made it clear that there would be no Jake and ____. The two of you were officially done.
Heesung and Jay were obviously worried about their friend, they knew of the love the male held for you and to see him so torn up over it that he was drinking all his inhibitions away or smoking until he was numb was alarming but they didn’t stop him.
They did however intervene towards the end of the summer when Sunghoon came back from Korea and Jake insisted the group went to an end of summer kickback. They had never seen Jake so out of it, he got so crossfaded that he passed out at the party and was unresponsive for twenty minutes.
Emergency services had to be called and the party got shut down. It was safe to say his friends were done with his shit and sat him down and forced him to talk about his emotions because they would be damned if they watched him continue down this path and eventually die from it.
That night was an eye opener for Jake and he swore he would get better, promised he would stop holding things in and be more upfront about how he was feeling. Seeing Jay cry over the possibility of his death was what really put things into perspective for him, the thought of you also possibly being torn over him dying got him to take his sobriety seriously.
His friends held him accountable as the new school year began, they cut back on frat parties, made the effort to not drink as much around him and even began being more open with each other due to Jay’s claims of “vulnerability breeds vulnerability.”
It was safe to say that Jake was finally beginning to heal. He knew sooner or later he would have to face the consequences of his actions and he was fully prepared to do so, just not so soon. It was Sunghoon’s idea to go to the frat at Kappa Alpha Theta for his birthday. Jake was fully prepared to say no and spend the day alone. This would be his second birthday spent away from you and he wanted the privacy to read through old birthday paragraphs you’ve sent him over the years and stare at the polaroids he took of you during your getaway to Sydney.
Jay and Heesung were having none of it though and insisted he needed to actually celebrate his birthday like Sunghoon said. Jake eventually caved when the three of them offered to stay sober with him. Seeing you at that party was devastating but seeing you in another man's arms was infuriating. Jake knew he had no right to be upset with you but it irked him that he was no longer the only male in your life. Jay had told him about the dance that took place before everything went to shit and Jake couldn’t help but wonder if you had fully moved on from him. Heeseung had to remind him that if you had, Jake couldn’t be upset with you, he had practically pushed you into Jungwon’s arms the second he decided to leave you behind in Australia.
“How long do you plan on staring at your phone?” Heeseung asks as he enters the younger male's room with Jay and Sunghoon trailing behind him.
Jake sighs and tosses the device to the side, “she still hasn’t responded.”
Sunghoon takes a seat beside Jake on the bed, “give her some space dude I’m sure seeing you at the party was the last thing she expected.”
Jay hums, “you did what you can. Give her space to decide what she wants.”
Jake heeds the advice of his friends. He’s inconvenienced you enough, leaving you alone to decide if you want to meet him is what you need now. He can only hope you do decide to hear him out.
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“I don’t think you should go.”
You look up at Avi who’s standing above you on the couch staring down at your phone screen, contempt written all over her face. You gently sigh and lock your phone, letting it fall on the couch with a soft thud.
“I know.”
Ever since the party Jake has constantly been texting you. Avi was beyond annoyed with the male and his inability to- “leave you the fuck alone.” You would read them as they come in, unable to bring yourself to delete the messages like Beomgyu advised when you told him about them.
“Just block his number, ____.” Avi huffs, crossing her arms as she stares down at you. You look away and draw figure eights into the couch cushions as you think.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
It’s silent for a beat, you think for a few seconds before shrugging. “I don’t know.”
Avi sighs and uncrosses her arms. “You’re being selfish.”
You stop drawing imaginary shapes on the couch and fix your eyes on Avi, waiting for her to continue.
“What about Jungwon? Have you stopped to consider what this would do to him if you let Jake just waltz his way back into your life?”
You purse your lips, you haven’t talked to the younger male since the party. He’s been reaching out as well, trying to gauge how you’re feeling with the sudden appearance of Jake but you’ve yet to open them let alone respond.
“I don’t k-”
Avi groans in annoyance, cutting you off. “-I swear if you say I don’t know one more time, ____! Can’t you see how bad Jake is for you? One appearance and a few text messages and look at you! You’re not talking to us anymore, you haven’t left your bed in almost two days! Jake is toxic, this isn’t healthy!”
For some reason you want to defend his name, want to call Avi out on being a bitch but you don’t. You know she’s being logical and Jake doesn’t deserve it so you keep quiet. When she realizes her approach may have been a bit too harsh she softens a bit and takes a seat beside you.
“I’m sorry, I just-.” She cuts herself off with a deep inhale. “Jake will never love you the way Jungwon has. It’s harsh but true. Maybe Jake did have his reasons but that doesn’t change the fact that his approach was wrong. He didn’t stop to consider how hurt you would be and that’s not okay. Do you really want to be with someone who can hurt you so easily?”
She gently pats your back before continuing knowing you won’t answer. “Jake is selfish, he’s only ever cared about himself and Jungwon has only cared about you. Don’t miss out on what could be a great love with Jungwon because you’re infatuated with the idea of being with Jake.”
With that, she gets up and leaves you to stew in your thoughts. She’s right, Jungwon was the one to stay and pick up the pieces. He was the one to show you that love didn’t have to be painful, he’s patient, kind and above all absolutely madly in love with you. He healed you from the pain Jake caused so why are you self sabotaging? Who’s to say Jake won’t hurt you again? That he even has a valid reason for stringing you along?
Your phone buzzes on the couch pulling you out of your reverie. You sigh, expecting to find another text from Jake as you pick it up to look at it only to find it’s not from him but rather the other male you’ve been ignoring.
[November 17th, 7:37 PM]
[jungwon]: do you want to grab lunch with me at tatte tmr at 2?
You want to scream at how fate is playing out, now you really have to choose.
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[November 18th, 2:17 PM]
You march up the sidewalk to the sound of the steady patter of rain against the pavement that leads to the little cafe that’s tucked between the huge city buildings and hidden away from view with vines crawling up its side. You come to a stop in front of the door and take a deep breath to calm yourself before entering.
A part of you is scared you’ve made the wrong decision, you want to turn around and run to him but you know you need to see this through. People love to think about the what if’s: what if I chose the wrong major? What if we weren’t meant to ever meet? What if things had just gone the way I had so desperately wanted them to?
For you, it's what could have been that plagues your mind. To you, they’re far worse than what if’s because they were within your reach, the possibility of it coming to fruition so near but never close enough.
Jake has been your biggest what could have been, your almost. You try and reason that it’s okay that you picked him in the end, you need to know why. Why your love wasn’t enough, why the two of you aren’t together, why he was so quick to give up on the two of you.
You head inside and note the cafe isn’t big, it’s small and cozy. You spot Jake easily, he’s sitting near the back by a window facing you. He offers you a hesitant smile and wave of his hand. You exhale and slowly walk towards his booth and slide into the seat across from him. He meekly slides a drink across the table.
“I know you always liked lattes so I ordered one for you, I hope you don’t mind.”
You look down at the drink he had slid over to your side. It sits prettily in a white china cup, a leaf pattern in delicate milky foam among the pale brown. You wrap your fingers around it, enjoying the heat that spreads through your hands, grateful for the little warmth it provides. You take a hesitant sip, it’s bitter, but you recall telling Jake that only babies ask for hot chocolate.
Truth is, you had stopped drinking lattes once your friendship with him ended, the drink brought back too many unwanted memories. Memories of walking to the nearest cafe in Brisbane during finals season to get your coffee fix to stay up and finish studying were too apparent and hurt too much.
You take a bigger sip and this time let the warm liquid sit on your tongue for longer. You can't smell the bitterness of coffee beans in the warm air of the cafe and you feel safe and calm for just a moment. You allow yourself to get enveloped in the smell of baking bread and let your worries slip away for just a split second.
You place the cup back onto the table and slowly come back to reality. “Thank you.”
Jake shoots a shy smile your way and shrugs, “anything for you.”
You clear your throat and sit straighter, back on alert. You fiddle with the handle of your teacup not knowing what to say. Was this a mistake after all?
Jake, sensing your hesitance, decides to speak up first. “I’m sorry.”
“Why’d you do it?”
Jake studies your face for a good minute. He notes all the subtle changes about you, he picks up on your new hairstyle and the change in your clothes. He also picks up on the awkwardness that hangs in the air, things have never been this tense between the two of you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.
“I was scared that I wouldn’t be enough.” Jake looks away for a brief moment to collect his emotions and make his apology sound as sincere as it can be. “Ever since we were nine you’ve loved me and I was scared that I would mess things up, that once we made things official you would expect more from me, more that I didn’t know how to give and that ultimately I would be the cause of your unhappiness and all I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, ____.”
“I had enough love for the both of us,” you softly confess, your heart breaking at the revelation of how he truly felt at the time. “Why didn’t you just say that? Why didn’t you let me love you?”
Jake gulps, tears stinging his eyes. “Because it didn’t seem like a fair trade. You don’t deserve someone broken. I thought love came with conditions and I didn’t want to drain you.”
You frown, growing annoyed with how he declares how you feel. It irks you how his brain works, how he assumed how you would react, how you would feel rather than giving you the opportunity to brave through the motions together.
“You don’t get to just make decisions on my half.”
Jake stiffly nods. “I know, I’m sorry.”
Your hands ball up into fists, anger beginning to consume your body. “I’m sorry isn’t enough! I was in love with you Jake! I was willing to go to the ends of the earth just to see you smile! Why didn’t you just talk to me? I would have loved you enough until you could love yourself! We could have made it work!”
Jake shakes his head, “no we couldn’t have.”
You glare at him, “why the fuck not!?”
This time Jake stays silent. Your eyes challenge him though, begging him to continue. To give you one good reason as to why he walked away but he gives you nothing, once again making you look like a fool for throwing caution to the wind and picking him.
Angry tears pool in your eyes as you forcefully stand from your seat and stare down at Jake. He looks up at you in surprise and shame. “Don’t you fucking get it? Even after all this time, I’m still in love with you!” You scoff as you see his eyes widening at your confession. “And yet you still can’t be honest with me, I feel so stupid. You make me stupid Sim Jaeyun.”
You don’t wait for him to respond before you’re bolting out of the coffee shop and out into the rain. It’s coming down harder now than it was when you left. You let out a string of curses at how soaked you’re getting and at how embarrassed you feel for confessing your love to Jake.
“____! ____, wait!”
You hear him calling out to you but you don’t stop, if anything it spurs you on to walk faster. The streets of Newbury are astonishingly empty due to the rain making it seemingly easy for a clean escape. What you fail to take into account though is Jake’s ability to sprint due to years of soccer.
He grabs onto your arm and spins you around to face him, determination written all over his face.
“I don’t deserve love, ____ I don’t!” Jake can feel his head spin with hurt, pain and daunting thoughts that have always plagued his self-deprecating mind. “That’s why I walked away. I can’t be loved, not by you, not my dad, not by anyone. I’m not worthy of it… I’m not a lovable person.” 
“Oh my Gosh..” You place a hand over your mouth, emotions reaching a crescendo as you raise your voice. “Yes you are, Jake. Why do you think I’m standing here and telling you I love you? Why do you think I ever did any of the things I’ve done for you? Couldn’t you see it in the way I looked at you? In the way I touched you, the way I trusted you? You’re worth every fucking last bit of love I have.” 
“You are the greatest love I have ever known, ____. It felt selfish to keep you all to myself knowing you could have had more! Knowing I was holding you back-”
You shake your head cutting him off, “I only ever wanted you. You were always more than enough Jake and I wish you had just told me! I would have reassured you each and every time! That’s what you do when you love someone!”
Jake suddenly closes the gap between you, gripping your face intimately as he looks into your frantic eyes. “I didn’t know how to talk through my emotions, ____. I thought it was better to deal with it alone and that caused me the best thing I’ve ever had. I’m still in love with you. My feelings are so strong I don’t know what to do with myself. I can’t think straight, I don’t think straight when it comes to you.” Your eyes stare back at his desperate ones, Jake trying so desperately hard to get you to understand. “I want to try again. I want to do it right this time and never let you go.”
Your lips quiver, taken aback by his warm touch and confession. Unable to resist the urge any longer, Jake slowly leans forward, one hand firmly grasping your waist, the other resting at the base of your neck, and presses your lips together. Lightning cracks overhead as the rain continues to pour down on the two of you, soaking through your clothes. But none of it matters. A warmth radiates through you as you continue kissing Jake as the world seems to melt around you. After a few moments, you slowly pull away, taking a small gasp of air. A sheepish smile creeps onto Jake’s face as you sigh against his lips, breaking eye contact for a moment before Jake plants another, shorter kiss on your lips.
“I love you, ____. I’m sorry for not trying hard enough before but please, give me another chance to love you the right way. The way you deserve. I’m not scared anymore.”
You sniffle and nod your head, “”Okay. Let’s try again. No hiding this time. I want all parts of you Jaeyun, even the parts that scare you.”
He smiles and pecks your lip one last time. “You have all of me.”
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angelshimaa · 7 months
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━━ 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑 ;; 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈
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✧ cw :: gn!reader, angst + comfort (bc y'all asked nicely), reader cries a little :), it's a part two to this (please read first) !!
✧ a/n :: @ka0ila & @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory + the ppl asked for a pt two, so here it is !!
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“you're late.”
you nearly jump at the voice, not expecting any sounds to come from the dark place, way too cold to call home. you only note the laziness of his words, and how deeply they come from him.
it's past his bedtime, and he's exhausted. the hurt part of you hates how deeply his mannerisms are engraved into your mind.
you walk towards the stairs, determined to make it to bed without sharing a singular word with him. it's then when you see his figure sitting right there, blocking your path.
“where were you?” the red of bakugou's eyes is tinted darker, more bloodshot as he looks at you. you hope your own aren't as red after having cried your soul out at mina's. you half wish you'd accepted her offer to crash there for the night, for you didn't know how exactly this night could go.
“away from you. isn't that what you wanted?”
the response nips at him and he remembers the words he'd spat at you. you watch how he plays with his hands, smoothing over the rough skin and the thought is almost hilarious— he looked nervous.
“i— i didn't mean it, y/n. any of it. i was angry— and i'm sorry.”
while you were burning in hurt and rage and bitterness and overwhelming sorrow as mina hugged you, you'd listened to your heart beg him for an apology. and now, after it being thrown out, it doesn't hold the same weight as you'd like.
“until when, bakugou?” he winces at the use of his last name— he was never ‘bakugou’ to you. “you're sorry until something goes wrong at work again? you're sorry until i ‘start yapping' again? until you can't stand to look at my face?”
while he can't look you in the eyes anymore, let alone answer you, you feel the lump in your throat solidify.
“move out of the way, bakugou. i need sleep.”
you climb up a step, and the only movement bakugou makes is to stand up.
“y/n, please. please— stay.” the fragility makes itself known in both your voices and you're too tired— your heart is too heavy to fight, to protest.
“ba— katsuki, i'm tired. you yank me about at your will, and i'm so tired. all i've done is stay— endure— and all it has gotten me is here.”
he inhales sharply at the sorrow in how you say his name and it shatters him to see just how hopeless you look— all because he can't keep his damn temper in check.
“i'm sorry. please, i'll— i'll do anything— just don't leave. i'll get help, i'll come home earlier— i'll listen. just, one more chance, please.”
moments pass and the tears well up looking at his face, the prettiest face you've ever laid your eyes on. it pricks at you, watching him ask so softly.
you're weak, and you're so helplessly in love with him.
“i only have one more chance in me to give.”
bakugou exhales, moving slowly toward you. it's when you feel his arms wrap around you for a hug, that you feel your muscles ease up for the first time in so long. your own arms wrap around him, hands grasping at the back of his shirt, and he clings onto you like his life depends on it.
the smell of him— of home— is what causes the tears to finally fall. his shirt catches them and you nuzzle more into him, the thought of letting go seeming unfathomable. you can't remember the last time he'd touched you, let alone held you so close, but you try and hold onto what it feels like. what being at home feels like.
katsuki shuts his eyes, keeping his tears in. as he whispers his apology, he swears to himself he'll never make you cry so much again.
it's the sound of his heartbeat that stops your tears and lulls you to peace, and the warmth seeps back into your home that allows your broken hearts to mend in silence.
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✧ — thank you for reading !! rbs and feedback are greatly appreciated <3
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n0tamused · 2 months
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'Please cannot fix'
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Content: angst, character death, gn reader, possible grammar mistakes
Words: 1167
A/N: to that one person said I wouldn't do it - here you go. Suffer with me now.
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Once mighty and flamboyant  Galaxy Ranger, now nothing but a desperate pile in the mud. The rain hails down onto him like acid, unrelenting as it bashes his back and makes him sink further into the ground. BootHill’s breath is heavy and ragged as he has long lost his voice, crying out to you to keep awake, to hold on until you’re both back at the base, he has already contacted a doctor through a built in radio - why didn’t you listen?
Leftover footprints had long since been washed away, eradicating the proof of his attempts at keeping you alive, as if he never tried.
You had pleaded with him to slow down, he was jostling you too much, doing too much, and you never saw him this panicked. His eyes could barely handle looking at the red gushing out of your wounds and onto the cold iron of his body. He didn’t listen, and kept going, his feet leaping and swallowing the ground under him with sloppy expertise, kicking up rocks and mud before it could stick to him. One of his hands mussed up your nape, patting the skin and pushing your head closer against him until he could feel your breath on his actual skin - on what little he had to feel with.  “Just a little more, sugar-” he’d say, turn after turn, thunder growling behind him. Moments feel like minutes, and he swears he can run faster, but he can’t -
“BootHill, stop-!” he froze, his eyes escaping whatever daze his mind spun him into, darting to look at your begging ones. Tears or rain, it made your nose red and your lips quivered with the weight of your words. “Let me go..”  You breathed it out, cupping his cheek and turning him to face you, forcing him to feel the fleeting warmth of your palm, it prevented him from running. However, he doesn’t stop moving, he consciously, simply cannot, and for once his artificial body agrees with his organic one; and neither listens to your wishes for him to stop carrying you. “I-I can’t- are you crazy?!” he blurts out sharply, but his face betrays the anger of his tone, his eyes, as wide as yours, show the man crazed with fear of losing something precious beyond life itself. 
“No, no, move yer hands away, I can’t see” he grumbles with a tangible tension in his jaw, shaking his head, flicking raindrops from the tips of his hair. 
“Please..BootHill..I don’t want this sight to be my last-! Please, put me down” you argued, lungs feeling heavy and full of holes that let the rain in. They burned for life, for air, they sought to be engulfed in warmth of the space ship once more, to breathe in the metallic scent that fill the room as BootHill cleaned his iron from the rain. Just once more. But you knew such a future was only a dream behind your heavy lidded eyes that were harder to pry apart every blink.  “Please..just hold me..” you muttered with defeat in your tone, and perhaps it was that which stopped BootHill at long last, or the sight of the bridge that had been split and broken before him, with the raging wide river threatening to swallow the earth itself around it.
He slowly lowered himself to the ground, you in his lap, and his eyes bubbling up with what you could call tears. Translucent blue in color and greasy in texture, his tears fell for you. One metal and freezing hand goes on top of the biggest wound on your torso, pushing down to stop the bleeding. 
BootHill never felt more hopeless and useless than he did now. He tried and failed. And most heartbreaking of all, he didn’t protect you when he needed to. When he should have.
The rain fell harder after that. Your body absorbede the cold of it and grew heavier in his lap.
The wind howled over his head and went right through him too.
…..
Your face was the palest he had ever seen.
Your lips blue.
Eyes shut.
Hair slicked back with how many times he ran his fingers through it, keeping it from your face. Keeping you tidy.
You were limp and heavy, and you were still.. whole, as whole as you could be. He had cried all the tears he had within him, and he struggled to breathe for even longer. Feeling raw and more human than he did even before being turned into this walking machinery. 
You had held his face, and you apologized to him, and asked him to smile, you asked him to deliver you one more charming line - and he failed you in that too.
….
The silence was unbearable, and the cacophony even worse. Now, in the confined space of his ship, he cracked his voice raw open as he glared at the little hologram of the doctor that turned him into this walking tin can.
BootHill couldn’t stand the sound of his own voice that fluctuated higher with the flare of his anger, every sentence more distraught than the last. It got to the point the Doctor on the receiving end had gone silent as a grave, realizing the futility of trying to speak over BootHill. 
‘Bring them back’, he pleaded, hovering over the hologram, making himself feel greater, stronger, and more in control. 
‘If you could turn me into this with just ma head alone, you can help them as well!’ he argued, teeth grit together and showing off their points. Like a cornered dog he clawed and bit and held the last pieces of hope in his maw. ‘They’re whole, jus’ a few scratches-’ he added in haste, and the doctor began shaking his head.
‘Please, Doctor, you’ve gotta’ he stared at the flickering hologram, feeling something akin to acid rise in his throat, sick at the thought of denial. No, he wouldn’t give up on you. ‘Why not?! Because they’re not as loud as I am?! What is the reason?!’. He tried to argue and reason with the other man, and when he ran out of reasons he began to repeat the ones he already mentioned.
‘WHY NOT YOU IDIOT?!’ he shouted, now on his knees before the system table in front of him, the hologram now looking much larger than his own figure. His elbows still rested on the table and he felt like strangling the man in front of him through the hologram itself.
He could see the Doctor’s face fall, disappointed at best. And he heard him sigh. 
“BootHill. I can’t do it, and I won’t try it.”
The hologram flickered, and then went out, allowing the dark of the spaceship to swallow him whole. Trickles of oil began to seep through cracks in his metalwork, and more of his tears began to bubble up in his eyes. Like claws, his hands fell over his face, muffling a choked cry of anguish.
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
-Tags: @prettyliliy @nvuy @lofasofabread @teanypaws @molotto
(I just tagged everyone who showed interest when I talked about this idea, pls lemme know if you don't want the tag/want to be removed from the post <3)
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lunarw0rks · 10 months
Note
Angst Drabble where task 141 thinks reader was KIA but they just being held captive and was probably tortured until reader escaped?
☾𓂃❛🍰❜┊ we buried you
warning(s): platonic!141, canon-typical violence, torture mention, blood/injury, medical procedures, hurt/comfort, gn!reader ♡ masterlist // requests // ask box
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you already looked dead and felt it even more. bloodied, beaten, and deprived of proper food and water for weeks. but you had your chance to escape; one chance, a slim one.
your captors' facility had been raided — before they could restrict you to a chair again. the man who was in charge had been dropped through one of the windows, and the commotion in the prison's corridors was too chaotic for anyone to hear the faint gunshot.
the ringing, and feeling of water trapped in your ears — it was a blessing given all the overstimulating chaos. no one was looking for you, not while they were defending their compound.
you lifted your head from your blank stare in your lap once you heard the heavy thump of his body. you crawled to the warden's corpse, fingering the speak button on his radio, but your vision was too doubled to focus. on top of it, you weren't sure you could speak. you gave up on that the second day into imprisonment. no words resulted in punishment, but so did the use of them. it was a double-edged sword of anguish.
it was now or never; any longer and you would catch an infection or bleed out from your injuries.
to find his gun, you would have to roll the weight of a grown man onto his stomach. maybe last week, before you sustained a broken rib you would've. but now? you could do nothing except stagger through the empty corridors with his keycard, deadened eyes doing little to observe a threat.
the luminance of the afternoon sun nearly knocked you down, an achy forearm raised to block the sheer brightness of the star. your best course of action was to keep moving towards the sounds of friendlies; now was not the time to be the hero you were trained to be.
it was a desert area, only adding to the dryness in your throat and eyes. the distant voices of soldiers, British ones grew louder as you advanced down the valley, eventually seeing a tank in view. what sounded like an officer or general, his shouts were interrupted by the downright grisly sight you were. a military undershirt matching his and your undergarments — crimson stains in the fabric, your skin, the cuts and gashes, bruises big and tiny, sunken and hopeless features.
❝don't move an inch!❞ he bellows despite you already stopped in your tracks, bare feet blistering against the torrid sand. it was only fair in a land full of terrorism — assuming anyone could be an enemy. his men raised their rifles as the officer approached steadily, the force of his squad as backup.
the keycard smears with your bloody fingertips fell to the sand before you turned your arm to him, flashing your only chance at getting back to your men; an insignia for the 141 across that traveled down your forearm.
his gaze softened as he gripped the tender flesh of your arm, inspecting the ink tattered by injury. he gives it a harsh rub with a wetted finger — but the tattoo is very real.
your legs buckled beneath you once you knew you were safe as if your broken body could only stay upright for minutes under the sizzling sun. you crumpled against the sand, eyes droopy and about to clench shut.
the last of the commotion you heard was the officer speaking frantically into his comms — and most notable, a familiar name. captain price.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
❝bleeding christ...❞ price muttered as you wheeled past him limp on a gurney. you were supposed to be KIA, buried and dead for months now. your comms had been lost, and everyone else in that transport didn't make it. but you were here, and barely breathing.
how you managed to stand, let alone remain lucid enough to identify yourself to British forces, he couldn't comprehend it. however, your captain wasn't surprised — you were tough as nails.
the medics worked tirelessly; wrapping you in cooling blankets, inserting a central line, IVs pumping fluid, and a feeding tube to slow feed you until your gut could handle nutrients again.
for hours; they induced your slumber, some much-needed shuteye as the lines and medications did their work on you. though you hadn't been moving much, your attempts at speaking and panicked looks around the medbay were inhibiting your ability to rest. but right now, your shallow breaths were like a living miracle.
you survived and made your escape out of sheer willpower — no one would forget this.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
soap was the first to sit with you, reading from a sports magazine. his logic? if you're up and bickering with him again, that means you're alright. your eyes would flutter open for seconds at a time, a small frown pointed at your chatty visitor, then they would shut again for hours. anything was better than nothing.
gaz and ghost only visited through the window into the medbay, a few minutes of observing your bruised body before they forced themselves to move along. or the captain did. the world couldn't stop for you, as much as he wanted them all to be there for you when you were lucid.
it was captain price that was. he gave the other three a light assignment, something that would keep the trio occupied for a few hours.
after what seemed like two days of medicated slumber, your eyes finally opened fully. you stared down at the stitches all over you, the soft cast around your wrist. most of all, the achy feeling is still ever-persistent despite the sedatives.
❝captain?❞ you croaked in a weak and emotional tone. you weren't in that prison, you were in the 'comfort' of a medbay. perhaps it was the drugs or the hell you had been through, but you were near tears.
his hand outstretched, a palm resting on one of the few uninjured bits of flesh on your arms. ❝you did it, kid. you... made it.❞ price's tone was soothing and low, like that of a parent consoling their maimed child.
what you had been through, he didn't need to know. he didn't ever want to picture it. what mattered most was that you were here and that you had proved yourself in the most heartbreaking sense.
he finds his pocket, pulling out his cell. ❝i have make a call to laswell. i can ask the others to visit if you'd like?❞ price asks softly, eyes remaining on you as he dials the number.
whether you wanted to see the rest of them right now or not, that was your decision. you earned it.
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ja3honey · 5 months
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♡ 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♡
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【Synopsis】 : It's been so long since you've seen your boys. And when the youngest comes knocking on your door, the new life you had only just managed to build comes crashing down.
『Word count』 :  4.8k
-> Genre: Mafia au. Angst. Fluff.
Pairing: Mob Boss!Ot8 Ateez x Reader
[Warnings] : lots of heart ache. The reader is beside herself a lot. Blood. Gore. Death. Torture. Reader gets kidnapped. Tears. Hugging. Lots of cry. Grovelling (we stan a good grovel). And yeah, lots of angst but fluffy at the end. Kissing. Mingi got a dirty mind. Whoops.
Note: uh, so hi. Ahha It's been a while... I finally decided to actually finish the alt ending of this fic. I've had people ask for more, and I honestly forgot about it. But then i saw someone send in THIS request, and it made me want to finish this. So this can be read as a stand-alone. But if you want to read part 1 and the other ending. Go ahead, otherwise enjoyyyyy ♡
Part one | Other Ending
Masterlist | Navigation
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You were alone. Wandering through life with nothing to hold onto. You were going underwater, and no one was around to help you above the heavy waves. You were numb. Heartbreak ridding you of happiness… Or so you thought.
Through a bottle or two... Maybe three or four. You found at the end of it. You were just as unhappy as you were before you took the first sip. You needed a change. A change of scenery. A change of personality. A completely new life. So there you were two towns over. Maybe not a whole country away from the old you, but this was just as good. A new apartment. New job. Architectural design. You enjoyed it, so dearly. It became something that kept you going. That kept you waking up. You were fighting for a glimpse of happiness in mornings that were still hard, and nights were just as restless as ever.
You were alone. Yes. But you tried.
It's been two whole years. You think you’d forgotten everything by now. But the biggest, deepest pain didn’t seem to heal as quickly as everyone says it does. Fucking Liars…
You were having a break from your long hours of sketching a new mansion floor plan, a private owner wanted it done within the week and for a heavy price and as much as it was a distraction you couldn't help but think how the design the private buyer seemed to want a floor plan that resembled something that one of your old lovers would have loved. The vintage vibe with a green and gold theme matched Mingi and Yunho perfectly. Your brain almost thought maybe they were the private buyer. But why would they go to you after what you had ‘apparently done’ to them? Before you could dwell on the idea anymore, the sound of your doorbell broke your gaze from the large sketch in front of you.
You question why someone would be visiting you at this hour, given that most of your clients would email you beforehand and your ‘friends’ would text. So, who could possibly be at your door? Your heart thumped strangely as if your body knew who was beyond the large oak before you. A ball started to form at the base of your throat. Was this anxiousness you were feeling? Gripping the silver handle, you creek the door open slowly, and when your gaze met the other person you feel your heart stop. 
“Hi…”
You looked at the man with a dumbfounded expression, tilting your head in confusion. Hi? After all these years, hi is what he starts with. What does he take you for? A hopeless woman needing a man to catch her when she falls?
You go to shut the door without a second thought, but he catches it in his strong arms. The same arms that used to hold you. Shield you from all the danger―no stop you didn’t need them when you were completely broken and you most certainly don’t need them now.
“Please let me explain. Honey, I just…” He was scrambling to find his words, his breath catching his throat like he was running a marathon prior to this interaction. “I wanted to see you…tell you.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Jongho.” You finally spoke, silently yelling at yourself for sounding so shaky in your voice when you wanted to be mad, tone-deaf, blunt. But here you are, wanting to cry cause of the anger surging through you. Why must you always cry when you get mad. “You don’t get to come here after almost two fucking years, call me honey and tell me how much you miss me and think I’ll just fall back into your arms as if nothing happened.”
“T-that’s not what I want nor expect from you. I just want―I don’t care what you want. Now get off my porch.” You cut him off, slamming the door in his face before breaking down the minute you heard the latch click. Your legs buckle, sliding down the door before your knees hit the ground, sobbing into your hands. Your heart was breaking all over again, just like the night you left. You wanted nothing more than to run after him, beg him to hold you. But you couldn’t. They hurt you so much. How do you even begin to forgive them for what happened all those years ago?
-
Through the next months, you kept receiving letters, flowers, and gift boxes. Even teddy bears. Why would they give you teddy bears? You think they would have known you from being with them for so long. Throwing yet another soft plush toy on the ever-growing pile that sat in your office. You were beginning to become sick of it. You thought after you yelled at Jongho, he and the others would have gotten the hint, but you guess being dumped by eight mob bosses wasn’t as easy as you thought.
Sighing, you click your tongue, looking at the stack of letters you have yet to burn. You can’t even be bothered to open them, not wanting to even listen to anything they might have to say. But another part of you was curious. Maybe one letter couldn’t hurt, right? Reaching for the one on the top, your fingers grasp the small paper. It’s rough against your skin. Like the paper was made from a poor-quality tree. Odd? Why would your ex-lovers gift you such cheap gifts? Not that you were expecting high-priced gifts, but they had enough money to buy half the world, so you think them getting something with a heavier price tag wouldn’t matter. Something wasn’t right. Something wasn’t adding up. 
But before you could think of anything else, a loud, almost anger-filled knock comes from the front door. Your body was suddenly on high alert. Goosebumps erode all over your skin as a sickening feeling clouds your head. Grabbing your letter opener―just in case―you walk slowly towards the noise. Thoughts ran through your head in time with the beats of your racing heart. You knew walking towards the suspicious noise was a bad idea, but what else could you do? Whoever was there would know you were home by the lights being on or how your car is parked in the driveway. You couldn’t just pretend you weren’t home, no matter how hard you wanted to try. 
Your fingers graze the door handle, feeling your breath hitch. You twist it slowly until you hear the creek of the door hinges swing inwards. You brace yourself for whoever it was, but what you are met with confused you. The porch was empty?
No one in sight…
But you certainly heard a loud knock. You were going crazy… were you? You huff, straightening up, feeling relief wash over you. Maybe it was some kids pranking the neighbours again, and you were their target for the day. Who knows. You click the door closed, but you lock it this time because even though you see no threat, you wanted to be sure. Entering your office again you walk over to the letters in order to continue what you were doing but when your eyes gaze over the pieces of paper you notice the one you were going to open wasn’t on the table. Where did you go? You thought, placing the letter opener on the table so you could place your hand on the edge of the oak desk so you could look under it. You looked everywhere and couldn’t seem to find it. It was like it had vanished. But…was that a flash? Something caught your eye.
Looking at the teddy bears, you see the letter sitting in the lap of one of the plushies. Tilting your head you notice a little red flash like as if there was a recor―Your eyes snap open stumbling back slightly before turning to run but your body is met with a very broad object and then before you can get any baring on what or who was in behind of you, everything went black.
-
It was like the world was spinning, your head pinging with an aching pain from the left side of your skull. You tried to open your eyes and look around, but you quickly figured out you were blindfolded and bound to what seemed to be a chair. Typical. Why is it that whenever someone gets kidnapped, they get tied to an old wooden chair? Why couldn’t it be a couch or one of those soft deck chairs? You could hear some scampering around you, three, maybe four people had entered the room you were in. You can smell their shitty cheap cologne that they most likely think bend women at the knees. You knew what kind of people they were before even seeing them. 
“Well well. Looks like my men have caught a pretty mouse of us to play with.” The heavy voice echoed around the room, hinting to you that you were most likely in an open area. A warehouse, maybe? “You are gonna be my ticket to freedom songbird.” 
You had to cringe at the pet name that fell from his lips. The name you were known as in the mafia world. More specifically, Ateez’s Songbird. You tried to sit still, hoping to show a fraudulent sense of confidence, but in reality, you were petrified. You no longer had the eight men you loved dearly to save you. Then again, you had no one to save you. Most of your friends lived out of town and wouldn’t even come to the rescue if you begged. You were alone with these men. Blindfolded and at their will. The man you assume was talking before lifted your blindfold off, seeing your eyes suddenly gaze upon the piercing light from the headlamp above you. You can see your suspicions were correct, four men ranging from sizable jock build to more lean ones but in the end, they were all ghastly, staring you down as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat.
“I want to know where Ateez is….” The grunt that escaped from the immoral male smelled of booze and low-quality cigars. His eyes were painted his redness, as if he hadn't slept in days, weeks even. He was boarding insanity at this rate by his expression. “Well come on, I know you know where they are, and to be blunt, I need them dead. You know business and all.” He rambles, walking around your figure while you sit there listening to his utter bullshit. His words remind you of when a villain in the story starts blabbering to the captor about how they needed to defeat the hero in order to take over the world. But in this case, both sides are just as villainous as each other, and the “world” that’s referenced is stocks… weapons, contraband, drugs, money. The list goes on and on.
“Why are you so quiet, Songbird? Protecting your lovers?” 
Now that one made you laugh, shaking your head in annoyance. Argh, what you would give to be home with a strong whiskey in hand right now. Your reaction sent a shocked expression to the disgusting man's face. He expected you to plea, beg for him to not hurt Ateez, to not hurt the loves of your life and yet here you sit, laughing right in his face like he had just said the most entertaining thing to you.
“I don’t know where they are.” You finally spoke, a sadistic smile painted your face. To never backed down from his gaze, almost trying to intimidate him with your blazed stare. “Why would I know, or care where they are? They don’t care about me.”
His paced. Fuck. He thought. Did his men really just kidnap you for no reason? He was going to shoot someone for this. He began to sweat, you were his only hope of getting the men he hates, attention. And now you were useless. His hand raked through his hair, coming down to scratch the stubble on his chin. What is he going to do with you now? Looking back at you his eyes slid down your body from head to toe, as if he was a predator sizing up his prey. You felt a sudden uneasiness. Maybe telling the man that held your life in his hand you were useless, wasn’t your greatest idea.
He moved away, whispering to one of his men before he sent him off, turning back to you straight after. He stepped one foot in front of the other in a slow and formed way, as if he had come up with the best plan in history. His devious smile brought a lump in your throat and the way he leaned down in front of you, placing both hands on the chair arms so he was face to face with you. “Well, little dove. We can find other uses for you, hmm?”
An idea popped into your head, and maybe it was your hotheadedness or your sheer stubbornness to do things out of spite. Bringing your body back slacked against the chair frame, you watched as his smirk grew, thinking he had finally managed to scare you, but before he could react, you whipped your head forward. Your forehead smashes against his nose with a sickening crack, and a blood-curtailing scream follows. The man gripped his nose with a sharp hiss. You could see blood pouring down like a waterfall from his nose, spilling all over his clothes and floor. Your blurred vision and ache in your skull doesn’t last long as you shake your head. You can see his men crowding around him to see if he is okay.
“Bitch!” He swore, standing up straight from his crouched position to stomp over to you and slap you clean in your face, making you and the chair fall over, smacking your side against the concrete. You can feel your wrist twist before popping out of place from the impact. Your elbow scraped against the harsh floor along with your arm, making you feel the sensation of your blood escaping through the broken skin. A cut on the top of your head also spilled some blood onto the floor making a headache begin to form. Maybe this wasn’t your best idea.
“Get the kit. I wanna teach this whore a lesson.” He spat out some blood that spilled into his mouth from his nose.
“whore? I thought it was bitch? Or as it little dove?” you need to shut your mouth but you choose to keep pushing his buttons. Idiot. He kicked you square in the gut making you hitch your breath before almost coughing up a lung at the pain. Your watered eyes could now barely see as you tried to blink the tears away. You spot out the corner of your eye a bag of what you could only guess, torture tools. Great, now you really fucked up.
-
You had passed out at least two or three times, and every time, you were woken up by ice-cold water to the face. The temperature of the water stung your opened wounds and burned at your hot red flesh. Time was absent to you, not knowing how long you’d been sitting, tied to the comfortable chair. God, your limbs were gonna ache once you were able to get out. that’s if you get out. 
Maybe you will die here. The irony. Dying in a place of crime in a life of anguish when you so desperately tried to run from it. To try so hard to clean up and forget the darkness that lingered in your past. But in truth, you missed. As sicken as it sounded. You missed the violence, the thrill, the wealth and power. You missed being feared by your enemies and adored by your lovers. Call you sadistic for finding nostalgia in torture, but it was true. Even if you were the one who was currently being hurt, you couldn’t help but smile weakly.
“I found her!!” A muffled voice and sounds of gunshots echoed around you. But you were so dazed you couldn’t seem to pinpoint the noise. Your eyes were fuzzed, and blood tainted your view. Everything was happening so fast until you saw the stillness.
“Y-yuyu?” Your eyes glossed, seeing a blurred figure that resembled Yunho. But it couldn’t be him, could it? You must be dreaming, finally getting ready to leave this plane, but why would your guardian angel look like Yunho?
“I’ve got you, baby. Hold on.” You had already passed out for the final time before you would hear another word slip from your ex-lover's mouth. His rough hands gripped the rope that bounded your hands, cutting it away with his pocket knife. He snaked his arm under your legs and on your lower back, picking you up from the old wooden chair with ease. Your blood had pooled on the floor and now trailed behind Yunho as he jogged with you in his arms. His suit was now tainted red from you, but he couldn’t care less. The only thing on his mind was getting you to safety and maybe killing some assholes along the way. 
-
To say you couldn’t explain the pain surging through your body was correct. You had never experienced such torture before, and man, you were definitely regretting some of the stupid shit you had said to the low-life mob boss earlier. Your vision was still so blurred, and your head was ringing. You could faintly see a bedside with a clock on it. But the face was dark like it was unplugged. You know this place. You remembered the smell of vanilla and pine. You remembered the dark spruce bed frame and emerald forest green bed sheets. You weren’t thinking when you started to snuggle into the bedding, inhaling the comforting scent.
You missed his smell. You missed being in this bed. God, you didn’t realize how much you missed them. You wanted to be strong. You didn’t want them, didn’t want to forgive them. But the comfort…. tears were falling from your cheeks onto the silk pillow. You were sobbing, and your mind was beside itself. One part screaming at you, telling you to suck it up and leave. But on the other side, you were so tired. So, so…tired…. and all you wanted was your boys. 
“Sugar…” You froze, hearing the man that belonged to the bedroom. His deep voice, velvet and smooth. You could hear a crack in it like he had been in tears prior. You didn’t move, frozen with fear, because you knew if you looked at him in those beautiful brown eyes, you would be done for. “Baby, are you awake?”
He knew you were, but he didn’t want to approach you without knowing if it was okay. He knew by the way you looked at them last time you saw them that you had feared them. Something he never wanted to see in your beautiful innocent gaze. Torment that he and the others caused. He would never forgive himself, so he understood if you never did either. “I want to go home…”
You didn’t know what else to say. So god damned scared to stay cause if you did, you might not leave. And you couldn’t do that. What they put you through. You couldn’t possibly begin a relationship with them again… right? “Mingi, please take me home…” you felt so small calling for him, you didn’t want to be surrounded by his scent but at the same time, you didn’t so much as budge from the covers. You didn’t want him to be near you, but yet when he sat down on the edge of the bed, your body was screaming to be held by him. Everything was so messed up. Why did it have to end up like this? Why was this your ending with them?
Mingi couldn’t find his wording, his hand coming up to your covered shoulders, putting a firm but gentle touch on it. He wanted nothing more than to hold you, kiss you. Make love to you while repeating how sorry he was over and over while he caused you to come over and over. “I missed you…” His voice cracked. “We all have…” better now than never to explain himself, right? “After the first couple of weeks, we found out that those pictures were faked. A way to manipulate us into crumbling our empire. They thought if they could put us all at each other's throats. I guess they won…”
“How did you find they were fake?” You asked in a whisper, keeping your face covered with the bed sheet. 
“Another anonymous tip went off that San was ‘sneaking’ around with some guy. But Wooyoung was quick to debunk it cause San was with him that whole week. So we quickly found out that this was a ploy to rip us all apart… which worked.” Mingi regretted every word he spoke. They managed to find out San was innocent quicker than you. San was lucky he had an alibi, though unlike you, that was away without their knowledge, just trying to buy a gift for your anniversary... god, they were so stupid...
“It...Worked?” You were confused about that since it only caused you to leave. From your knowledge, the boys were all still together? Mingi sighed, standing up, which caused you to peek out from your hiding spot to see him pouring a whiskey from the small bar in the corner of the room. Before downing the amber-coloured liquor.
“Seonghwa and Hongjoong became obsessed with work. They’ve become biter…” He took another shot of the harsh liquor. “Cruel… The number of people they’ve put in the dungeons just from looking in their direction wrong.”
You felt sick, flashes of them yelling at you, cursing you. The image of them with that anger plus a gun. You felt sorry for any of the suckers that were unlucky enough to gaze at them wrong. You tangled your fingers into the soft sheets, playing with the velvet fabric. You note how the hand that had popped out earlier was still slightly swollen and numb, making you barely able to feel the fabric on your right fingertips. “W-What about the others…”
“Jongho spent most of his time looking for you. Spying on you. Seeing all the achievements you have made.” He sounded proud of you for a moment like he sought knowledge of your life from the youngest. “Yeosang drove himself into his computer work, taking on small tasks in the outer parts of the city. If we hadn’t said we brought you home, he would have still been hiding somewhere.” He flicked his hand in the air, scoffing slightly.
“San and Wooyoung changed the most when you left. They became lost without you, distant… different. Like the sunshine was ripped from their life, and darkness consumed them.”
He took a seat at the end of the bed again. You had sat up, crossing your legs, eyeing his figure. He has gotten bigger than the last time you’ve seen him. He’s bulked up, and from what your memory could recall, Yunho was bigger as well. The way his arms felt being around you as he carried you to safety were definitely bulkier. “And what about you? Yunho?”
He huffed, glancing up at you. His hand was so close to your covered legs. So close yet so far. “Yunho and I are…fine. We missed you.”
You knew fine meant they were both struggling just as much as the others. You shifted, moving a little closer to him. Your heart was still aching, but your body was craving to feel some warmth. and at this point, you were so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of running. Tired of anyone telling you who or how to live your life? who cares if you run back to your exes? Who cared if you decided you move back with them? It’s not like you have friends or family that would tell you otherwise. All you had was them. Eight cruel mob bosses who would do anything for you and who were scared when they thought you had betrayed them. “I missed you too.”
His wide, glossy eyes snapped to yours. Like he had just heard someone spill the secret to life itself. His mouth went dry, a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to spill his guts about how much he missed your smile and missed your laugh. Missed the way you would tease him for being too clingy, but yet you were just as clingy in the next breath. He missed the way your body would melt against his on cold nights, searching for warmth. Or how you would fit so perfectly around his….
“Min…You mind is wondering…” You knew his tells, and you knew he was sinking into his mind. 
“I uh…I’m just trying to find the words to say I’m sorry without it sounding like it was an excuse.”
“I believe you’re sorry, mingi. I believe you are all sorry. It doesn’t change or fix what happened. And it’s going to take time for me to trust you all again. But…” You leaned over, placing your hand on his shaking thigh. “I do forgive you.”
He broke.
“We don’t deserve your forgiveness. We don’t deserve you…” Tears were falling down his red cheeks, making you jump to wipe each one away without a second thought. You hadn’t realized how close you were until you noted the smell of the whiskey on his breath and the warmth of his body radiating to yours.
“You might not deserve me. But who is here to tell me to stay away…” he gave you a smile. You didn’t want to forgive him or the others fully per se, but you did want this push-and-pull game. This cruel twisted game of forbidden love. 
“The others are going to want to see you…” He spoke cautiously, afraid you might recoil away from him if he spoke too loudly. You just sighed, lowering your hands into your lap once again, sitting back. You could feel your wounds with every movement, but it wasn’t as painful as before. They must have given you some painkillers prior to when you were passed out. You were about to speak when a sudden thud was heard, quickly followed by a bunch of hushed whispers. You couldn’t help but smirk at the childishness, for angry mafia kings they sure know how to act like goofballs.
“They’re outside aren’t they?” You cocked your brow, giving Mingi a simple straight expression. He just rubbed the back of his neck with a small whisper of, ‘Sorry.’
You rolled your eyes, telling him to let them in. Your heart might have been racing faster than a race car, but you tried to hide the growing anxiousness with a plain expression. You were going to hear them all out. You were going to hug San and Wooyoung as they sobbed on the end of your bed with mumblers of ‘I’m sorry.’ over and over again. You were going to give Yeosang a knowing look, so he knew that his silence was accepted and that you weren’t mad. You were going to thank Yunho for saving you, and he was going to kiss your palm as you held his cheek briefly.
And you were going to cry.
Sob at how Hongjoong sat on his knees, grovelling for your forgiveness and pleading how he was so messed up for not believing you. You’d all cry seeing the leader so vulnerable. And Seonghwa. Your darling, hwa… you would see such sorrow in his eyes. But you would let him kiss your cheek, hold you for a moment. Let him have you for a moment while you get your mind into check.
This was not a redemption. This was not forgetting. But a new chance.
Not a new chapter but a new book entirely.
You were going to grow, do your own thing. Be with them while you find yourself. And maybe, just maybe. You’d take Jongho’s offer all those years ago…and finally say yes…
— ♡
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dollita-fawn · 5 months
Note
I can't write well but just an idea that I find hot. Totally didn't imagen that.
After the end of RE5. He survived barely. Injured pretty badly but recovering.
Reader taking such good care of him. Since he can't properly do it himself.
Maybe reader could help him relax ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
~horny for Wesker anon
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In a Time of Need
a/n- im in love with this idea oml ty anon.
pairings- Albert Wesker x Gn! reader
NSFW WARNING:
contains- oral sex (m!receiving), handjob, edging, Wesker refers to himself as ‘master’ once, riding Wesker while he’s immobile (consensually), praise/degrading, and use of pet names as always 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
In his weaker state, Wesker is now a shadow of his former self. He's a broken man who has lost everything. He relies on you to take care of him, to feed him, and to keep him comfortable. You're the one who keeps him alive and protects him. You're the one who has the power to make his life better or worse. You have him entirely in your hands.
It used to be the other way around.
He's been reduced to a mere specimen and can't even protest that. He's completely silent, with the only sound being the heavy pumping of his heart. There's a feeling of hopelessness and self-pity surrounding him.
He won’t admit it, but he’s grateful for your presence. Despite how rough he treated you before, and how often he belittled you. You stuck by his side. Even more so when he was as pathetic like this You never seemed to think any less of him.
No matter the failure or wrongdoings, you held Wesker in high regard. You looked up to him as a superior being.
Even now, as you have to be the one to nurse him. Constantly tending to his slow healing wounds and practically spoon feeding him.
Wesker was never one to accept weakness and having to rely on someone else for basic things like eating and sleeping is infuriating for him. He doesn't understand how this has happened and doesn't want to admit that he is weak and vulnerable. He still has his pride and isn't ready to accept the fact that he needs someone to take care of him. He struggles against it every chance he gets, but deep down he understands he has no other options but to comply.
Daily, you have to tend to his bandages and open cuts to prevent further problems like infection.
Cleaning Wesker's wounds is no easy task. They are deep and painful and he doesn't like you touching or inspecting them. He's in so much pain, it's hard for him to even breathe. He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut, but not enough to hide the pain he's in. He curses softly each time you touch him, his wounds raw and red, but slowly healing under the care and attention of your hands.
“Sorry…” You offer a timid apology as you carefully change the gauze, a slight tremble in your hands betraying your concern that you may inadvertently cause discomfort to him.
"It didn't hurt that much." Wesker peers down at you with a mixture of frustration and sadness in his eyes. "Just finish up quickly."
You finish cleaning the wound and apply a fresh bandage to it. Wesker stays silent and stoic as you work, but you know he's in pain and only tolerating this. He's still glaring at you and even if you're doing your best to avoid hurting him, your final touches are making him flinch a little.
"Are you finished?" he grumbles under his breath. You can tell he's trying not to make a fuss, but he clearly wants to be done with this.
You give a reassuring nod in response as you tape up the loose ends. “Are you hungry still?” you ask cautiously. “Need anything before bed?”
"No." he says firmly, not willing to show any neediness or rely on you for anything else.
Part of him did want to be alone, but being around you made him feel slightly better.
Maybe because of your constant need to dote on him. He may have changed but you didn’t. In a sense, you were still basically his lap dog. It fed into that unquenchable thirst for control that he had. You did everything in your power to please him without a second thought.
You could see clear as day how much he was suffering. More than just external wounds inflicted pain.
The poor man was cooped up in bed, unable to accomplish any of the ideals he had thoroughly planned and tried for. Of course you could tell he was stressed. Anyone would be. For Wesker, that stress was eating him alive. He could hardly face you, utterly embarrassed at the state he was forced into. It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way. He wasn’t supposed to sink so low.
But, you knew exactly what was needed to boost him back up, at least somewhat close to his norm.
As you finish cleaning up, you decide to let your hand roam. Avoiding the injured areas of skin, you delicately slide your hand between his leg. Your soft palm trails the inside of his thighs and his tired eyes flicker to you in surprise. “I don’t want another useless massage.” he cuts in.
“I was thinking of doing a little bit more than that for you today.” you counter in a question like statement. “I think certain areas may be feeling neglected lately.”
Wesker picks up on the innuendo, his mood shifting immediately as you state your suggestion.
“Oh?” his thin lips start to curve into that all knowing grin. “Well then, be my guest.”
He certainly wasn’t going to deny you. The man hadn’t been touched for way longer than he anticipated. He was far too busy for things like this.
He almost forgot how good it could feel.
As your hand glides over his hardening length through the tight fabric of his pants, he jerks on impulse, letting out a throaty groan. He was way more sensitive than you anticipated, but you weren’t complaining.
You slowly stroke him through the material and its enough to send him into shock. The heat pools between his legs at the contact of your hands, the discomfort of his injuries fade into nothing.
To your convenience, he lifts as best he can, letting you strip him of his coverings. His cock stands tall and proud, the vein leading from tip to base steadily twitching.
He watches your every move as you spit into the center of your hand.
His eyes snap shut as you then use it to pump your hand, caressing the whole length, soft and breathy moans pour from his lips at his sensitivity.
“Fuck…just like that. Don’t you dare stop.” he barks out an order, yet he can’t sound as stern with you as usual. Not when you ball your palm over the tip, twisting and squeezing your way around.
He can hardly sit still, as much as he tries.
When your mouth comes into play, kissing softly down his happy trail. Your lip’s envelop him into your warm welcoming hole, his hand entangles in your hair.
The way you flick your tongue as you go is enough to kill him.
His whole body tenses. You take him all the way into your throat without cause for concern, slobbering all sloppy all over the base of his cock as you hold it there.
Wesker feels himself about to cum already. But so do you. So you part ways as fast as you can as you feel that pulsing, leaving him unfinished.
Or so he thought that’s what you were doing until you began to pull your own pants down.
His hands remove themselves from your locks, resting at his side as he waits for whatever it is you were planning. His eyes, half slit, watch your every step, looking you up and down as you strip for him. He tried his best to be patient, but he needed that release. More than anything.
“Come here,” he commands firmly, the frustration evident in his tone. “Now.” You would never deny him, not that you planned on it.
You straddle him, careful not to do any harm.
Sitting now on his lap, you position his hardness between the plush of your thighs. Your hands start to stroke him again, but the rough grip of your wrist forces you to a halt. “Ride.” he orders, leaving no room for leniency. He wanted it. Now.
The look in his eyes was almost pleading, but he’d never been the type to beg. He would have his way no matter the cost.
You position so your thighs rest on either side of his. He was wet enough from the saliva of your mouth, slipping into your tight hole with ease. He grits his teeth, grunting slightly as you slowly sink down on him.
The head of his cock reaches your untouched depths, making you squeeze tighter against him. “Such a good little toy for me,” he groans, hands gripping your hips. “Please your master. Don’t make me tell you again. Ride.”
You press your hands to his midriff to steady your balance. Slowly you slide back up, almost pulling him out. You were sucking him in too tightly to let go, even if you tried.
Either way, Wesker forces you back down with what little strength he had. “Faster.” he shouts, and you don’t hesitate.
You bounce on his cock, walls suffocatingly massaging his length inside. His head lulls back as things pick up pace, hands tightening their hold on you.
His hips move along with yours, the best they can. He was desperately chasing his high. After you stopped him mid release prior, he was feeling extra needy. He refused to allow that to happen more than once.
He slams into you at an ungodly pace, you can hardly keep your eyes open. He splits you open on his cock with no regard for your pleasure, only focused on his own.
You were the one who offered to be used, after all.
“You’re going to take every drop of my precious seed. Do you understand?” he growls almost incoherent, lost in the pleasure.
You plead yes, that you understand.
“Say it aloud. Tell me what you are to me.”
You try to gather your thoughts. He didn’t cease his assault, shaking you with every rough thrust. “Y-your cum slut..” you mewl out, hoping your decided answer was satisfactory enough.
“hnng- yes,” he moans out deeply. “My good little slut. I’m going to fill you up and you’re just going to let me.”
He bullies into you rapidly, forcing out your cries as he milks himself in your insides.
He doesn’t slow as he cums in spurts, coating your walls with his white fluids. He continues to stuff it deeper into you as he goes, draining everything he has into you.
It pools out on top of him, leaking messily onto the bed.
Wesker relaxes his hold, no longer feeling so tense and worked up. He collapses back onto the bed, a sweaty panting mess, leaving you to sit and warm his cock.
“You’re going to give yourself to me everytime i request, from now on.”
Much to your surprise, Wesker pulls you down against him, chest to chest. He was never once affectionate towards you before. But now here he is, face burrowed in the crook of your neck.
His hands comfortingly play with your hair, lightly scratching at your scalp.
You melt into him, completely basking in the aftermath and enjoying his rare, gentle touch.
“You’re sleeping here tonight,” he states matter of factly. “You did quite well for me. I think you’re deserving of some extra attention.”
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quimichi · 5 months
Note
WAIT HELP-
soo likee, I saw a reel on ig that is like a scaramouche voice saying "You're a God, do you think I'm evil?"
AND LIKE I IMMEDIATELY THOUGHT OF YOUR ACC CUZ IT JUST FITS SO WELL WITH YOUR genshin x creator!reader STORIES😭
The reel: https://www.instagram.com/reel/C1hH_8ON8sY/?igsh=eTM0NnV5bnh5dWE0
(This isn't a req since ur reqs are currently closed I just wanted to say this :p but like, you can also do this if you want, not pressuring tho since ur prob busy^^)
A/N: the fact that you thought of me 🥹🤧
Scaramouche's thoughts spiral, the silence stretching longer. The longer your stare, the more he grows certain of what you must conclude.
With each passing second, his existence feels less worth preserving, and yet... He has come this far, and he can't help but ask the final question: "... Am I... evil?"
"No." His eyes widen, his breath catches in his throat.
No?
The word resonates within him, sending tremors of hope up his spine and through his heart. No. Scaramouche tries to take in the meaning of the word, its significance. You've never answered him like this before. "... You don't find me evil?" he finally asks, his voice cracking slightly with uncertainty.
"You're broken, you have lost all hope and believe in humanity. But your past mistakes don't make you evil, if anything they're a cry for help." Your words are an anchor that steadies him. You acknowledge his pain, his struggles... you understand him. It's an unquantifiable relief to know that you don't reject him as a hopeless cause. The floodgates inside him begin to open up, and a tide of emotions spill out. He looks up at you again, his expression vulnerable, raw.
"What do you see... now... when you look at me?," Scaramouche's voice wavers slightly. It's hard to look you in the eyes, but he won't let his gaze stray. The answer is too important. "I see a broken boy who needs help...someone." "Someone... like you?," Scaramouche's voice is as tender and fragile as a baby's, but his words carry a meaning as heavy as a boulder.
"Will you help me... be better?"
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abbyromanoff · 6 months
Note
Yelena Belova x her bsf. The bsf just got broken up with and yelena is comforting her but also taking advantage of this moment and starts touching her. The reader might be confused at first but she wants it so bad bc little does she know the boyfriend only broke up with her bc he knows she is in love with yelena
BETTER THAN HIM
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PAIRINGS: Yelena Belova x reader
WORD COUNT: 625
WARNINGS: smut, angst, needles, dark!!, breakups, R dated a man, praise kink, degrading kink, making out, think that’s it :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“I mean, I don’t even know what I did wrong.” You cried, sniffling as tears continued to roam across your face. Yelena used a small tissue to wipe them away, frowning as she took in your hopeless state. You looked so down - so sad, she wanted to do anything she could to help you.
“I know, I know. You didn’t do anything, he was a complete dick who didn’t deserve you.” You nodded, chuckling at her words. You leaned your head on her shoulder, apologizing for the wetness that stained her sleeve. She shushed you quickly, running her fingers through your hair as you continued to listen to her praising statements, a grin threatening to take over as a result.
“You’re so, so perfect, love, he just didn’t see that. I mean, you’re so beautiful, and not to mention how sweet and caring you are - you always take care of me when I’m all sick and mean.” She hummed at the thought of your soup she had the pleasure of eating when she was unwell.
“Anyone, and I mean anyone, would be more than happy to be with you.” You looked up at her through tired eyes, you and your now ex-boyfriend had been up most of the night arguing, you were bound to be restless the next day.
“You mean it?”
“I mean it. I mean every word.” You didn’t happen to notice the small proximity shared between the two of you until her breath panned against your face, your lips mere inches from touching. You titled your head slightly, leaning in as you closed the distance, resting your hand on her chest as you sunk into the feeling of her mouth on yours. She cupped your cheeks, brushing her tongue over your lips as you granted access. She moaned, bringing a hand down your body and to your waist, leading you closer to her. There was a small separation, and you took your chance to wrap your leg around her hips, placing your arms around her neck as your fingers drew small circles on her back.
The two of you only separated for air, yet you were instantly on each other once again. She explored your mouth with pleasure, basking in the soft skin you allowed her to view. She teased the bottom of your shirt, waiting for your approval before removing it, her eyes soon being blessed with the sight of your perky breasts.
“No bra?” She asked, breath heaving and short.
“I prefer going without.” You countered, shuddering when her mouth found a place on your nipples. You placed your hand on the back of her head, mumbling your appreciation between stutters.
“Fuck, Yelena,” You started. “W..we shouldn’t be doing this.” You suddenly recalled the reasoning as to why you were here. The man that just left you was still at your shared apartment, most likely gathering his items, while you sat in your friend's lap with her kisses exfoliating your body.
“Shh, I don’t want you to think, Y/N.” Her body fell on top of yours, her eyes heavy as she looked down at you.
“Your boyfriend is such a fucking pussy, let’s see what he’s missing out on.” You gasped as a needle came in contact with your skin, your body instantly falling limp as you struggled to keep awake.
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m going to make you feel so good.” Your ex was lucky to make it out alive, and now she wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. Once you awoke, she’d be sure to keep you safe in her hold, even if you tried to deny it. Because at the end of the day, she knew you wanted it just as bad as she did.
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ageofevermore · 6 months
Text
UNDER THE MISTLETOE
SUMMARY — when you believe your girlfriends to be dead, the last thing you want to do is celebrate christmas without them. and when i’m feeling alone, you remind me of home, oh baby, baby merry christmas
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Christmas had never felt so lonely. Your favorite time of year had never felt so despondent. You used to love the scent of fresh pine as it melted into the air and made the entire house smell like winter, but now it made you queasy. You used to bask in the sight of mistletoe hanging from door frames, waiting beneath it for the lips of your lovers to find their way home and encapsulate you in a picturesque snow globe moment, but now the very sight of it made you dizzy and clammy and sick. You avoided the holly and ribbon that decorated banisters and you threw away the gingerbread cookies somebody had left sitting on the kitchen counters. You had never felt so disconnected from the jouissance of December 25th, but you had also never lost all connection to your girlfriends who were off risking their lives for the greater good.
Seventeen days. It had been seventeen days since their comms went offline and nobody had heard a single word from them since. Everyone was somber, everyone felt hopeless, but nobody was as affected by the loss as you. You couldn’t find it within yourself to roll out of bed, or to mingle with your friends who were thankfully alive and well but Tony and Pepper still sang Christmas carols as they made dinner, and Bucky and Steve still watched old movies on the couch while reminiscing about the holidays in the forties, and Sam and Rhodey still decorated the tree with candy canes and popcorn garland because they believed that everything would turn out alright in the end. They believed Wanda and Natasha would find their way home, but you had never gotten so lucky. You had never gotten back the things that you lost.
You always told them that if anything were to happen, it would destroy you. You always told them that they were your entire world; your entire purpose. They never believed you. They always thought you were stronger than you were. They always saw the best parts of you, even when all you saw were shattered edges and a broken heart. Now they were thousands of miles away in a snow covered little town, and you were all alone in one of the most beautiful cities in the world barely clinging onto hope. Were they still alive? Were their bodies still warm and soft and careful? Were they still together, unaware of the fact that everyone back home was holding their breath expecting the worst? For seventeen days, all you managed to do was think about the worst. Afterall, nothing good ever happened to you. You were the harbinger of death, even if they tried so hard to change your mind.
When Steve knocked on your door, you let him think you were asleep. You let him stand outside on his own with a plate of decorated sugar cookies, trying his damndest to keep you afloat in the center of this storm that shattered your once stable ground. “It's Wanda and Natasha. They’ll be alright.” He was so certain, so hopeful. You hated him just as much as you hated the sparkling lights that Tony hung up outside. Even with your bedroom lights off and the curtains drawn, those red and green lights still brightened up your bedroom. Even with the comforter over your head, you could still see their faces as they boarded the quinjet thinking they’d be home in only a couple of days.
The winter months had brought inches of snow to upstate New York, covering the frozen ground in fresh white powder that crunched beneath even the gentlest of footsteps. Your heavy coat and fiery red knit mittens could only keep out so much of the brutal cold that made even Tony’s teeth chatter as he watched from the patio near the landing strip, but you couldn’t feel anything besides heat as you hugged Natasha around the neck and let Wanda’s wandering hands hold your waist.
“It’s Christmas. Do they really need you for an intel mission? I thought that was Maria’s job.” You mumbled petulantly into Natasha’s neck, not intending on letting go anytime soon. She knew that, Wanda knew it just as well. The redhead's hug was familiar, homely – but nothing you said could get her to stay. She had a ledger to wipe out, and no matter what light you saw her in, she’d always believe her hands were stained with red and it was her responsibility to do everything she could to right her wrongs. The wrongs she’d never had a conscious choice in, but still haunted her in the middle of the night when she was most vulnerable.
“Maria deserves one Christmas to herself, detka.” Natasha wistfully kissed your head, smoothing back the baby hairs that whipped around in the harsh winter wind and fell in front of your eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered against your hot skin, but the embrace was fleeting as she pulled away and straightened out the wrinkles in her stealth suit. The snow made crinkling sounds as she took a step back, and let you have a moment with Wanda, hating the way her nose burned and her eyes watered as their departure time grew closer and closer. After everything that happened, the chitauri and Loki and Thanos and Dreykov, she never thought saying goodbye to you would be the hardest thing she had to do.
“Why do both of you need to go?” You whispered to Wanda, letting her pull you in close to her heart when she saw that your shoulders began to tremble and your hands blindly reached out for Natasha, desperately wishing you got just one chance to be a normal couple. They wished the same, but there was nothing any of you could do about the fate of the world resting in the hands of the Avengers. That would never change, even if all you wanted was to be normal citizens for one Christmas season.
“We’ll be back soon. I promise.” Wanda kissed your lips so softly, you could barely feel her against you. Your covered hands did their best to cling to her, but she was stronger, and with sadness in her deep green eyes she forced herself away from you with one last gentle kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” You sniffled, letting yourself fall into Natasha one last time before she boarded the jet behind Wanda. “Be safe, please.”
“Always am. I love you, don’t give Tony too much grief.” She knew how you could get when they were both away on a mission together, especially so close to your favorite holiday, but it was only a six day mission, she was sure you could handle that. Six days and they would be back in one piece, ready to decorate the tree and hide presents in every nook and cranny of the compound that they could think of.
“I can’t make any promises if he insists on putting up the Iron Man inflatable again.” Despite the sadness in your heart, you manage to crack a joke that has Natasha smiling. You love the way she smiles and how her eyes light up like Christmas lights, but it’s over too soon, and before you can find a reason for them to stay, the quinjet is taking off and your entire heart is flying away into a battlezone.
The bedroom you’re supposed to share with Wanda and Natasha is the only space in the compound left untouched by Christmas, and you’re eternally grateful for the lack of reminders that tonight's Christmas Eve, and your heart isn’t with you. The empty pit in the bottom of your stomach feels like it’s only growing bigger the longer you go on without any confirmation that they’re okay. You can’t stomach the optimistic banter that fills the common room when you're around, and how your friends hold onto hope that they’ll find a way home like Christmas miracles are something you deserve. You know the truth, you’ve seen the truth too many times to believe in such fairytales, and despite their luck at evading death, your girlfriends aren’t invincible. They’re human, just like you. They’re breakable and they’re killable and at the end of the day there’s only so much that they can take until they crumble. You wish that their teammates would remember that. You wish the world would remember that Earth’s mightiest heroes have families too.
There’s another knock on your door all too soon, but unlike Steve’s, it’s not as passive, and whoever’s so desperate for your attention doesn’t relent even after you make no sounds to indicate that you’re awake or even alive. You haven’t used your voice in days, having had no reason to as you’ve avoided everybody to the best of your abilities, but somehow you manage to find the strength to send them away, but even that doesn’t dissuade the persistent person outside of your door who only knocks louder and more urgently. It’s enough to make you want to cry, just wanting to be left alone, but nothing ever goes your way.
With light footsteps, you throw your bedroom door open, glaring up at whoever decided they needed your company. Tony’s bashful expression doesn’t melt your anger the way you hope, and impatiently you wait for his explanation with your arms folded across your chest. You’re wearing one of Wanda’s shirts, drowning in the oversized t-shirt that was one of the first she’d ever had after moving in. It smelled like her when you put it on, but six days is a long time, and now the only thing that clings to it is your tears. Natasha’s pajama shorts are tied around your hips, two sizes too big but the only comfort you’ve had throughout this entire experience. They’re a deep shade of red like her hair and the softest shorts you’ve ever felt, but nothing is softer than the way her hands grip at your skin in the middle of the night when she needs you close. Nothing will ever be as comforting as having them in bed beside you.
“It’s Christmas Eve.” Tony states the obvious, scratching at the stubble growing out of his chin that he hasn’t bothered to shave away. Pepper doesn’t mind the scruff, but your heart aches knowing that Natasha would’ve had some kind of comment about his graying features.
“No shit.” Your response is dry, and your voice is hoarse, but you can’t find it within yourself to tolerate his intrusion to your depressing quiet that is just barely keeping you together. “Did you need something?”
“Pepper thought you’d want to join us for a movie. Just one.” The sincerity in Tony’s voice is a rarity that only a few lucky people get to experience, but you can’t find it within yourself to give him the time of day. He’ll never know what this feeling is like, and for some reason that only makes you angry as your eyes slit into daggers.
“No, thanks.” You’re about to slam the door in his face when you hear a commotion out in the common room and Maria anxiously calling your name, the echo traveling down the festive hallway that makes you want to throw up. There are wreaths on every door, and in the center of the hallway is a red-berry stock of mistletoe, taunting your lonely lips that haven’t felt the kiss of your girlfriends in almost three weeks.
Almost too quiet to make out, Maria’s voice is shrill as the commotion in the common room only amplifies, but what followed wasn’t anything you would’ve expected to hear after seventeen days in the dark, but the second your brain processes what Bucky shouts, you’re fleeting to the source in seconds, side stepping Tony and practically tripping over yourself with an evident lack of grace as your limbs fly around wildly. “The comms are online!” Bucky’s words repeated over and over again in the front of your head like that godforsaken Christmas carol Tony had been singing all day, but everything became quiet the second static crackled out from the speakers of the laptop Maria was feverishly typing on, trying to secure the line Wanda and Natasha were supposedly on the other side of.
You couldn’t find it within yourself to look at anyone besides Maria as you all gathered around the couch and watched the woman work at a pace you’d never thought was imaginable. Your tired eyes bore into her soul despite her fixation point being the laptop screen, but you knew she could feel your desperation. Your entire body was crying out to have some relief, to be told that this was real, that somewhere out there, Wanda and Natasha weren’t separated and alone, that they were alive and ready to come back home just in time for Christmas. Nothing good ever happened to you, but they had, and you couldn’t afford to lose them now. Not when you had come so far to fix what had been broken a million little times over.
“Nat!” Maria shrieked when the static cracked and the faintest hint of a voice filled the silent room, so still that you’d know if a pin dropped and hit the hardwood floors. Another whirl of static almost deafened Steve and Bucky, but Maria was quick to adjust the frequencies and bring the voices of your girlfriend home, even if their bodies were five thousand miles away. “Nat! Maximoff! Can you hear me?”
With hardly any patience left in your agonizingly numb body, you reached for the laptop with the little strength you could manage, feeling your knees tremble the longer you stood on your own two feet. Maybe it was the lack of food and water, maybe it was the lack of sleep, or maybe it was just the sheer exhaustion you felt both mentally and physically that reduced you to nothing but a pile of bones and skin. Whatever was the culprit, it had you feeling like the world was about to collapse around you if you didn’t hear their voices. You only had this to hold onto, you couldn’t bear to see it get taken away after all these days.
“Nat.” Your voice was soft, trembling and hoarse just like it had been when you greeted Tony, but there was a thickness in it that held nothing but adoration for the redheaded woman that so bravely risked her life over and over again. “Natty, can you hear me?”
The static cracked again, and just when you were about to lose hope, just when you were about to chuck the laptop across the room and drown yourself in a bottle of whiskey, that silky voice you loved so much cut through the static and called out to you. “I can. Clear the land-” The static broke apart her words, it filled the room with a horribly deafening sound, but all that filtered through your mind was that they were alive. They were alive and they sounded okay. That was all you could ask for.
“Nat. Nat. Hello?” You bellowed, keeping the laptop away from your face knowing that it always sounded clearer from a distance. “Wanda?”
“H-h-home.” That was all you could make out before the signal was lost completely and the connection died again, but unlike before, your world didn’t feel so dull. There was an energy in your veins that hadn’t been there before, and with reluctance, you handed the laptop back to Maria bearing a smile nobody had seen in almost three weeks.
With the news of your girlfriends coming home, you finally took in the sight of the common room. You had missed all the little things that Tony had added this year, so stuck in your head on the few occasions that you ventured around the compound. There were the typical Christmas decorations that he pulled out from storage every December, like the fake snow on top of the mantle and the customized stockings with all of your names embroidered on the top, the ten foot tree that was adorned in warm yellow lights, and the annoying train that circled the tree on a loop, but there were little nutcrackers all in the Avengers costumes on the mantle as well, and a picture you’d never seen before of all of you together last Christmas, smiling and laughing and looking so at peace, it almost felt like a normal family celebration had you overlooked the cuts and scrapes on Sam’s cheeks.
Your girls were coming home. Maybe Christmas miracles did happen.
⋆*:・ִ ࣪🎄ೃ࿔
A snowstorm had drifted toward upstate New York in the hours you spent waiting by the door for Wanda and Natasha, curled up into yourself just trying to keep warm as snowflakes turned the frozen ground white just like it had on the day of their departure. Something about it was sweet, but another part of you dreaded the sight of fresh powder like even the thought of it would make this entire nightmare start over again. Stubbornly, you’d decided to wait by the window for the quinjet to arrive, not wanting to miss their arrival by any means, but the mug of hot chocolate you’d made to keep your insides warm had gone cold in minutes and as the harsh wind blew in, your porcelain skin became raw and red. Everyone else had gone to bed hours ago, not wanting to impede on your intimate reunion with the two women who you yearned for desperately. You appreciated the sentiment behind their actions, but the loneliness that had crept into your bones was only amplifying as the minutes ticked by so agonizingly slow. It was almost three in the morning when the first flickers of light came from off in the distance, followed by the unmistakable sound of a plane landing in the backyard. Bolting from the common room and leaving your snowman mug of cold chocolate on the side table to rest, you shoved the patio doors open with little regard for how you might snap the hinges, racing to see your girls emerge from the quinjet in one piece. Your naked legs weren’t protected from the cold, and your sock clad feet grew wet in seconds as they stomped over the snow, but you couldn’t even begin to register the feelings as you looked expectantly at the large black and sleek airplane.
When the gate began to lower to the ground, and wisps of red hair became visible in the darkness of nightfall, you wasted not a single second before you raced into their company and threw your arms around the first woman you could reach with all of your might. It was Wanda that earned your embrace, and the Sokovian woman returned your hug with the same intensity, her nimble fingers running through your hair and working apart all the knots and tangles that had formed over days of being left unbrushed. You wailed into Wanda’s chest with little grace, throwing your dignity somewhere out into the snow without care of who was watching from their bedroom windows. As you fisted the neckline of her stealth suit and dug your nose into the warmest crevice of her neck, your eyes searched for your second lover who was only inches behind your entangled bodies.
“N-Never do that again.” You sobbed desperately, reaching a trembling hand out for Natasha to hold, wanting to feel the both of them against you. “Promise me you’ll never do that again!”
Deep down, you knew that was something they couldn’t promise. No matter how much it would mean to you to never have to sit alone in the dark wondering if they were even alive, this was the only thing they knew outside of your love. This was the only thing that helped them sleep at night. It would be cruel to ask them to give up the one outlet they had for all of the trauma and pain they kept inside. You could never ask them to give this job up, not until they were ready to do it for themselves, but for tonight, beneath the stars and the sunflakes, they agreed.
“I missed you so much.” Wanda admitted as she laid innocent kisses to the cold skin of your neck, her warm body doing its best to keep yours from freezing as you shivered in the cold in only a thin pair of shorts. Her wandering hands found a home on the back of your thighs, and she smoothed her palms over your skin until they didn’t feel so cold anymore, but she could only help so much as the snow came down around you like a shaken snow globe. “Let’s get you inside, moya lyubov.” Her voice was thin as it carried through the open field, just loud enough for you to hear her, but it still made your heart skip a beat after so many days of painful silence.
Reaching a hand out for Natasha to hold, you linked your frozen fingers with the redhead and let your other girlfriend lead the way inside, leaving the quinjet to be dealt with at a later date, preferably by somebody else. They knew you wouldn’t be letting them out of your sight for the foreseeable future, and selfishly they didn’t mind your clingy behavior that always reared it’s head after a mission. Your girls yearned to feel wanted, to feel like they truly belonged after so many years of being treated like they were replaceable. You gave them everything they never thought they would have, and even after six years together they questioned what they did to deserve you or each other. You were all alike in that way, always willing to shell out comfort and reassurances but unable to internalize for yourself to believe. One day, the three of you would believe that you deserved to be happy, but for right now, you had each other to lean on.
When you made it back into the compound and Natasha closed the patio doors behind you, the scent of pine and cinnamon hit you in the face like a brick. For the first time in eighteen days the lingering essence of Christmas didn’t make you queasy. The kitchen was dimly lit with electric candles, ribbons and bows hung on every cabinet door like a Hallmark card, and in the center of the island were gingerbread houses Tony and Steve had spent hours competing over, decorated with stale vanilla icing and crushed up candy canes. The warmth from the furnace circled around your trembling body in a tight embrace, making your skin burn as it was forced to adjust to the rise in temperature in only seconds, but you welcomed it with a light heart and gleeful eyes.
“I felt so lost without you.” You whispered, leaning back into Natasha’s chest, letting her arms slink around your waist and keep you close to her despite her desperate need to shower and slip into comfortable clothes. You didn’t mind the weapons digging into your back, or how she smelt of sweat and blood, just glad to have her back home for your favorite day of the year. “I meant it when I said I wouldn’t be able to handle anything bad ever happening to you. I know this is your job, but it doesn’t scare me any less when shit like this happens. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I can’t afford to lose the only happiness I have.”
Wanda’s gentle hands cradled your face as Natasha held onto your body. They cherished your tender heart and all the broken pieces that made you the woman that they loved. “We will always come home to you. No matter what may happen, or who might come for us, you are worth fighting for.” Wanda’s red lips laid the softest kiss on the tip of your nose before Natasha was leading you down the halls and toward the bedroom, sparing a glance at the common room that illuminated a gentle glow as the Christmas tree remained lit in the farthest corner from the entryway. The fight wasn’t worth it anymore. Not when they had so much to lose. Maybe now, in snow soaked stealth suits bearing bruises and cuts and the blood of the enemy, they could finally find peace within their broken hearts to give this up.
“Let’s get you out of these clothes, dorogoy.” Natasha’s husky voice sent shivers up your spine as Wanda closed your bedroom door gently, not wanting to disturb the rest of the compound anymore than you already had. Natasha’s fingers worked at pulling your shorts off, and then your top, discarding them on the floor to be dealt with later. Wanda didn’t need to be asked to grab you a change of clothes, already scouring through the closet until she found the matching pajamas you’d ordered a month ago. Two days ago, you laid in bed alone, staring angrily into the dark closet wishing you’d never even ordered them. You hated the reminder of what you didn’t have, of what you might never have again, but in this moment, you knew it was the right call. As Natasha laid kisses from the lobe of your ear, down your neck, and past the blades of your shoulders that were tense from nights of restless sleep, you knew you didn't regret a single thing that led up to this moment.
Wanda was the first to get changed, slipping into the red and white checkered pajamas set with ease and leaving her stealth suit in a ball on the floor to be dealt with later. Her callused hands replaced Natasha’s on your bare waist when the older redhead peeled away to change her clothes, you melted into her rough hands, sighing in content when she began to work out the knots in your back and shoulder blades. “Did I ever tell you your fingers are magical?” You practically moaned when she hit a sensitive spot between your shoulder blades, wincing away from her touch before you sank back in. She giggled, letting her lips dance across your neck softly.
“Once or twice.” She teased, but just as quickly as she coaxed you into her grip, she was pulling away and helping you get dressed, only pausing when her green eyes caught sight of something hanging from the ceiling. With your shirt halfway over your head and your shorts hanging off your waist yet to be tied, your eyebrows furrowed as she twisted in her grip and looked at her.
“What?” You asked breathlessly, letting your fingers dance along her cheekbones. The bed rustled as Natasha climbed in, and seconds later you heard her beautiful laugh as she looked up toward the ceiling.
“Look up.” She hummed, and Wanda took that as an invitation to settle a finger beneath your chin and tilt your head upward toward the ceiling. Despite the lack of Christmas in your bedroom, one single stock of mistletoe hung from a string, hardly visible in the darkness of midnight that engulfed you like a warm blanket after days of feeling like a punishment.
“Mistletoe.” You mused gently, letting your lips crash against hers in a passionate embrace that you had so desperately longed for. Climbing into bed to share the same passion with Natasha, your forehead rested against hers heavily as you panted for breath. “Remind me to thank Tony later.”
Your girlfriends laughed as you settled into bed, four arms hanging off of your body as you were sandwiched in the middle, finally at peace after three weeks of agony. “Merry Christmas.” You whispered into the dark as sleep took over.
Wanda kissed the back of your head and Natasha kissed your hand, both entirely content with this simple little moment that was entirely deserved. “Merry Christmas, detka.”
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pin-k-ink · 16 days
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apodyopsis // gojo satoru
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tw ⇢ teacher-student relationship, wet dreams, implied masturbation, teasing, face fucking, blow job, degradation, name calling, unprotected sex, fingering, spanking, cunnilingus, begging, dirty talk, biting, squirting
wc ⇢ 6.7k
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The pre-dawn stillness was a weighted hush blanketing the dorms in velveteen quiet, its silence broken only by the occasional murmur of a somnolent student or rustling of restless bedsheets. For you, however, slumber remained an elusive wraith dancing maddeningly at the periphery of your consciousness.
You tossed fretfully beneath the covers, limbs tangling amid the cocooning bedlinens as your mind whirred with feverish wakefulness. No matter how you willed your thoughts towards blissful oblivion, they continued spiraling back towards that same smoldering nexus.
Gojo Satoru.
Just the whisper of his name through your internal musings was enough to rekindle those now all-too-familiar tendrils of forbidden yearning. You groaned in frustration, scrubbing your palms over burning cheeks as you struggled to dispel the intrusive visions that lurked behind your tightly squeezed lids.
Your teacher's powerful frame, taut with sinewy grace as he demonstrated the day's forms with that typical indolent, feline confidence... The fall of his shimmering hair shifting to reveal scorching sidelong glimpses of his ruggedly chiseled features... His voice, pitched in those low, velvet-hushed registers that somehow seemed to caress your very nerve endings...
You bit back another strangled whimper, already perilously close to losing yourself in the intoxicating imagery flowing through your mind's eye. A part of you recognized the madness of such hopeless infatuation - Gojo was your teacher, after all, as well as one of the most lauded sorcerers of your generation. To covet him in this way was pure fantasy, a suicidal taboo.
And yet, another more insidious whisper urged you onwards, fanning the smoldering embers of desire until your body felt fever-flushed and thrumming with taut, maddened yearning.
With a shuddering exhalation, you surrendered to the delicious torture. If this was insanity, so be it - you would gladly go feverishly mad dreaming of him. Already, the visions grew more twisted, more lascivious, thrilling darkly through your veins like a sudden injection of searing sin.
Your breath hitched in tiny, frantic pants as the fantasy unspooled, cradling you in its velvet-gloved depravity. Gojo looming over you in the sweltering dark, gaze caged by the curtaining fall of his white lashes yet somehow still managing to scorch like twin supernovas. A sinuous grin of dark promise curving the hard angle of his mouth as he leaned closer, closer, until all you knew was the searing brand of his body aligned hotly against yours.
Those wicked lips would descend in a punishing sweep, laying claim with blistering intensity as his powerful frame bracketed your far slighter one. Each delirious moan was swallowed, consumed, stoking your ardor to conflagrant new infernos with every dizzying exchange. There was nothing tender, nothing gentle in this devouring rapture, only a raw and desperate hunger as he feasted on your body.
By the time his hips rocked against yours in a teasing slide of his heavy arousal, you were utterly undone, lost to the sweet torment of his touch. You could feel the delicious drag of his length, already so slick and slippery with your dripping need, poised at your aching core. The blunt tip nudged against your opening, once, twice, and then-
You writhed beneath his dominance, any hope of restraint or inhibition burned away in that molten inferno. A vocalized litany of need poured from your bitten lips, shameless pleas for Gojo's mercy, for the benediction of his touch through every sin-scorched landscape of your body-
With a violent start, you jolted awake, chest heaving and skin damp with sweat-slicked exertion. The feverish remnants of that delirious fantasy clung to your addled senses like the ephemeral wisps of a shattered dream.
You were scarcely aware of the muffled groan that parted your lips, nor of the shaky hand that slid downward to ghost over the throbbing ache between your legs. It was only when you felt the dampness of your panties, the swollen nub of your clit twitching under the feather-light pressure, that you realized just how deeply you'd fallen into that heated fantasy.
For a dazed handful of breaths, you could hardly process what had just occurred - the stunning loss of control, the buckling submission to something as dangerously seductive as the forbidden fantasies of your teacher, your mentor-
Were you moaning his name?
A smothered whine slipped free as the reckless recollections took root anew. How could you possibly face him later, meet the searing weight of his stare and not combust from the inside out? Mortification and shame warred with that same plaintive, desperate longing still thrumming hot through your veins.
With trembling fingers and only the faintest grasp on coherence, you groped blindly for your phone on the nightstand. The light from its cracked display seared your overly sensitized retinas, but you refused to let it deter you as you fired off a hasty text to your most trusted confidant detailing every filthy, depraved facet of the fantasy.
There, you thought with a shaky exhale as the final message sent. Maybe purging the lurid details would also help purge the fantasy from your overwrought psyche.
Famous last words.
The dull glow of your phone's cracked display seemed to blaze like a supernova in the pre-dawn stillness of your dorm room. You blinked blearily, still caught in the smoldering vestiges of the deliriously vivid dream that had finally relinquished its feverish hold on your slumber.
With trembling fingers, you tapped out a hasty text to your best friend, the only person you could conceivably confide in about the lascivious, wildly inappropriate fantasies featuring your teacher that had plagued your unconscious mind.
The words fairly poured out in a torrent of hushed desperation, each lurid recollection more scandalous than the last. The exact timbre of Gojo's velvet-husked growls as he pinned you beneath the scorching brand of his body...the exquisite agony rapture of his cock plunging into your tight, dripping core...the searing bliss of his cum painting your skin in his possessive claim...the way his fingers tangled in your hair, forcing your head back and jaw open wide for the hot spurt of his seed as he claimed your mouth...
You spared no detail, no filthy nuance or whisper of depraved intimacy. The fantasy - if one could even call it that - had consumed you so thoroughly, searing away every pretense of restraint or propriety until you were left bare and aching with the desperate need for release. The consecration of being possessed utterly by a man you should never have yearned for in the first place, let alone fantasized about with such explosive fervor.
With a trembling exhalation, you hit send and let the damning record spill out into the cold digital ether. There, you thought with a sickly lurch of equal parts shame and lascivious relief. It was out of your system, safely partitioned away where it could no longer wield such dark, heady influence over your tenuous grasp on coherence.
At least, that's what you desperately hoped as you slipped back into an uneasy slumber, haunted by echoing Whispers of unholy raptures still lingering from the night's delirium.
If only you had known the true, devastating ramifications your little midnight confession would bring...
Hours later, the jarring blare of the morning wake-up klaxons lanced through your groggy consciousness like a cacophonous call to penance. You stirred with a piteous groan, every muscle protesting the demands of wakefulness after so little rest.
The usual flurry of morning ablutions and dressing passed by in a bleary blur of motion and muffled sounds. But it wasn't until you padded into the dojo's hushed antechamber, fingers deftly securing your hair into a simple topknot, that full awareness came crashing back in a sickening wave of dread.
There, awaiting you just on the other side of the shoji door, was the very man who had starred in your sordid, lust-soaked fantasies. The man you had spent the better part of the previous night dreaming about plowing into your sopping, desperate core until you were screaming his name and begging for release. The man you were now utterly petrified to face, let alone hold focus beneath that banked, smoldering stare without combusting from the inside out.
You froze in the entryway, poised in the heart of a sleepwalker's stillness as guilt and illicit desire warred for dominance. How could you possibly look Gojo Satoru in the eye today, of all days? To weather the weight of his piercing crimson scrutiny and not simply confess every mortifying detail on bended knee?
The prospect was unthinkable, untenable. Which meant the only sane course was to...what? Flee? Abandon your duties and sacred calling over some inconvenient fevered dreams, no matter how deliriously inappropriate?
No, you couldn't do that. Not after the endless hours of dedication and struggle to claw your way to this hallowed state. You were stronger than your base desires, stronger than the tangled morass of desperate cravings that still thrummed thrillingly beneath your straining composure.
Straightening your spine with a fortifying inhale, you slid the chamber's door aside to reveal the already unfolding morning session. The training floor stretched before you in a polished immaculata of gleaming hardwood, sectioned rice papel screens filtering the daylight into hushed jade-tinged refractions. A handful of junior students moved through the opening forms under Gojo's watchful crimson scrutiny, his presence as undeniable and potent as a bonfire amidst the frigid tranquility.
You approached with measured, silent strides, endeavoring to overlay your turbulent inner discord with an aura of serene poise. Just take your position among the ranks and maintain focus - that was the key. Gojo was your teacher, your esteemed mentor, and nothing more. He deserved your utmost respect and dedication.
He would never know the depths of the unholy reverie you'd indulged, the shameless fantasies in which you'd utterly surrendered to his imagined dominion. This was just an ordinary training session. Routine and sacred, just like any other.
Little did you realize, you'd already forfeited what tattered shreds remained of your composure the moment you pressed 'send' on those scandalous confessions...
The thick tension blanketing the dojo was utterly suffocating as Gojo's molten stare bored into you from across the training floor. You fought to maintain your composure, limbs flowing through the familiar forms and stances with practiced precision. But despite your staunch outward control, your mind whirled in panicked disarray.
There was no way, simply no feasible possibility that Gojo could know the depraved, wildly inappropriate fantasies you'd indulged in last night. The sordid images and sensations were still fresh enough to ignite tendrils of blazing mortification licking through your veins. Just the fleeting recollections alone - his powerful frame looming over you, lips trailing liquid fire paths across your fevered skin as he urged forth your unraveling - were enough to bring a scorching blush to your cheeks.
You chanced a furtive glance in Gojo's direction, immediately regretting it when you found his gaze locked onto you with unsettling intensity. There was an edge to that stare, a dark promise lurking behind the usual disaffected ennui. Interpreting it sent a convulsive shiver streaking down your spine.
As if sensing your covert appraisal, the slightest of smirks curved Gojo's lips. "You look a little flushed over there," he drawled, the rasped insinuation making you flinch. "Was your mind wandering to...inappropriate places again?"
You sputtered, mouth working soundlessly for a moment as panic gripped you. There was simply no way he could be privy to your indecent daydreams, no plausible avenue for them to manifest beyond the iron walls of your discretion. Right?
Gojo tsked, straightening from his lazy lean against the wall to stalk towards you with leonine grace. Each rolling stride seemed to ripple with coiled power and masculine potency. You swallowed thickly, fingers twitching against the desperate urge to tug at your collar.
"Still playing coy, I see," he murmured, coming to loom at your back so near you could feel the scorching whisper of his breath against your nape. "But we both know you've been having some very...naughty thoughts about your sensei. Forbidden little fantasies unbecoming of a focused pupil."
Your face flamed, confirming his suspicions as you cursed your inability to force down the telltale swell of arousal kindling low in your belly. How could this be happening?
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," you stammered, cursing the thinness of your voice. "Those are just baseless accusations-"
"Is that so?" Gojo all but purred, the words shaped in a salacious lilt against the sensitive whorls of your ear. "So you didn't spend last night writhing in drenched sheets, desperate fingers plunging into your slick little cunt while you fantasized about your sensei pounding you into a screaming, sopping mess?"
You jolted, a strangled keen escaping your constricted throat at the shockingly explicit parallels he had described down to the lascivious detail. There was no possible way...unless...oh gods.
With a sudden spike of visceral recollection, you remembered the drunken texts you'd fired off last night. The breathless, incriminating confessions of every lurid, soul-scorching facet of that all-consuming fantasy laid bare for your confidante's eyes. Or rather, who you thought had been your confidante.
A wrecked sound of pure chagrin slipped free as you connected the final pieces - you must have tapped the wrong contact in your addled, post-reverie haze and sent those torrid details directly to Gojo himself. Which meant...he knew it all. Literally every lascivious intimacy you had entertained about your mentor now lingered in his possession like some unholy bounty.
"I see that horrified little sound means you're catching on," Gojo chuckled then, the deep reverberation tinged with sadistic delight. "Good girl. I was wondering when you'd put it all together like the clever little minx you are."
His mouth hovered a hairsbreadth from the feverish hollow beneath your ear as his next husked words sank molten hooks into your sanity.
"Now, since I know every last depraved detail already, why don't you go ahead and give your sensei a little replay, hmm? Don't leave anything out, no matter how filthy or profane it might be..."
The world seemed to tilt dizzily underfoot as Gojo's soft rumble of mocking commanded you to voice every blasphemous, lust-drenched nuance of your forbidden reverie aloud. You were paralyzed, throat insistent and arid as the mortification of such obscene admission warred with the increasingly feverish spiral of yearning coiling low in your abdomen.
This was madness, a line too profane to be uncrossed surely. Yet you wavered, lingering on a precipice overlooking nothing but the most scintillating transgressions...and eternal rapture beyond.
A heavy silence fell over the dojo, the weighted tension near suffocating in its intensity. You remained rooted in place, paralyzed beneath the scorching heat of Gojo's stare and the utterly salacious implications he had voiced.
Part of you trembled with humiliated revulsion at the thought of confessing the depraved nuances of your fever dream aloud. It felt like a transgression too profane, too far across the boundaries of sacred student-teacher trust to ever be uncrossed.
And yet...another part of you, one you found increasingly difficult to silence, thrilled with illicit fascination at the prospect. Gojo's words had ignited smoldering embers of forbidden yearning in your depths, whispering insidious permission to shed propriety's shackles, if only for a few breathless moments.
You wet your lips, casting about for some fragmentary thread of denial or composure to cling to. But there was only the weighted tension spooling out between you and your darkly magnetic mentor as he awaited your answer with supreme, unruffled confidence.
"Well?" Gojo's silken prompt sliced through the stifling quiet, edged with a mocking lilt that made tendrils of pure molten desire unfurl low in your belly. "Don't tell me the deliciously depraved fantasy that had you whimpering and thrashing has flown that pretty little head already?"
You flushed deeply, chagrin and arousal swirling in a dizzying eddies. He was enjoying this far too much - dangling your unforgivable indiscretions before you like the ripest forbidden fruit. Worse, you could feel the first tremulous fingers of capitulation beginning to loosen your restraint and unlatch the dam of pent-up cravings.
Gojo's smirk deepened, somehow both seductively inviting and indecently vulpine all at once. "I'm waiting, pet," he purred, the words shaped in wicked promise. "Give us a taste of whatever lewd scenarios had you so thoroughly undone. Don't be shy now..."
A whimper slipped free as your resolve crumbled in increments. You opened your mouth to unleash the first husked, sacreligious confession...only to be silenced by the sudden, shocking collision of Gojo's mouth against yours.
It was a kiss utterly devoid of preamble or finesse, all scintillating possession and scorching demands as his hand fisted in your hair to angle your stunned submission. You made a strangled sound against the velvet plunder, every nerve ending erupting into searing detonate as he brought the full brunt of his virility and dark intent to bear.
This was no mere impulsive breach of propriety, but rather the gleeful obliteration of all remaining boundaries in a blinding conflagration of pure, untempered desire. Gojo consumed your gasping whimpers and pleas, stoking your shuddering capitulation higher with each lascivious sweep of his tongue and punishing nip of teeth.
By the time he at last wrenched away, his chest was heaving in a matching cadence to your own ragged pants. For a suspended breath, you could only gape at him, insensate and utterly undone in the most profoundly carnal sense imaginable. His grin was nothing short of wickedly conquering as he dragged a calloused thumb over your abused, desire-slicked lips.
"Somehow, I get the feeling mere words won't suffice for properly indulging your lustful appetites any longer," Gojo rumbled in that gravel-husked timbre that seemed to vibrate straight through your enflamed senses. "Lucky for you, I'm in a generous mood to demonstrate, pet..."
And with no further preamble, he hauled you flush against the searing brand of his body once more as the world shattered into fevered shards of blissful, profane rapture.
There was no hesitation, no pretense of restraint or propriety left in the wake of Gojo's all-consuming dominance. Every caress was a claim, every heated, growled command a sacred edict, each and every one intended to reduce you to a shivering, whimpering mess utterly enslaved to his will.
He had you naked and keening beneath him in a matter of heartbeats, fingers twitching and twisting at his belt buckle until he batted your hands away. You pouted at the denial, only to have him chuckle darkly as he loomed over your writhing, needy form.
"Ah-ah," he rasped, seizing both wrists and pinning them above your head. "This isn't about your pleasure. This is a lesson, pet, and I intend to take my sweet, sweet time in teaching it."
He leaned down, the hard planes of his muscled torso dragging sinuously against yours as he claimed your mouth in another brutal, searing kiss. He swallowed each moan and gasp as he plundered your depths, his tongue a velvet-honed weapon as he stoked your pleasure higher and higher.
By the time he released your mouth, you were panting, utterly undone and writhing with unquenched need. Gojo smirked, his azure gaze searing with the weight of a thousand unholy vows as he began his slow, torturous descent down the length of your body.
"Now let's see if that naughty little fantasy was as filthy as you professed, hmm?" he rasped, fingers teasing down the slope of your breasts to tease their pebbled peaks. "Or should I say, 'fantasies?'"
He grinned wickedly, teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your inner thigh and making you buck and cry out.
"Yes, I believe that's what you said, weren't they? You spent last night fantasizing about my cock stretching your pretty little cunt open, about my cum painting you from the inside out..." He groaned, the vibrations humming straight through to the tender, aching apex of your thighs. "What else? Tell me, pet. Let me hear how depraved that filthy little mind truly is."
A strangled, needy whimper tore from your lips as he resumed his leisurely, agonizing torture. Each lick and scrape of teeth against your fevered flesh stoked the smoldering coals of arousal even hotter, until you were practically trembling with need.
Gojo chuckled, the sound vibrating against your swollen clit and making you arch and keen. "Tell me," he commanded once more, his voice a low, dark threat that made your walls flutter around nothing. "Don't make me ask again, pet."
"I-" Your voice broke on a choked groan as his tongue flicked out once more, circling the throbbing apex of your clit with maddening, featherlight pressure. "I-I dreamed about you fucking me on the floor of the dojo, sensei. Just like this. Pinning me down and filling me with your cock, with your cum until I was dripping and stuffed full of it-"
A wrecked sound tumbled past your lips as Gojo rewarded your compliance with the first thrust of his fingers, long and thick and curling just so within you. He smirked against your dripping folds, the expression pure depraved indulgence.
"That wasn’t all, was it?" he rasped, the words shaped in a filthy litany against your sex. "You said something else. Something...filthier. Why don't you tell me all about it?"
His fingers curled mercilessly inside you, stroking and rubbing in tandem with the maddening swirl of his tongue around your clit. Your thighs trembled, a fine sheen of sweat misting your fevered flesh. The pleasure was a delirious inferno, threatening to engulf you and consume you in its white-hot embrace.
"Tell me," Gojo growled once more, the vibrations rippling through your overwrought senses. "What was the rest of it?"
The dam finally burst, spilling forth a tidal wave of sordid revelations.
"I dreamed about you using me, fucking my mouth, forcing your cock down my throat, sensei. You were using me like a toy, fucking every hole until I was full of your cum and screaming, begging for more. You made me worship you, forced me to swallow every last drop like the good little whore I am, and I loved every second of it-"
Your babbling confession broke on a choked scream as Gojo's mouth sealed around your clit and sucked, his fingers stroking mercilessly within you until the world was nothing but the searing heat and unbridled rapture. Your climax swept over you in an engulfing torrent, the sheer force of it leaving you blind and breathless.
Gojo continued his relentless assault, wringing every last gasp and tremor from your trembling body until you were a boneless heap, utterly wrecked and undone. His grin was positively savage, the crimson blaze of his gaze a dark promise as he crawled up the length of your spent body.
"Look at that, a perfect little dream come true," he murmured, his lips tracing a path up your heaving, fevered skin. "What else do you want, pet? What more could a shameless little slut like you possibly desire?"
His fingers twined with yours, pressing your palms back into the hardwood as his mouth hovered mere breaths from yours. Your pulse skittered wildly, still reeling and thrumming from the intensity of your climax. But despite your dazed exhaustion, the need remained, a deep, gnawing ache in the core of your very being.
"You know," Gojo husked, his smirk widening. "If you're feeling up to it, we could always play a little game of...what was it again? Oh yes, 'fucking my mouth and forcing your cock down my throat'?"
He chuckled, the low reverberations vibrating through you and making you moan.
"Is that what you want, pet?" he continued, his voice pitched to a husked rasp. "For me to use that pretty little mouth like the cock sleeve it was clearly meant to be?"
You nodded frantically, unable to resist the lure of his words, of his potent, dark promise. The need was an absolute frenzy, an unbearable ache you were desperate to quench.
"Say it," Gojo growled, his grip tightening as he pinned you beneath the blistering weight of his stare. "Say it aloud, pet. Beg me for it."
"Please," you whined, hips rocking and straining for more contact. "Please, sensei, fuck my mouth, force your cock down my throat, use me like the dirty little cock sleeve I am. Please, I want it, please-"
You were cut off by the searing press of Gojo's lips against yours, his mouth claiming yours with a raw, possessive edge that sent shivers cascading down your spine. He kissed you breathless, consuming every needy whimper and plea until he was all that remained.
"That's a good girl," he growled, the words shaped in a heated rasp against the hollow of your throat. "So good for me. Now open up."
He was already shifting into position above you, his powerful frame looming in a sinuous predatory crawl. You could see the heavy length of his cock jutting from the part of his unfastened trousers, a thick, angry curve of flesh and iron. A fresh surge of arousal coursed through you, making your thighs clench and walls clamp around nothing.
You barely had a moment to take in his virile, dominant stance before Gojo's hand was fisting in your hair and guiding the fat, swollen crown of his cock past the part of your lips.
"Open," he ordered, his menacing stare pinning you in place as he fed his thick shaft into your open, willing mouth.
The salty tang of him exploded across your tongue, a potent mix of salt and dark male musk that made you moan. He was impossibly large, the girth stretching your jaw wide and stuffing you nearly to the point of discomfort. But you wanted more, craved it desperately, and so you sucked and laved at him with unbridled enthusiasm.
Gojo's eyes fluttered closed, his head lolling back as a guttural groan escaped him. The sight was intoxicating, empowering, knowing you could draw such a visceral reaction from him.
"That's it," he rasped, his hips pumping a slow, steady rhythm into the wet clutch of your mouth. "You were born to suck my cock, weren't you, pet? Who knew the prim little pupil I had in my classroom would be such a filthy little cocksucker beneath the surface."
You moaned around his shaft, the vibration making him hiss. You could feel the feverish slick of arousal coating your thighs, the desire for him to plunge between them, to claim you completely in the most base way possible, mounting to a fever pitch.
Gojo's grip tightened in your hair, forcing you to look up at him. His expression was positively carnal, his gaze blazing with lust and dominance.
"You want more, don't you, slut? Want me to fuck your throat, to make you choke on my cock and use you like the perfect little whore you are." It was a statement, not a question, but you nodded anyway, desperate to have him claim you in every possible way.
He smiled then, a slow, wicked baring of teeth. "My pleasure."
Without further warning, he thrust deep, driving the blunt tip of his cock to the back of your throat. You sputtered and gagged, eyes watering as your throat convulsed around the intrusion. But he didn't relent, didn't show a modicum of mercy as he fucked you in long, deep strokes.
You were completely at his mercy, utterly enslaved to his dark desires. But as the world narrowed to nothing beyond the thick, punishing thrusts and the salty-slick taste of him on your tongue, you were certain there was nowhere else you'd rather be.
He used you thoroughly, taking his fill and then some. And when he finally pulled free, you were gasping and drenched in a sheen of sweat, the rawness of your throat and the swollen mess of your mouth the only proof of what had just transpired. He didn’t stop, only tugging at his cock as he stared down at you, his gaze searing with unholy promise.
"Now wrap those pretty lips around my balls, pet," he rasped. "I want you to suck on them until I say you're done."
You obeyed, eagerly parting your lips and drawing his sack into the damp heat of your mouth. You lavished attention on the velveteen skin, reveling in the groan that tore from his chest and the way his muscles tensed.
"Fuck, yes, just like that. You love sucking on my balls, don't you, slut?"
You moaned around his heavy sack, the vibrations making him hiss and thrust against your face. He was so hard, the veins of his cock throbbing as he pumped his length in rough, urgent motions.
"You want it, don't you? You want my cum. Tell me where, pet. Where do you want me to come all over you?"
"On my face, sensei," you whimpered, releasing his sack with a lewd pop. "Please, I want it, want your cum on my face."
"Good girl," he purred, his gaze raking over you in a molten caress. "Keep those pretty lips open and that tongue out."
You did as he commanded, your heart pounding in anticipation. He stroked himself with renewed vigor, his cock glistening with your saliva and the pre-cum beading at the tip.
"Here it comes, slut. Take it all."
His words were barely out before his cock twitched in his hand, a thick, pearlescent jet erupting from the head and painting your face. You moaned, the taste of him flooding your mouth as his spend coated your tongue and cheeks.
He worked his shaft through the throes of his orgasm, painting your skin with his release until you were completely marked by him. You were breathless, trembling, your own climax an insistent, gnawing ache between your thighs.
"What do you say, slut?" Gojo rasped, using the tip of his cock to swipe a dollop of cum from your cheek and pressing it past your lips. "Show some respect for your teacher."
"Thank you, sensei," you whispered, the words a reverent prayer on your swollen lips. "Thank you for using me."
His answering grin was positively wicked. "You're very welcome, pet. Now roll over and present that dripping little cunt for me."
The command sent a tremor rippling through you, a desperate thrill of anticipation and apprehension. Because you knew there was no turning back now, no chance for retreat or denial. You had already crossed too many lines, shattered too many sacred boundaries, and there was no going back.
Gojo was the living embodiment of your darkest, most depraved fantasies, and now, he intended to bring every last one to glorious, rapturous fruition.
Your breath caught as he nudged your knees apart and settled his weight atop you, his cock a scorching brand against the fevered curve of your ass. He was so much larger than you, his power and masculinity a palpable aura that enveloped and consumed you utterly.
His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, his voice a seductive growl. "Do you know how often I've imagined this, pet? How often I've wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck you raw until you were begging and screaming for release? Do you know how difficult it's been, to maintain even a modicum of restraint when every part of me wants to claim you, to ruin you, to make you mine completely?"
He punctuated his words with a sharp nip of teeth against the vulnerable skin beneath your ear, sending a shudder rippling down your spine. "When you sent me that naughty little confession, the one where you dreamed about me using you, fucking your mouth and forcing my cock down your throat..."
He groaned, his hands flexing against your hips as his cock slid against your sopping folds. "It nearly broke my restraint, pet. To hear how badly you wanted me to fuck you, to use every hole like the perfect little cocksleeve you were destined to be..."
He pressed forward, the first teasing press of his thick cock against your aching entrance stealing the breath from your lungs.
"I've waited so long, been so patient," he murmured, the words shaped in a velvet-honed threat. "But now that I know the depths of your depravity, now that I know exactly how filthy that naughty little mind of yours can be, I intend to claim you in every possible way. Until the only name you remember is mine, the only touch you crave is mine, the only thing you feel is me, deep inside you, branding you as mine, over and over again. Understand?"
You nodded, your mouth too dry for any sound but a faint whimper to escape. But that was enough, for the next moment, he was pushing inside, his thick shaft parting your tender, dripping folds inch by torturous inch.
Your breath hitched, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth hardwood beneath you. It was so much, too much, the sensation of being so thoroughly and completely filled by him making your head spin and walls clench around his girth.
He was unrelenting, forcing you to stretch to accommodate his size, his strength, his virility. You could feel the sweat misting your fevered flesh, your nails digging furrows in the polished wood as he bottomed out with a guttural groan.
"So tight, so perfect, pet," he gritted out, his grip on your hips punishing. "I knew you would be, but this, this is a goddamn revelation."
He drew back, only to slam back inside with a force that stole the breath from your lungs. He set a brutal pace, fucking you with long, deep strokes that left no doubt who was in control, who owned every gasp and whimper and plea spilling from your lips.
"I love how you clench around me, pet. Like you can't get enough. Is that what you want? For me to fill you up, to breed you, to stuff your pretty little cunt with my cum?"
"Yes, sensei," you sobbed, the pleasure bordering on agony. "Please, use me, fuck me, fill me with your cum, make me yours, please-"
Your babbling entreaties were cut off by his palm smacking down on your ass, the impact and sting making you yelp.
"You're not the one calling the shots here, pet. Behave yourself or I'll punish you, and we won't get to the good part until I'm damn well ready for it."
His words were a harsh growl, but they sent a frisson of pure, illicit pleasure coursing through you. The thought of him disciplining you, of being punished for your misbehavior, was a dark, depraved fantasy too delicious to ignore.
"Maybe I like being punished," you dared, your voice a breathless challenge.
You weren't prepared for the growl that tore from his chest or the sudden, punishing thrust of his cock inside you. You cried out, the pleasure and pain blurring into an indecipherable haze of white-hot ecstasy.
"Is that what you want?" he snarled, his teeth sinking into the nape of your neck. "To be punished, to be used, to be broken and remade under my hand, my body, my will? I can do that, pet. I can take you to the precipice of madness and leave you begging for more."
He punctuated the threat with another brutal thrust, making you keen and buck beneath him. Your thighs were trembling, the tension in your core a tight coil threatening to snap at any moment. You could feel him thickening inside you, his own release drawing near.
"Answer me, slut. Is that what you want? To be punished, to be broken, to be used and fucked and ruined until you're screaming and writhing in my hold, unable to walk, to speak, to breathe, without feeling the memory of me seared into every inch of you?"
You were barely coherent, the pleasure and pressure an overwhelming deluge threatening to drown you. "Yes," you sobbed, the word a wrecked plea on your lips. "Yes, sensei, please, punish me, ruin me, use me, please, I need it, need you, please-"
The last syllable had barely slipped free before his hand came down in a punishing smack against your ass, the impact forcing the air from your lungs in a strangled cry. The pain and pleasure blurred together in a searing torrent, and before you could process it, he was spanking you again and again, the harsh impacts and stinging pain making you writhe and buck beneath him.
Your ass was on fire, but you were helpless, pinned and skewered and utterly enslaved to his will. His palm connected with your burning flesh once more, the sensation making you clench around his girth and keening whine.
"I can feel you clenching around me, pet. You love this, don't you? Love being used and fucked and punished, being treated like the slut you are."
You couldn't speak, couldn't think, the only sounds coming from your mouth incoherent whimpers and pleas. The pleasure was a blinding inferno, and you were helpless to do anything but ride it out, clinging to the edge of sanity by the thinnest of threads.
You could feel the tension coiling inside you, the pressure building and mounting to a crescendo. Gojo's own strokes were growing ragged and uneven, his breaths a harsh, erratic cadence against your skin.
"Come for me, pet. Come for me while I fuck you, while I breed you, while I mark you as mine."
He punctuated his snarled command with a merciless thrust, and the tension inside you finally snapped. You came apart with a hoarse cry, your entire body trembling and convulsing as you gushed an obscene amount of hot, fragrant liquid all over his cock and the floor below.
You were lost, adrift in a sea of bliss and pleasure and rapture, and still, he didn't stop. He fucked you through your climax, his cock plunging deeper and deeper until the only thing that mattered was the feeling of him inside you, filling you, claiming you, owning you.
He came with a guttural groan, his cock pulsing and twitching as he painted your inner walls with his seed. It was filthy, depraved, and still, you couldn't help but moan at the sensation of him flooding your cunt. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, dripping down your thighs, but still, you clung to him, unwilling to let him go.
You lay there in a spent heap, panting and trembling, your whole body flushed and sweat-damp. The only sounds were your labored breaths, and even those were beginning to even out as you recovered from the intensity of your shared release.
Gojo was still inside you, his cock softening and your walls still fluttering around him in the aftershocks. You could feel the sticky remnants of his cum leaking out, coating your thighs, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You felt utterly and completely fucked out, and there was no other place you'd rather be.
With a low groan, Gojo finally pulled out, leaving you feeling empty and used in the best possible way. His hand stroked along your spine, the gesture strangely tender and possessive at the same time.
"What did I say, pet? Perfect, just like I knew you'd be," he murmured, his lips tracing a path along your neck. "You took me so well, so perfectly. I could stay here forever, buried deep inside you."
You shivered, a fresh wave of desire coiling low in your abdomen despite the fact that he had just fucked you senseless. "Then do it," you whispered, the words shaped in a sultry invitation. "Take me again, sensei."
His answering chuckle was dark and wicked, sending a frisson of anticipation and desire rippling down your spine. "My sweet, greedy little slut," he murmured, his teeth scraping against the delicate curve of your ear. "We'll have plenty of time for that. For now, I have a lesson to finish teaching."
Your breath caught, a fresh shiver of arousal coiling low in your belly. You couldn't see his face, but you could hear the wicked, teasing smirk in his voice. "What was it you said earlier, pet? That I would be using every hole until you were stuffed full of my cum?"
The words sent a shudder rippling through you, and already, you could feel yourself growing wet and aching for him once more. "Yes," you breathed, barely daring to believe your fantasies would come true.
"Then it's a good thing I've got all day to show you exactly what that means, isn't it, pet?"
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steveshairychest · 1 year
Text
Steve and Robin have been working at the plant nursery for months. It was the only job that would hire them both, and it's honestly been the best job they've had.
Steve loves taking care of the plants, loves the way the outdoor plants wave at him in the wind and sparkle in the sunlight after he's watered them. No one gives him weird looks when he talks to the plants because everyone that comes in understands, they're all plant people too, they know talking to plants is hard to resist. Steve loves that they are very good listeners, especially the ferns in the back corner of the nursery. They brush their long arms against Steve's cheek and make him feel so much better after he's finished dumping all his problems on the poor plant.
And then they get a new employee, a guy with long curly hair and too many tattoos and piercings for Steve to count. His name is Eddie. And he does not have a green thumb. Not at all.
Steve can't understand why the nursery hired this guy! He's hopeless!
Steve watches in horror from behind his beloved ferns as Eddie accidentally chops the head off one of the gorgeous rose blooms while pruning and then tries to hide the evidence. He walks away from the rose bush with the poor chopped off bloom clenched tightly in his fist and then he dumps it in the compost bin.
Steve spends the rest of the afternoon glaring at the new guy while talking to the poor rose bush. Eddie flushes a shade of red similar to the rose he murdered any time Steve looks at him, and Steve hates how pretty he looks, hates that it causes a small smile to pull at his lips.
And then Eddie drops a watering can on a peace lily, a peace lily that Steve spent weeks nurturing back to life and the spell Eddie put on him with his flushed cheeks and big, brown eyes is broken.
Robin pities the poor new guy, she can see he's struggling, so she just makes him do all the heavy lifting with her. She doesn't want him anywhere near Steve's precious plants. She saw Steve reach for his giant pruning shears a few days ago when Eddie went near his ferns.
"You know he's terrified of you." Robin says to Steve on their joint lunch break. They're sitting on a stack of soil bags watching Eddie potter around and show people the plants they're looking for. Steve will give him that, he's good with people. Really good.
"Why? I'm nice." Steve takes a bite of his sandwich and avoids Robin's stare. He knows she's giving him the 'don't bullshit me' stare and if he looks, he'll crumble and do something ridiculous like admit he has been kinda mean to the new guy and that he should have just helped him out from the start instead of threatening to chop his fingers off every time he touched Steve's plants.
Steve sighs. "OK, fine. I've been a dick." Robin nods and steals the last bite of Steve's sandwich.
"Now, make it right and play nice with the pretty boy."
"He's not pretty."
"That's not what you said to your precious ferns yesterday. I think you said –" Steve walks off before she can finish and ignores her laughter as he stalks over to where Eddie is crouched in front of the baby succulents.
Steve clears his throat to get his attention and the poor guy jumps in fright and nearly smacks a succulent off the stand. "Steve! Hi! I was just talking to them. I promise."
Steve stifles a laugh and sits down on the floor in front of the low plant stand. He gently pulls a dead leaf off one plant before offering Eddie a smile, a truce. "That's good. They like it when you talk to them. I actually sing to them when I'm here alone." His sudden gentleness must spook Eddie because he just blinks at Steve, his mouth open slightly as he stares in disbelief that Steve actually just spoke to him.
"You can sing?" Eddie sits down next to him and mirrors Steve's actions; gently pulling dead leaves off and checking the soil.
"No, I can't." He laughs. "But the plants don't seem to mind."
They sit in silence for a minute before Steve gathers up his small pile of dead leaves and stands up, Eddie follows suit. "I'm sorry I've been such a dick." Steve rushes out before he loses the courage to admit it. "It's just... you're awful with plants."
Eddie laughs, the sound catches Steve off guard and echoes around the nursery, and Steve realises in that moment that he's never heard Eddie laugh before. It's loud and beautiful and Steve wants to hear it again. Every day.
"I know. I don't have a green thumb at all, but this is the only job that would take me. I think the plants want me to quit."
Steve wanted him to quit. He'd grumbled to Robin about it nearly every day. Eddie knew that and he still stayed. He smiles at Steve in a way that says he doesn't mind, he's just teasing.
But Steve still feels like a total asshole.
"I could teach you how to look after them properly." Steve offers. "I should have offered to help weeks ago." He adds on quietly as they walk through the rows and rows of plants. Steve touches all of them gently, he grazes his fingers along their leaves in a friendly greeting.
"I'd like that. I'd like that a lot." Eddie says with a smile so bright it could rival the sun and cause all of the flowers to bloom.
They spend nearly every day at work together after that. Steve helps Eddie learn all the plants' names, their technical names and the secret names Steve's given them all. Steve shows him how to prune and shape the baby hedges and tries not to blush when their fingers touch while passing over the shears. Eddie is a fast learner. He absorbs everything Steve says and then executes it perfectly. He looks over at Steve and smiles excitedly after he successfully prunes the rose bush without chopping a single bloom off.
The more time they spend together, the more Steve becomes aware of the feeling blooming in his chest. It tickles his ribs and causes him to blush and bump shoulders with Eddie more often, causes him to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Eddie's ear and brush his hand along Eddie’s back whenever he passes him.
The new bloom in his heart causes him to kiss Eddie in the back corner of the nursery behind the ferns.
Turns out Eddie has a green thumb after all because there is something so beautiful blooming between them, and so far only the ferns know about it.
1K notes · View notes
cathrrrine · 5 months
Text
Perfect / Love Won’t Die
Dominick “Sonny” Carisi x Reader • Law and Order SVU • Domestic Fluff, AFAB!Reader
Summary: Sonny happily holds the bouquet of flowers he bought for his girlfriend only for her to open the door and start crying. He immediately panics, but soon finds himself amused when she reveals the true reason for her tears. AO3
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A/N: I’ve never posted any of my SVU imagines, but I had to with this one :) Happy 2024! My resolution is to post more of my work so I’m digging through all my drafts and posting them lol. Enjoy husband material Carisi <3
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In all the six months you had been dating Sonny, there were never many problems that couldn’t be resolved with a simple conversation or a hug and a kiss on the cheek. As far as Sonny was concerned, it was the perfect relationship. He had gotten to know all your little habits; likes and dislikes, pet peeves, niche obsessions. Six months wasn’t exactly a super long time but it wasn’t short either. After only half a year of dating each other, he’d confidently testify that he had fallen in love with you deeply, enough to want to spend the rest of his life with you. He was happy to get married, have babies, grow old together…the whole shebang.
Things were going steady with you. He couldn’t imagine himself being with anybody else, and he was over the moon to know that you felt the samw way. Long late-night conversations about the future the two of you dreamed of revealed that you wanted him to be a part of it as much as he wanted you. Sure, Sonny was aware of how much of a (hopeless) romantic he could be sometimes, but that was in the past, and all of those relationships weren’t with the right people. His sisters had been talking his ear off ever since high school, warning him about women that would only break his heart. It made him wince just to think about all the red flags they ticked off angrily; gold-diggers, manipulators, emotionally unstable women, emotionally unavailable women…and the likes of it. That and their own broken-heart experiences that prompted very fuelled lectures of examples of men Sonny shouldn’t follow always rang in his mind, even until now.
He’d also been made well aware of how right they were about his exes with a bunch of ‘I told you so’s’ and narrowed eyes, but those relationships were in the past and he was much, much younger (and dumber) than he is now. He only had a couple of serious relationships in his adulthood, which ended up not being the right fit for either parties. Then, his love life got buried under the heavy, heavy load of police work and law school and he never found the time to make himself available in the dating pool. He was always too tired, too beat, too mentally drained. It was never a priority.
Then everything came to a stop and his whole world wouldn’t do anything but revolve around you. Sonny was smitten, like a lovesick puppy who got shot by cupid’s nuclear-powered bazooka as fate would have it.
He never felt this way about anyone in his life before, it was a feeling he relished in and was adamant on not letting go.
You were perfect.
Obviously, you had your flaws, but all only human, none of them fatal. Like how you had a habit of ordering too much food but he ends up being the one to finish it up when you realised your eyes had been bigger than your appetite — but he didn’t mind that at all, in fact he secretly loved being able to feast like a King — or how sometimes, you would arrive 10 minutes late to your dates on one of your busiest weeks, which he never complained about because he had his fair share of being unpunctual as well. Plus, you always made it up to him one way or another.
You were absolutely perfect, inside and out. Sonny thanked God everyday for sending a woman as smart, beautiful and kind as you his way. He’s never felt so lucky.
Sonny knew and loved everything about you, down to your weirdest quirks. If there was a Jeopardy! game where the topic was You, he’d be waving around his trophy like a mad man. What you didn’t tell him, he learned. It was the same way you got to know him. The two of you were always honest with each other, trust being the pillar of your relationship, it was why you got along so well. You knew how to make him happy, as he did for you.
So, why is it that you were crying as he handed you a bouquet of your favourite flowers as soon as you opened the door to your apartment?
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” His sweet smile dropped to a concerned frown, uncomfortable and nervous at your sudden reaction.
There you were in front of him, dressed in your most comfortable pair of pyjama pants and an oversized tee that he was sure once belonged to him, messy hair up that he found extremely adorable. Nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that…well, you were crying.
He always brought you flowers. Was he late? He glanced at the clock on your wall. No…was it something he said? Something he did? Something…he totally forgot about?
“Nothing- no, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong.” You sniffed, hugging the fresh bouquet close to your chest, dipping your nose into the floral fragrance to smell it only to find that the tears had triggered an onslaught of snot. That only made you cry more.
The bubble of nerves in Sonny’s chest was bursting at this point, he was almost worried he was having a heart attack. “Doll, you’re crying, something’s wrong.”
He held out an arm to pull you into a hug and you eagerly sunk into his embrace. You buried your face into the fabric of his suit jacket, breathing in what you could of his faded perfume. His calloused hands stroked your hair, softly caressing your head as he cradled it. He gently peeled you off of him to get a better look of your face, now red and eyes puffy from sobbing.
He held your cheeks between his palms and you pouted, looking up at him with sad doe-like eyes, and if that didn’t break his heart that he must not have one because the look on your face was shattering him in every possible way right now. One of his thumbs swiped a fresh tear off your cheek, he felt you nuzzle into his hand.
The tall blond gently led you to your couch and set the flowers down on the coffee table before cuddling up with you close to his chest. You wrapped your arms around him desperately, wanting nothing more than to be absolutely engulfed by everything Sonny — scent, skin and biceps.
“You’re killing me sweetheart, you gotta tell me what’s gotten you all upset like this.” You felt him kiss the top of your head and love bloomed in your chest immediately. “Come on, doll, what’s up?”
You sighed, big and loud, huffing away all the choked up tears with one big breath. “I swear it’s nothing. I’m so stupid.”
He was quiet for a while until you felt his voice vibrate from his chest again, “Was it…me? Did I do something wrong?”
You whipped your head to look at him, only to be greeted with a very worried expression.
Oh, Sonny. Oh, sweet heavenly innocent Sonny. How could you not love this man with every fibre of your being when he’s got that look in his eyes? The one where his pupils are so dilated, you could see your reflection in his big, blue puppy eyes.
How could you have been so careless?! Of course he’d think you were crying because of him, the sweet stupid man — God, you loved him so much. The thought only made you more emotional…and just like that the waterworks came rushing back in.
“Oh, God, Sonny-“ you hiccuped, pulling yourself away from him to put your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry- it’s not your fault at all,”
The lovesick, worried-sick man shot up next to you to pull you into his arms once again, stomach churning at the wave of emotions you were going through. He couldn’t even detective his way through this, his mind going haywire with every sniff that came from you.
“Then what is it?” He tried to keep the panic out of his voice, “Did something happen at work? Is it that asshole again?”
With what he dealt with at his job, it wasn’t out of the question for his mind to be going down that dark path, but he shoved his anger and panic down to focus on your well-being, remaining rational until you were calm.
That made you shoot up to look at him again, words tumbling out of your mouth hurriedly to curb his worries. “No, no! I’m okay, I’m absolutely fine, Todd — that ass — didn’t do anything to me, I promise you, I swear to God. And it’s not you, it’s not anything even remotely related to anything sane at all. I don’t even know why I’m getting all worked up over a bunch of random things, it’s just so—“
“Doll.” Your boyfriend’s voice pulled you out of your rambling. The loving concern that radiated off of him was enough to bring you back to your senses. Gently, he asked again. “What is it?”
You melted immediately, both embarrassed and exhausted from all the sobbing you had been doing. “I’m on my period.”
Oh.
Oh!
“I know, I’m not usually this emotionally affected but my hormones are all over the place and my TV decided to autoplay The Notebook, now I’m a mess.” You sniffed. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have seen me like this, much less deal with me.”
It was only then that the detective noticed the TV screen, paused on Ryan Gosling’s frowning face.
He tried to stifle his amusement, but it came out in a fit of giggles, much to your dismay.
“It’s not funny.” You pouted.
“I just— I thought—“ His laughter consumed him, shoulders shaking as he held up his palms to his face and ran his fingers through his hair, uncaring of how it would mess it up. Sonny leaned back into the couch and continued to laugh with his hands over his face.
“I’m sorry.” Your voice was so quiet it came out like a squeak, ashamed of how you cried like a baby in front of him. Although the two of you spent plenty times over at each other’s places and hanging out with each other, over the six months he knew you, you never had your hormones hit you this hard. It wasn’t uncommon to you, but it wasn’t a regular occurrence either, and it certainly wasn’t an event Sonny had the pleasure of experiencing…until today.
“It’s okay if you’d prefer to be at your own place right now, I totally get it. I won’t be offended in the least, okay? I’ll call you in the morning.” Some men in the past have been weirded out when this happened to you, so you weren’t lying when you said you wouldn’t be offended — it was ‘your fault’ anyway, that was what you had grown accustomed to.
But Sonny, the ever-loving and understanding guy, did not share the same view. Of course not! Raised-with-sisters, loves-his-mother, thoroughly Italian, good-Catholic-man-who-respects-women Sonny, would never in a million years ever even think about being upset with you just because your period messed with your emotions. And that’s why you weren’t sure why you were so surprised when he responded to your offer with a kiss.
This was Sonny. He would never think lowly of you because of something you couldn’t control.
“That’s crazy talk, doll.” He mumbled into the kiss, smiling as he continued to love on your lips. “I’d never leave you alone like this.”
You pulled away a bit to properly look at his face, “Really?”
This was the man your heart belonged to. You don’t know how you didn’t explode when he gave you the most charming smile that ever graced his lips.
“Really.”
Everything you were worried about solved itself into place, like sentient puzzle pieces figuring themselves out with confidence.
“You’re too good for me.”
Unabashedly, you continued to make out with your boyfriend on your couch, a newfound appreciation driving you mad with love.
“I’m only for you, babe. Don’t need anyone or anything else but you.”
———
Now that the two of you were freshened up and settled down with mugs of hot cocoa in your hands, you and Sonny were much more at ease.
There was nothing better to Sonny than to be cuddled up with his girlfriend with her head laying on his chest. You practically clung to the arm draped over your shoulder, making a nest out of his bicep for your face — which reminded him of a koala bear, but he kept that thought to himself. He was so comfortable, so happy that this was his life. His nose pressed against your hair, the scent of your shampoo reminding him of a holiday well-spent together in Mexico. Deja Vu hit him the minute he kissed your head, laughing through his nose when he remembered the events that happened just a few hours prior.
“Hey,” he nudged you with the arm you were glued to. You pulled your focus from the movie you were watching — a comedy, nothing that would make the ‘bloody demon hormones possess me’ as you put it — and raised your eyebrows curiously in response. “I’m just wonderin’…”
“Hmm?”
“Why did you cry when I gave you the flowers?”
You groaned, still somewhat embarrassed at the flurry of emotions you attacked the innocent man with. But you humoured the question anyway, “I opened the door and you were standing there, so handsome and so sickeningly charming, holding up flowers that you brought for me. You should be worried if I didn’t cry.”
“Wow,” he whistled. “I’m really that handsome, huh?”
You playfully hit him in the chest with your fist as you resumed your initial position, “Shut up.” A smirk managed to rip it’s way through your lips. “But mostly, I was crying because I was so sad that the flowers were going to die. I don’t know, just weird how my brain works on my period.”
It was a nonchalant mention, nothing big to you, but it stuck to his mind. Flowers dying made you upset. How precious was that? He catalogued the thought, filing it away for the future. The inkling of humour tempted him, though.
“So, not so much on the handsome part?”
You snorted, “Eh, I’ll give it a 60/40.”
“It should be in the news or something. ‘Guy So Handsome, Makes A Grown Woman Cry’” he gestured in the air as if there was a banner.
“How about, ‘Girl So Hormonal, Makes A Grown Man Cry With Her’?”
“Psh, I didn’t cry.”
“You so were.”
“Was not.”
You laughed, thinking he’d given it up when the sound of the movie began to fade into your hearing again.
“You should come over the precinct, tell the guys how I can make the ladies cry just by showing up at their door.”
He wore that goofy, toothy grin you were so accustomed to whenever he was joking around.
You rolled your eyes. Then decided to mess with him. “Excuse me? Ladies? Plural?”
The grin immediately wiped off of his face. “No- I meant lady, as in singular.”
“Mhmm.”
“I mean— no, that’s not what—“
“Sure, Son.” The monotonous voice you used made him sweat.
“You know you’re the only gal for me! I was just joking…hey, baby, come on, look at me…”
———
Months passed by and relationship milestones came and went. You finally met his family on month eight, and him yours. Month ten, you got a promotion at work and thankfully — not by your doing — Todd left the company. Sonny and the rest of the SVU team made a breakthrough on a case, you met his coworkers you heard so much about for the first time when he brought you along for their celebratory dinner. He was teased relentlessly for ‘keeping such a wonderful woman from us all this time’. You enjoyed the camaraderie that they shared with each other, and felt like you won a prize when they extended it to you.
Time passed by you so fast that you barely noticed it was almost a full year since you and Sonny made it official.
The day of your anniversary, he made reservations for the two of you at a fancy restaurant — Italian, of course. You reminisced the journey of your relationship together over some fine dining and a delightful bottle of wine. The ambiance, mixed with the light-headed feeling from one too many glasses of wine, only made the love you had for Sonny so much more emphasised. It was a dream, to be loved by such an amazing man, to have found your soulmate. If you weren’t at such busy points of your career, you’d literally have his babies right then and there. A couple of mini Sonny’s would do the world good, you pondered. Unbeknownst to you, the subject of your thoughts was thinking the exact same thing, only he was dreaming up a babble of mini You’s instead.
Sonny and you walked home together — he had basically moved into your apartment by now, he was finding it harder and harder to be separated from you at night. Having you next to him made him sleep better, and just generally being around you made him feel better — the two of you never made his move-in an official thing, but there was no need to. It was almost like you shared a telepathic connection. Although, Sonny being Sonny, will make the moving in an official thing whether you needed to or not. Maybe into an actual house, with a backyard and a huge kitchen and a family to raise in to make it a home. One day. Maybe even tomorrow. He’d do anything, anytime with you.
“Got you something, by the way.” He grinned, keys jangling on the doorknob as he swung it open for you.
“Sonny, you didn’t have to.” You blushed. One year together and he still had that effect on you.
“Well, I wanted to.”
While you were taking off your shoes, he used it as a distraction to take it out of the hiding spot he so carefully planned — his height being an advantage to said plan — and waddled over in his socks to where you were sitting on the couch, handing it to you once he was sat as well.
It was a daintily patterned gift bag, not too big and not too small either, with a card attached to it on the front. You carefully removed it to read his words in neat handwriting.
Happy 1 year anniversary, doll. I love you so much. You make me the luckiest man alive. My love for you will never die.
You wanted to cry, so touched by his short but undeniably sweet words. He saw how your bottom lip jutted out, the way it usually did when emotions got the best of you, and smiled to himself with a bit of pride in getting his words right.
Slowly, you pried the top of the bag open, only discovering a plastic dome. “Careful.” Your boyfriend noted.
You wondered what it was, going over all the possibilities in your head as you took it out of the bag; lava lamp, necklace, tiny bottle, lantern…only to gasp when you saw what it really was inside.
A small sphere-shaped cactus with a crown of pink flowers, placed inside a white ceramic pot with the words, ‘My love for you will never die’ engraved in cursive writing around it.
Ahhhh, here come the waterworks.
“Sonny,” your eyebrows scrunched up, lips fully pouting now. “This is the sweetest fucking gift ever.”
Your use of words didn’t go unnoticed by the smiling man, earning you a chuckle out of him. “I remember the time you cried when I brought you flowers, and you told me it was because you were sad ‘bout them dying…it’s cheesy, I know. Corny, a bit. But I thought you’d like it.”
The rising inflection of his voice gave away his nerves, but you were quick to make your appreciation known. “I do, I do! It’s just the most beautiful and thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me. Thank you, baby. I’m- Aw…“
You choked up and he took that as his cue to pull you into his arms, careful to set the prickly plant down so you wouldn’t accidentally get hurt.
“It’s true though, my love will never die. You’re stuck with me for as long as you want me.”
“You know I’m shit at keeping plants alive, Son!” You couldn’t help the wavering in your voice, “Oh, but this is just so, so sweet. You’re just too cute for your own good.”
“Well, I was cute enough for you to accept the babbling guy who asked you out a year ago.” The giggling that followed made his blue eyes seem brighter.
“Yeah, I couldn’t say no to that face.”
You took the comfortable silence that ensued as a segue to your own offering to him, “Speaking of this cactus being put at the risk of dying, I’m gonna have to appoint someone to remind me it needs water every now and then.”
“I’m assuming that would be me?”
“Yup.” You shifted around to look through your purse. “So, I was thinking…”
Sonny narrowed his eyes at you, “Thinking…?”
You held out your palm and reached out for his, dropping a familiar weight into his hands. As soon as you pulled your hands away, the object revealed itself to be a single silver key with a brown leather strap keychain attached to the ring, ‘Det. Carisi’ engraved on one side and ‘Sonny’ on the other.
He looked up at you, meeting eager eyes that matched his own. You were practically bouncing with giddiness, excited to reach yet another milestone.
“Move in with me? Officially?”
God, you were so perfect.
“Abso-fucking-lutely.”
350 notes · View notes
azrielsdove · 4 months
Text
Love and Loss: Ch.10
Warnings: Angst, Smut
Ch.9 Here | Final Ch Here
***
What? Your body stilled under Azriel’s hold, mind racing. You felt anger, joy, sadness, and frustration all at once. Did Rhysand know? Did Azriel know all this time? Why did the bond never snap before? None of it made any sense and was all too much, pressing hard on your chest until you thought you’d break under the weight of it.
You pushed Azriel off of you, breathing heavy. “Have you known?” You demanded, hands shaking at your side. He shook his head ever so slightly, eyes still dark with lust. You understood that his instincts were telling him to go to you, be with you, but you needed answers before anything else happened.
“I didn’t. I always felt drawn to you, yes, but I did not think it was a mating bond. Especially not once you were married.” His hands clenched into tight fists. “He told me during our fight.” You run your hands over your face, taking a deep breath.
“This isn’t the first time i’ve made you food, Az. Why did nothing ever happen before?” You were going to be sick. Was this another thing Rhysand had ripped away from you? Your mate had been in front of you all this time, just out of your grasp.
Azriel shrugged, moving to stand behind the table. As if putting distance between the two of you would help his instincts. “It hadn’t snapped for either of us then.” His fingers dug into the wood in front of him as he forced his gaze away from you.
You could feel it now, that subtle pull towards Azriel. Perhaps it had always been there, maybe you’ve always known. You wiped your hands on your dress, turning around to the counter behind you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to laugh out loud at the absurdness of it all. Five centuries wasted with a male who had done nothing but play you, when your cauldron-fated mate was right there. He was always there. He has always been there.
You gave a frustrated shout and slammed your hands on the countertop. “Get him out of here,” you ground out to Cassian, teeth clenched. You didn’t look back at Azriel’s shout, you ignored the sounds of fighting as Cassian forced him away from you. You knew it wasn’t right to take your emotions out on him, but you couldn’t jump straight into the mating bond after all of this. After how betrayed you had been by the male who owned your heart before him. You sunk down to the floor of the kitchen and buried your face in your hands. Rhysand had been the supposed love of your life, the star of your heart. While you couldn’t deny the feelings you felt growing for Azriel, were you truly ready to trust someone like that again? You were completely devoted to your husband for so long, never even thinking he would hurt you the way he had. Would Azriel be the same? Would he grow tired of you? After the novelty of finally getting the girl wore off, would he realize this wasn’t truly what he wanted?
You could argue the mating bond answered those questions for you, but you knew as well as any that a mating bond didn’t mean everlasting love. Azriel may be happy now, but were centuries of waiting for you worth it? How is it fair that Rhysand gets to be blessed and happy, when he has quite possibly destroyed any chance at your own happiness? A small cough broke you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see a disheveled Cassian standing in the entryway.
“I gave him a sleeping draught,” he said, wincing at the admission. “I wasn’t sure what else to do. Tearing a freshly mated male away from his mate is no small feat.” You nodded, feeling guilty for putting Cassian in this position.
“I’m sorry, Cass. I just don’t know what to do.” You felt hopeless, lost in a wide sea of emotion. He came over to you, sitting next to you on the floor.
“What’s stopping you?” The question was simple, but oh so complicated.
“What if he realizes I wasn’t worth waiting for all this time? What if he leaves me like Rhys?” You felt small, broken. Cassian pulled you into his arms, tucking you tight against him.
“Don’t speak like that. What Rhysand has done is truly evil.” He sighs deeply. “I’ve spent my life with them, and Azriel is a true honest male. I am confident he would rather die than ever hurt you.” That made you feel worse. You were punishing Azriel for how Rhysand had treated you.
“Why does he get to live happily after what he’s done?” It wasn’t really a question, and you certainly weren’t expecting Cassian to answer.
“I’ve been looking into it, going over any of the laws I can think of.” You sat straight up and looked at him, eyes wide. You often forget that he was the General of the Night Court, that his easy-going humorous attitude hid a deeply intelligent male. “What Rhysand has done unfortunately isn’t illegal in any way, though I wish it were. The other courts already see him as the most despicable male, so they wouldn’t be surprised by how he’s acted.” You sunk a little, knowing what he said was correct. “Also, if there were laws against High Lords being unfaithful or terrible to their wives half the courts would be without one.” He shook his head in disgust. You agreed, knowing all too well how some of the other High Lords chose to act.
“What am I to do, Cass? The Night Court is my home, my life. Azriel’s career is here. How am I supposed to remain here and respect him as my High Lord?” You looked down at your hands, overwhelmed. You loved your home here, but was it enough to overshadow the pain Rhysand had left? Cassian squeezed you tighter.
“Maybe we begin to look at different courts.” You looked up at him in shock, a small smile on his face.
“We?” Certainly he couldn’t mean-
“Yea. All of us. You, me, and Az. I won’t stay here without him.” You pulled away from him, staring at him as if he just said he created the ground you walk on.
“Y-you’re the general of the Night Court, you can’t leave! Azriel is his spymaster, will it not be some form of treason if you desert?” This was all too much. Cassian gave you an encouraging smile and nudged your shoulder with his.
“You’re allowed to leave the court you were born into. Besides, I don’t think I can trust Rhysand any longer. He isn’t the brother I once knew. He probably never was.” You felt tears in your eyes for the millionth time as you flung your arms around your friend.
“Oh Cass, how I love you.” He hugged you back, laughing lightly before pulling away.
“You better go find Azriel. I don’t think that sleeping draught will last long, and i’m certain he will be searching for you as soon as he can stand.” He winked at you as you rolled your eyes. The two of you stood and you gave him one last quick hug.
“Thank you, Cass. For everything.”
***
You found Azriel still asleep in his bed, although he looked far from peaceful. His eyes were fluttering and he was twitching in his sleep, likely trying to get out of the spell and to you. You sat next to him on the bed and ran your hand through his hair. His body instantly settled, your touch all he needed. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face at that.
“My lovely Shadowsinger,” you cooed, continuing the stroking of his hair. Your heart sung for him, a possessive need to keep him as yours. You studied his face carefully as he slept, taking in his strong features. There was a vulnerability about him right now, a rawness that you didn’t see very often. He stirred and his eyes cracked open, the too-alert stare a bit jarring. He sat up and moved as if to pull you close before deciding against it, clasping his hands tight in his lap.
“He drugged me.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his incredulous tone. Azriel shot you a glare that quickly turned into a smile as he took you in. “You’re here. Are you…okay?”
You tugged one of his hands out of his lap, holding it tight. “I am more than okay. How are you feeling?” His eyes dragged up and down your body, the mating lust visible in them.
“Uh, I’m…good.” He cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from you. “Is this what you want?” Your heart broke at the uncertainty of his voice. You squeezed his hand to get him to look back at you.
“You are everything I want.” You leaned forward and kissed him, stopping him from saying anything further. There would be time for talking later.
He groaned into your mouth and his hands moved to wrap around you, pulling you into his lap. You adjusted your legs to sit on either side of his hips, rocking gently down onto him. His nails dug into your waist at the action, a warning to not tease him. You felt like you could come undone just like this, everywhere your body touched Azriel’s was on fire. The effect he had on you was like nothing you had ever experienced. His hands ran down to your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles on the bare skin there. You ground down on him again, needing to feel him as much as you could. He growled, a hand slapping one of your thighs. You gasped at the stinging pleasure, especially as he repositioned his hand over the mark and squeezed.
He pulled away from your lips, pressing harsh kisses down your neck. “Please don’t rush me when I have waited so long to have you.” Your head tipped back at his words, allowing him more access to you. One of his hands moved to fan across your back, pressing your body tight against his. You were going to burn alive under his touch.
The hand on your thigh pushed up under your nightgown, fingers tracing the edges of your underwear. They moved like he was trying to memorize your body, like you were an art piece he’d never see again. His lips came back up to yours, a burning kiss that said all the words he had kept secret all this time. He poured the love he felt for you straight into your soul, healing you from the inside out. Azriel’s love wrapped around you like a warm blanket, strong and secure. You wrapped your arms tight around his neck and pulled him even closer, wanting him to feel the same way you did.
His fingers carefully slid beneath your underwear, sliding through the wetness that had gathered there. He groaned appreciatively as he felt you, making sure to touch every inch of you available to him. “Az, don’t tease,” you murmured out against his lips, desperate for him. You felt him smile against you as two fingers pushed slowly inside, curling once he was at his deepest. One of your hands slid hold his face as you gasped out in pleasure, the feeling of Azriel touching you overwhelming. His thumb moved to circle your clit, applying delicious pressure in time with the pumping of his fingers. You were coming undone much too quickly, his name slipping past your lips in helpless moans.
“That’s my good girl.” His words were punctuated with a particularly deep thrust of his fingers, curling perfectly where you needed him too. You began riding his hand, following the pleasure burning in your stomach. He matched your pace exactly, already perfectly in tune with what you needed. You felt that tight burning in your stomach, knowing you were on the edge. “That’s it,” Azriel whispered, fingers moving beautifully. “Cum for me.”
You threw your head back as the pleasure rushed over you, mouth open in a silent scream. He helped you through it, stilling his movements once you looked back at him. You wasted no time in reattaching your lips, the desire for him even stronger than it was. He flipped the two of you so you laid flat under him, hovering over your body. He began pressing a trail of kisses down your neck and chest, hands ripping the top of your nightgown apart. The tattered fabric against your skin felt sinful, made you feel like the epitome of desirable. Azriel’s lips down your body only enhanced the feeling, that you were the most divine being.
He reached the silk covering you, tearing it off of you much like your gown. You sucked in a breath at the rush of cold air against you, looking down to watch him study you. “Gorgeous,” he breathed, nose hitting your clit as he moved down. You jumped, still sensitive from the orgasm he had just drawn from you. His hands came to rest on your thighs, holding you open for him. His eyes darted up to catch yours as tongue began to explore you. You forced your gaze to remain on him, one hand coming to tangle in his hair. The way Azriel’s tongue moved against you, inside you, had your mind go blank. All you knew was him.
You arched off the bed and threw your head back as he sucked at your clit, fingers dropping back down to resume their movement inside of you. Your other hand moved down to grip onto his head as well, trying desperately to ground yourself. Azriel touched you in a way no one had before, as if he worshipped every second he got to spend between your legs. To him it was a privilege to have this time with you, not an expectation.
Your body began to shake at the sensations he was pulling from you, a second orgasm coming in quick. You squeezed your thighs tight against his head, knowing it would all be over far too soon. You screamed as you came, entire universes exploding behind your eyes. Azriel didn’t let up as your orgasm died down, keeping the same rhythm he had built. You whimpered at the overstimulation, legs shaking around his head. He hummed against you, encouraging you to keep going. Pathetic cries fell from your lips as he worked your body, refusing to give up a second of your pleasure.
Tears slipped from your eyes as you came again, his name the only thing you knew. “Azriel, Azriel, Azriel!” You chanted as wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure washed over you. He helped you through it, stopping once he was sure you were satisfied. He moved back up to your face, brushing the tears away and pressing a light kiss to your lips.
“Can you take one more?” He asked, his only goal that you feel as good as possible. You nodded, mind still too frazzled for words. He smirked at your dumbed down state, pleased with himself. He leant down and kissed you again, tongue twirling with yours. You tasted yourself on him, desire burning in you once more. Your hands fell to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up enthusiastically. He pulled away to help take it off, discarding his pants and underwear as well. Your jaw dropped at the size of him, standing tall against his stomach. You reached a hand out to touch, Azriel stopping you. “I won’t last. I want to finish inside you.” Gods. He was going to be your final undoing.
He pulled the ripped gown off your body, leaving you both bare to each other. The two of you took a breath, both memorizing the look of the other. He was a god amongst fae, a deadly Illyrian soldier, the Shadowsinger. Rhysand may be more powerful, but the raw strength of Azriel was unlike anyone else. And he was yours.
You looped your arms back around his neck and kissed him again, love radiating from you. His hands came to rest on your waist as he pushed you back down, lips never leaving yours. You felt him run his tip down you, collecting the wetness there. He gently pushed at your entrance and your legs fall open to welcome him. “Are you ready?” He asked, pulling his lips off yours to look at you.
“Yes. Please, Az.” He pressed his forehead to yours and pushed in, twin gasps coming from both of you. Oh, he was delicious. He sunk deep into you, knocking the breath out of you with the sheer size of him. He paused when he was all the way in, feeling you adjust around him. You pushed your hips up against his, desperate for him to move. He hissed between his teeth before pulling almost all the way out and then thrusting back in. You arched against him, nails digging into his back. He hit every spot inside of you, fitting like he was made for you. Perhaps because he was.
You felt him holding back from unleashing himself on you, and you refused to have that. You ran one hand along his wing, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Fuck me proper, Azriel.” He cursed at your words, head bowing down to rest on your shoulder. He wasted no time in fucking into you, hands digging hard into your hips. You screamed his name as he thrusted in and out, head falling back against the pillow. He bit harshly into your shoulder, tongue soothing the marks he left. You cried out, already on the edge for him again. He pounded into you over and over, the force of his hips against yours making you certain you would bruise tomorrow.
His rhythm began to go sloppy and he tensed up, close to his finish as well. His fingers came to circle your clit again, forcing you to fall off with him. He shouted for you as he came, your matching cry of his name as you followed. You squeezed tight around him, pulling every drop of his cum from his body. You could stay lost in this pleasure with Azriel for the rest of your life and be completely happy.
You breathed hard against each other, bodies coming down from your joint high. He slowly pulls out, running a hand down your face. His eyes are full of adoration, admiring your flushed out gaze. You couldn’t resist leaning up and kissing him again, gentle and sweet this time. Locked in his arms, all the pain from Rhysand felt like a long ago story. You knew then that you could live happily anywhere, as long as Azriel was by your side.
***
I hope this was everything you guys wanted!!! The next chapter will be the last 🫣. Thank you all so much for your support and love on this story and I hope you like the ending I have planned <3
*crossed out blogs i couldn’t tag
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hier--soir · 10 months
Text
tender is the night [for a broken heart]
joel miller x f!reader
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pairing: ex-boyfriend!joel miller x f!reader summary: a birthday dinner gets interrupted by a drunk ex, who still can't say the words you need to hear. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] jackson era, ex-boyfriend!joel, crying on your birthday, angst, insecurity, joel can't express how he feels, nothing is resolved at the end, a drunk teary dilf. word count: 2.6k masterlist a/n: ouch. was in the mood for angst and hopelessness apparently? it hurt to write so it very well may hurt to read. enjoy!
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The table was a disastrous mosaic of dirty crockery and full glasses of wine. Countless empty serving bowls were strewn to the far edges of the wood. Plates crusted with sauces and relishes were framed by purple rings where wine had stained the table. A Victoria sponge with the words ‘another year!’ written across it in a cinnamon dusting—because “we couldn’t figure out how to make icing”. Amidst it all, candles rested on simple saucers, wax dripping down their sides as small orange flames sent plumes of smoke towards the ceiling.  
Those glowing flares sent shadows flickering across the table. The light reflected shards of yellow and white on the faces of your friends, highlighting drunken smiles and heavy lids over shiny eyes. Hushed conversation on one end of the table mirrored by raucous laughter and jeering on the other; the people closest to you, come to spend an evening together in celebration.
You were happy. A tingling sensation resided within you, vibrating in the space between the tips of your toes and the top of your skull. And yet, you couldn’t shake the ever-present reminder of something being missing. Or, someone, rather. A large, person-shaped hole existed in the room – in the space beside you. A cold patch of air that should’ve been warmed by an additional body. An empty chair at the the table, with no one to fill it.
The sharp clinking of a fork against glass caught your attention. Sydney was perched at the head of the table, messy haired and wide eyed. Unbeknownst to you, she’d taken the time to retrieve a fresh bottle of wine from the kitchen, and now stood over the group, crooked teeth on show as she beamed in your direction.
“Sooo,” she teased, dragging the word out and wiggling her eyebrows jauntily. “We’re here to celebrate a very special person.”
A chorus of cheers and whoops rung out along the table, and that warm feeling of happy, I am happy simmered in your chest again. A—dangerously full—glass of wine was held in your hand, and you sipped the crimson liquid leisurely, savouring the taste as it swum down your throat and into your full belly.
“Our dear, dear friend,” she said your name softly. “You mean so much to us all. No words could describe how grateful I am to have found you in this disaster of a world, and how pleased I am that our paths crossed after so many years of solitude.”
Jesse leant in from the seat beside yours, circling a lanky arm around your shoulders. You dipped your head in his direction to offer up a shy smile.
“You deserve nothing but the best,” Sydney continued, her eyes softening. “Here’s to another wonderful year with you, my friend. Happy birthday.”
You raised your glass into the air, laughing as your friends lifted their own to meet it. Glasses clashed in a boisterous toast, wine sloshing over rims, creating a new pattern of imperfect blots on the table.  
“Alright, alright,” you chuckled, motioning for them all to settle down. “This means so much to me, really.”
You paused, soaking in the sight of their faces. Soft lipped smiles and bright eyes, gazing at you with nothing but love. “Thank you for coming. Thank you for the cake, for the wine. It means the worl—"
A sharp knock at the door cut you off.
All heads ticked in the direction of your entryway. Eyebrows drew together, friends glanced around, assessing who was missing from the table. A short, wary giggle loosed from your lips as you placed your wine glass down.
“I’ll, uhh—” you rose from the table. “I’ll go see who that might be.”
Before you’d taken a single step, you noted your pulse quickening.
He wouldn’t, you thought lamely, walking slowly towards the door. Surely, he wouldn’t.
Not today, of all days.
Not after months.
But you were lightheaded from the wine, the critical thinking part of your brain thoroughly fogged. And so you gripped the handle and tugged the door open without properly preparing yourself for if it was him, and then—
He would.
Today, of all days.
After months.
He would, and he did.
You balked at the sight of him. The cool evening air rushed in through the open doorway, and you could see dried yellow leaves smattered across the front porch – victims to the Fall weather. You noticed his boots first, unable to drag your gaze from the ground. Bulky, black boots that stood on the faded wood of your porch decking, crushing those flaxen leaves beneath them.
“Darlin’.” That deep, ache-in-your-stomach-inducing, nauseatingly familiar Texan drawl.
You recoiled at the sound of it, instinctively taking a step back into the house and away from the door, away from him.
He mirrored your movement, feet dragging his body a tedious step forward, until he rested atop the welcome mat. The thick, sour smell of liquor wafted through the air, and the tip of your nose scrunched at the overbearing scent. You finally allowed your eyes to drift up his body; past the wrinkled blue jeans, the dark green flannel, to rest on his face.
His beard was unkempt, curly hair unruly and a little longer than you’d seen him have it in all the years you’d known him. Dark irises bordered by bloodshot whites rested in the middle of his face, framed by heavy blue under-eye bags that hinted at a blatant lack of sleep.
As you took in his appearance, Joel spoke again. “Happy birthday.”
His words had a slow, lilting slur to them, and as he stood there a soft, dopey smile stretched across his face. The crow’s feet by his eyes made your stomach twist into knots, and had you fielding an onslaught of memories of how you used to lay tender kisses against the wrinkled skin, whispering how much you loved those marks.
You were aware of how chatter at the table had died down, silence descending upon the house as your guests comprehended who was at the door.
“Joel,” you cleared your throat in an attempt to mask your tone of stilted surprise. “I—”
“How are you?” he took another step forward, scraping his shoes on the mat as if he were about to step inside.
Instinctively, you shot a cautious glance at your friends. Jesse had risen from his seat and was watching the interaction warily. He’d had his fair share of troublesome run ins with Joel lately and was on guard in an instant.
You ignored his question. “What are you doing here?”
“I was…” he paused thoughtfully, tongue darting out to wet his cracked, pink lips. “Could I come inside for a minute, sweetheart?”
The sound of glass breaking snatched the response from your mouth, and Joel’s brow pitched down in concern. The pair of you looked in towards the table, where a red-faced Sydney was clambering to collect broken shards of a glass that had been knocked to the floor.  
“Oh,” Joel’s voice came quieter this time, sounding somewhat dejected. “You have guests, I-I’m sorry to, uh, to intrude.”
“We were just having dinner,” you said quickly, heat soaring through your skin as you noticed how his face had fallen, drunken smile nowhere to be found.
It hurt how much you wanted to reassure him. How you wanted to reach out and place a hand on his shoulder, to tell him that you would never celebrate your birthday without him.
Except you couldn't say that. Didn’t reach out to touch him, or to reassure. Instead, you let your words hang in the air for him to interpret as he wished.
“Right,” he nodded quickly, eyes glazing over a little.
The air felt thick with tension, a heavy silence permeating between the two of you and the guests around the table. Everyone’s eyes were on you, trying to gage your reaction. Your chest felt tight, every breath painful as air clawed its way in and out of your lungs.
“Hey,” rough fingers grazed your cheek, and your breathing hitched. “Why're you cryin', sweetheart?"
You hadn’t noticed the tear falling until he swiped his thumb below your eye, brushing away the wetness. The feeling of his skin on yours after so long caused a thick set of tears to fill your eyes. You swallowed them down quickly, sucking your lips into your mouth as you tried to keep it together.
Through blurry eyes you could see the concern on Joel’s face. He still looked so handsome. Even when it was clear he hadn’t been taking care of himself, even when he was drunker than all hell – he was so beautiful that it hurt.
“Why today?” you cursed internally at how feeble you sounded.
His hand dropped away, lips forming your name in a soft exhale.
“Don’t,” your voice hardened. “Just—tell me why you’re here, why today.”
“Let’s not fight,” he said faintly. The breeze shifted towards you, carrying the heady scent of whiskey that coated his breath. “Not on your birthday.”
“We aren’t fighting.” Your fingers sought out the doorhandle again, using it’s sturdy weight to ground yourself.
He was practically swaying on his feet, broad torso tilting slowly from side to side. “Feels like we are,” he confessed, thick eyebrows drawn across his forehead. “Y’hardly look at me anymore when I pass you in town.”
The dull ache in your chest intensified as you noticed tears glistening on his waterline all of a sudden, poised to fall at any moment.
“Joel, I don’t…” you sighed softly, eyes glancing out to the empty street as you tried to steady your breathing. “There’s nothing to fight over anymore – it’s done. It’s been months… I have nothing else to say about it; about any of it.”
He was silent for a long moment, cracked lips pursed as he digested your words.
“I’ve missed that,” he finally murmured.
“What?”
He hiccupped softly. “You sayin’ my name. S’my favourite thing in the world.”
“Jesus,” you muttered, although your heart stuttered at the words. “Can I get someone for you? Ellie?”
“No, don’t—” another hiccup “please don’t tell her.”  
“You’re drunk,” you admonished, quiet enough that your friends wouldn’t be able to hear.
His fingers gripped the lapels of his jacket, drawing it tighter around himself. He seemed shy beneath your gaze – almost unsure of himself, now that he was actually stood at your door.
“I miss you,” his low voice cracked and trembled. “Thought about you all day, couldn’t stop myself from comin’ over.”
You shivered, wrapping your arms around your torso to protect from the cool wind.
“And?” you rasped wetly. “You still can’t say it, though, can you?”
He stared at you, glassy eyed. His mouth opened, and the words, “I need you” tumbled out.  
“God, you’re such an asshole,” you scowled, eyes widening in desperation. “Why the fuck did you come here?”
“Where else would I go?” he implored. “Just wanna be wherever you are.”
You fell silent. Your heart thrashed inside your ribcage, striking rhythmically against your sternum in sharp jabs. It felt as though the crack down the middle of your heart, the one that you’d been working tirelessly to mend, was torn back open, a fresh wound once more.
“You know how I feel about you, darlin’,” he tried, taking another step forward.
“No,” you hissed, feeling almost hysterical as you held a hand out to stop him. “No, I don’t. For years I tried to figure it out, Joel, years, and I’m still at a fucking loss.”
“You’re the one who wanted time apart,” he bit, top lip curling in frustration.
“I never wanted whatever,” his hands gestured wildly between the pair of you. “this is. Never wanted to be away from you.”
You stared listlessly at him. “Yes,” you nodded. “I wanted time apart, because you needed to figure out what you wanted.”
“I know what I want,” his eyes blazed. One of his hands pushed forward and hovered over yours for a moment, dark eyes gaging your reaction before he allowed the digits to rest over yours. He squeezed your hand once, softly, and then held it. “You know it’s not easy for me to… to say these things.”
“It’s not easy,” you choked out. “To share two years with someone and then—fuck—to hold my heart out on a platter, to tell you that I loved you, over and over again, and never once hear it in return." Your chest heaved with jilted breaths, eyes widening as you spoke. "And it was okay, at first; I understood. I know what you’ve been through, but… it scares me, Joel, not knowing. And I trust that actions can speak louder than words, and that you have shown you care for me but… but maybe I’m weak – because I need to hear it. I need to know.”
A tear finally spilled, cutting a fierce line down his cheek, and disappearing into his beard.
It felt like you were baring your insides to him for the millionth time. Spilling your guts onto the ground before him and foolishly hoping that he would help to tuck them back inside where they belonged. Hot, red, pulsating matter that ached for him to take it in his hands, to caress it carefully, and whisper that yes, after all this time, he loved it.
You’d almost forgotten that a room full of people could hear your every word, and yet you found yourself uncaring.
Let them hear it, you thought. Let them see your love, your earnest, your honesty, and let them ache with you as it was not returned.
“Baby,” Joel squeezed your hand again, voice low like a warning. “I do, okay? I do.”
Please don’t do this, his eyes were screaming.  
“I don’t want to have to beg you to love me, Joel.”
“Let me come inside,” he pleaded softly, through steadily falling tears. “Let me stay with you. I’ll show you, okay? I just need some more time, sweetheart, please.”
You smiled sadly and raised your clasped hands to your mouth, pressed a delicate kiss to his palm. A glistening streak painted his skin where it had touched your tear-stained face.
And then you let his hand go. Watched it drop down to his side, palm still held up to you. As if that were its naturally resting state whenever you weren’t holding it.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said, voice thick.
His fingertips grazed your shirt as he reached out again, but you had already taken a step backwards, out of reach.
“Pleas—”
“I love you,” you murmured brokenly. He finally fell silent, wet eyes widening at the words; at the simplicity with which you’d spoken them. “Please get some sleep.”  
Joel blinked, wiped tears away with a rough hand. Nodded twice, torso swaying precariously as he spun on his feet to leave. You watched his back retreat, a fresh set of tears spilling onto your cheeks.
He paused then, only once, at your letterbox. Fingertips trailed over the lettering that spelt your name, and he spared a single glance over his shoulder.
“I’ll be back,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear over the soft Fall wind.
And as he departed, boots leaving your porch to stamp heavily across the grass and onto the road, that feeling of loss returned.
So short lived was its departure, and his return. Yet as Joel ventured into the darkness, avoiding the shining light of streetlamps, his absence curled around your being once more, greedily slinking into the space where he had stood.
You met it fondly, embraced the cool feeling as it floated over your skin, stroked your hands and face and held you in its grasp. Something to sit with – something to remind you, as you waited.
And you knew you would. Wait for him, that is.
As long as it took, you would wait, against your own better judgement.
For you loved him. Even when he couldn’t say it back, you loved him.
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