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poppy-metal · 19 days

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what if i said the words step dad patrick……….. fucking ur mum for a place to stay when he finds your cute little college ass and oh look! you’re into tennis! he can show you some stuff if you like, he used to play art donaldson and win………..

why would you say this to me. what have u done what have you wrought. wow this got away from me and i ended up giving us a whole backstory here my bad fr.

i imagine you're visiting home from college - a prestigious one - not excited, in the least. probably a horrible relationship with your mother, father nonexistent, out of the picture. probably got into tennis as just a hobby, but it turned into a way to channel all your anger and resentment built up towards your mother - how she never pays attention to you, how money and jewelry and the next man who'll blow smoke up her ass to leech off her, is more important to her than you are. every slam of your racket against the ball is you smashing a vase in your picture perfect mansion.

so, no, you're not happy to be coming back for the summer but all your friends are going back home and you dont want to be the one girl on campus who wont go back home - you dont want to be that girl. you're perfect over there, you're good. no one knows you hate your mother and mourn a father you dont even know the name of. no one knows you feel so alone it empties your chest out sometimes, leaves you with a pit that feels like its rotting you inside out. you're good at tennis, and you're cool and you're friendly and you have men falling all over you. they never fill that void, but its nice to feel desired. even if their age stifles you. irritates you. immaturity grinds your gears.

so, no, you're not eager to throw all that pretend and comfort away for the summer. lugging your suitcases up the pristine driveway with a scowl already in place. wondering if your mother will even notice you entering the door. probably not. probably she's already out, or making plans to be so.

anyway, you're miffed and moody and not at all prepared for when a man jogs up to you. you startle when a hand, a very tan hand connected to a strong arm - arm that has fine hair, and veins and muscles you can see - intercepts you to take the handle of your suitcase. you look up.

you look up to see the hottest man you've ever seen in your life grinning down at you. dark curls damp with sweat, heat kissed skin, freckles and seagreen eyes. tall and broad, and soaked in sweat. his tank top is practically see through, you can see through. right to his equally strong chest, which is hairy and tan looking - two twin nipples peaking, red and flushed. you throat feels dry. "uh."

"fuck, hey." he lets go of your suitcase to shake your hand. you limply let him. hes smiling at you in a practiced sort of way, almost like hes nervous. odd since hes clearly older than you. but hes trespassing, so maybe thats why. "i wanted to get cleaned up before i met you, but you're early, huh. i was just on the court - here let me."

he takes the handle of your luggage again. he seems to know you already and you squint. a familiar feeling of irritation filling you. hes not so different looking from all the help your mother has hired over the years, pool boys and yardworkers and the like. young men she could ogle. although this man does seem older - he's definitely ogle worthy. more than.

your mouth twists in a sneer. you haven't even gotten into your house and you're already dealing with your mothers shit. you can't be fucked.

"rule number one," you snap, curt, jerking your luggage back from his grip. you try to stand tall, but he still easily towers above you. no matter. you're still above him in station. "dont fucking touch my stuff."

you flick your hair behind your shoulder as you make to walk by him. you hear his sharp inhale of suprise. curious since you're definitely sure your mother has degraded him in many ways by now. he should be used to be talked down to. maybe its his first day.

he comes up in front of you again, walking backwards as you walk forwards, with a kind of ease that irritates you. he holds his hands up, placating, still smirking, which irritates you even more - "got it. got. you know she warned me about you - didn't think you'd try to bite my fucking head off so soon, though."

something in your gut sours. not new, then. your mother has spoken to.... the help, about you? this makes you uncomfortable. prickly and hot like you just found out someone had been talking shit about you behind your back. your hackles rise.

you stop in your tracks. glare at him.

"my mother spoke to you about me?"

his eyebrows - he has annoyingly smooth eyebrows, annoyingly long lashes too - lift, as if to say, 'fucking duh.' he makes a so and so motion with his hand, you glimpse a ring on one of his fingers. "here and there."

your grip around the handle of your suitcase burns its so tight. you think you could melt it with your anger if you concentrated long enough.

"and? what did the bitch say?"

a shocked laugh leaves his lips at your curse. your eyes narrow because you dont find it funny and because the longer you are around him the more you notice about him and the more attractive he noticeably is becomes apparent to you. when he lifts a hand to run it through his hair, the muscles in his arm bunch and flex under his skin - which is still very much gleaming with sweat.

"man, its fucking bad with you. the mommy issues -" he has this little smirk, one that lifts one side of his mouth more than the other. "- she said you were a fucking brat, that i shouldn't bother with trying to make a good first impression. i can kinda see why now."

yeah, you really dont appreciate his attitude. hes hot and all, but he's spoken way out of turn and you're done entertaining it. you want to go inside and flop onto your bed and scream.

you take a step forward and poke him in the chest with a manicured nail - he looks down at it, like, oh hey - sharply. "just because you have a pretty face and a big dick my moms probably sucked more than once, doesn't mean you're fuck all to me. you're still just the help. you can remember that when you're cleaning up my shit." you take your hand away, trying and failing not to smile like a bitch when his lips part in shock at your words, knocking his - fucking broad - shoulder with yours as you walk past him. you pause at the steps to turn just a little. he's looking at you with this unreadable expression, but if you'd have to guess you'd say it closely resembles amusement. "and I'd like a smoothie. have it brought up to me ASAP or I'll make your life here hell, got it?"

you raise an eyebrow.

his mouth finally snaps shut. you hate that he still looks amused. his lips just barely quirking. he works his jaw like he wants to say something but thinks better of it, biting his bottom lip instead as he looks up at you with those green eyes.

"got it."

its sometime later when you wake up. head a fucking rats nest. you've just managed to drag yourself out of bed and to the chair in your vanity, working a pink brush through what you can of your locks when your door flings open.

you dont even look up from the mirror. only one person wouldn't respect the privacy of a closed door and what it means.

"hello, mother." you say cooly, not taking your eyes from the mirror. you try to smooth the brush through your end strands first, coaxing your hair into submission. she's probably here to rub something in your face under the guise of saying hello. a new car she'd bought, a new boyfriend she has, a new vacation home she rented in malibu, ect.

her perfume fills your nostrils with its potent stench as she sashays into the room - your room - and perches her ass on your vanity, rudely jostling several trinkets there. your eye twitches. you brush some more of your hair.

"hello, my darling girl."

her voice is faux sweet. the pet name makes you want to flinch, recoil from its fake meaningfulness from her cold lips. they dont mean anything coming from her. you're not her darling anything. she'd treat a purse more fondly than you. yet, she calls you these sweet things sometimes. you think because it amuses her to play the part of a doting mother. she did always love acting.

you dont say anything more. work the brush. easy and slow wins the race. you remember when you used to be so frustrated with your hair you'd yank the brush through it in a rush, until your scalp bled from the stinging yanks. you'd lose clumps. an act of self harm, your therapist had told you. anxiety of not being perfect. you'd forgotten to put hair serum in your hair to make it easier to deal with before you'd fallen asleep. you shouldn't forget such things. your meeting with that man had rattled you.

"i have some wonderful news."

your mother drums her fingers on your dresser. you imagine her fingers as a witches, long and spindly. no amount of cream and lotion could hide her aging. that made your lips quirk.

"oh? what is it?"

"I've met someone."

not new. you barely restrain the urge to roll your eyes. brush some more hair. you've worked mid way to the top now. almost to the roots.

"have you." you couldn't sound more bored if you tried. really, you couldn't.

"i have." she lets out a swoony breath - "oh, hes wonderful, darling. he's different from the others. treats me like a woman ought to be treated - not that i expect you to know - and its going so well."

you've heard it all before.

"why, he's asked me to marry him!"

you hairbrush stills. you look at your mother for the first time. shes beaming. you feel sick all at once when you look down to her hand - see the ring she's flashing at you, gaudy and dramatic.

"i bought it for myself, of course. he's not the richest man - but he's wonderful! I'd like you to meet him - "

your memory flits back to hours ago, when the man you'd assumed was the help had lifted his arm, hand sifting through his hair and you'd caught a flash of something around his finger - silver in constant with his tan skin - a ring.

your lips part at the same time your brush snags on its first tangle, and footrests, heavy, thumping, a mans, approach your room. your mothers puttering is like static to you now, your eyes flitting from her to the door - and there he is. filling your doorframe. leaning against it with a kind of confidence like he belongs there. like the house is his.

"- eet patrick zweig." your mothers voice comes back to you. you imagine her mouth splitting open from how wide shes smiling - teeth flashing at you like a horse. "my husband. your new stepdad!"

she leans back against him and he wraps and arm around her easily. drops a kiss to her stiff hair, but he doesn't take his eyes off you when he does. everything about him is screaming cat that got the cream. his eyes are twinkling. his cheeks dimpling with a barely hidden grin.

"and." your mother claps. so fucking full of energy, the old bat. "he plays tennis!!! isn't that the most beautiful thing - he used to play with that - oh whats his name, honey -"

"art donaldson." patricks voice is thick and smooth. easy like syrup. he's still looking at you. pinning you with his gaze like you're one of those taxidermied bugs with its wings splayed open on display. "yeah, we used to play together. beat him a couple times."

"him, yes! oh, i told him all about your crush. dont flush, sweetheart, you had his posters in your room! and i thought- wouldn't it just be so fun if patrick and you trained together during the summer! oh, i know I've just been a mess over the years." she puts a hand to her heart - where it would be if she had one, that is - "bringing men in and out of our home. i can only imagine how lost you've felt without a proper male figure in your life. well, no more."

she pats patricks chest. hes opted out of a tank top for a soft cotton top. it hugs his frame too well.

"patrick here is all the father figure you'll need. thing's are really going to change around here, button. we'll be a family."

"a family." you echo, hollow.

"of course." patrick nods. he wants to grin so fucking had you can tell. "oh - and here you go - " he hands you a smoothie he'd been holding, you take it numbly. humiliation burns through you at the memory of how you'd talked to him before. when you'd assumed he was the help. "- that smoothie you wanted."

you stare at him. not sure what to make of any of this. your pride is shot to shit, you're embarrassed, you're angry, you're you're you're -

"and dont worry, babe." he jostles your mother under his arm. he's still. looking at you. you can see what the emotion was now - from before - worse than amusement. fucking glee. he's eating this shit up. "we'll get along just fine. won't we?"

no. no you absolutely fucking wont.

but saying that wont get you anywhere. not just yet. you set your smoothie down and try to smile. it feels wooden. this feels like a chess game suddenly, and hes knocked down one of your knights. and you have to try not to fucking scramble as you jump to defend your queen.

"sure." great move. real intimidating. that'll show him.

"yeah." he smiles at you - kisses the side of your moms head. "why don't you get dinner started, hm?"

you try not to gape as your mother preens and flushes like a housewife. your mother cooking. in the kitchen? preforming labor? doing tasks? willingly? you watch her flit out the room in a daze, wondering if fairies are real and one of them has bodysnatched your mother.

its just patrick and you now. the air in the room thickens with that fact, and you swallow. you've never felt this out of place. never felt so blindsided. not in awhile. you'd made sure of that. taken deliberate steps to adorn armor to prevent yourself from feeling this way. from feeling small. from feeling like the barely adult that you are, freshly nineteen and still so fucking confused and raw and scrambled about everything in your life. not at all like the 30 something in front of you who is a fucking man. a full adult. a full frontal lober. who's been through shit, you can tell, by the callouses on his palms, the hair on his body, his stubble, and the enormity of him in your space. in your little girl room that's still all pink ribbons and plushies on your bed and fairy lights strewn everywhere. he feels like the big bad wolf leering down at your straw fucking house, seconds away from blowing that shit to the ground.

you say nothing.

he crosses his arms and takes his time looking at you. you feel every touch of his eyes on your body, suddenly aware of how little you're wearing. just a sheer nightgown. you feel your nipples pebbling under the fabric that's definitely fucking see through and swallow.

"so."

he lets that hang in the air.

and what can you fucking say? you haven't had the time to recalibrate. you hairs still a mess.

"so.... what?"

you want to stand up - make the playing feild more even except thats a fucking joke because hes taller than you regardless. you feel pinned to the spot anyway, your muscles locked in place in your little chair. like you haven't been given permission to move. its the oddest feeling.

"she's right you know." he tells you, and he eases off the door frame, comes closer so you have to crane your neck up to look up at him. you feel demeaned. and yet, you dont look away. "things are different around here - they have been for awhile now."

you find some semblance of your fucking fire. try to hold your little straw house together. glare up at him.

"you can swing your dick around all you want and make my mom cook and clean for you but you're not the boss of me. you're not my dad."

he just looks at you. folds his lips together. his tongue peeks out to run against the front row of his teeth, wolfish.

the lean in is so jarring you nearly fall out of your chair. you do let out a squeak, jolting as your space is invaded suddenly by him, his arms braced on either side of you, one gripping the neck of your chair. his breath smells like spearmint and the chain around his neck swings back and forth as he gets in your face.

he straightens back up. casually like he didn't just rock your whole world off its fucking axis.

"you think I haven't dealt with you before? i fucking was you - spoiled little rich kid with mommy issues and no fucking daddy. s'that why you think you can stick your fucking nose up at me? dont try to play the game with the man who wrote the fucking rulebook. your display back there at being a big girl was cute, I'll give you that, but it ends there. this is my fucking house now. my fucking rules. and as long as you want to park your polished little ass here in your princess castle you'll listen to me." he does grin then, "I'm your daddy now."

"we cool?"

what can you do?

"we're cool."

he just blew your fucking straw house down.

#ask #frens <3 #and. the match begins #WHATS READERS NEXT MOVE I WONDER I WONDER #patrick zweig x reader #no smut bc i ended up getting lost in the sauce w backstory and lore and tension #challengers x reader #challengers #patrick zweig

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cyb3rspyd3r · 10 months

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E! 42 MILES HEADCANONS ☆.

summary: e!42 miles relationship headcanons , whats its like being in a relationship with him.. , slightly suggestive !

! implied black fem reader

a/n: these are from my dr , so they're probably not accurate to how he actually is but you can leave if you dont like it .. anyways enjoy !.

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hates seeing you all happy happy with boys other than the ones he trusts , he WILL come kiss you , hug you , ect

nigga is hella protective of you , watch someone get flamed for speaking bad about you 💀

his mom teased him for weeks about how he liked getting his hair done by you more than he liked getting it done by her

"mm , someone's in love huh? you normally only let me do your hair mijo." "mami she's my girlfriend chill"

he lovess seeing you in his clothes like he ill take pictures of you/with you with it on and giggle at it for hours .. days .. weeks ..

he know how to do braids , including box braids .. where my black readers at? he DEFINITELY sometimes does ur hair for u

"babyy , you got $180 for my hair?" "goddamn $180? go sit down ma i'll go buy the hair rq we not doin ts"

he is REAL serious about your attitude , this man Will grab you by your neck and tell you what place you're in ..

he only accepts your attitude when you're on your period , but he'll make sure you tone in down by sayin "ight mami chill .. i get it u on ya cycle and shit but chill"

KISSESS KISSESS AND MORE KISSESS .. this nigga LIVES for kisses. always kissin you in public or not and does NOT care

loves neck kisses , he started doing them to u when you're busy and he wants attention so when he saw you doing it to him it made him giggle

yall are the GOOFIEST AND FUNNIEST couple ever , wholee buncha play fights and laughing and shit

you can't take him seriously for shit , yall end up crackin up in the middle of an argument

"yo im sick of this shit bruh unadd him this his 3rd time textin u" ".. shess minee you stay away from her its not her timee ! head ass" "yo gtfo 😭"

he let you do his edges one day because you thought it was funny and begged him to , when he found out you tried to take a picture he stayed in his room until you agreed not to (you secretly still have one)

ARCADE DATES ARE A MUST (saying this cs i love them..) he always teases you before the two of you get there on how he's gonna beat u in every game

his hugs are the best , u could be breaking down and one hug from him is gonna make u feel all rainbows and sunshine ..

nigga is ALWAYS spoiling you.. you want it? mention that you want it around him? you gon get it within the next week/few days ..

ur house is his house .. his house is your house .. yall always at each other house..

"lets go home now im tired .." "which one?"

any insecurities? he gon kiss em

your #1 supporter no matter what you do or how wrong you are

whenever yall play roblox and someone stands on your head he WILL shoot them if its a game where he can kill people

he actually gets jealous so easily

HES ACTUALLY RLLY CLINGY

i had fun making these .. ill make more some other time

taglist: @marci-jean @gw3ndyswonderland @hiimayee @nokkihy @spiderheartzz @all444miles @444morales

#miles morales #atsv #miles x reader #spiderman atsv #e42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles headcanons

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rrxnjun · 11 months

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where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him.

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude.

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all.

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would.

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe.

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…”

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier.

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose.

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one.

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence.

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–”

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now– as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does.

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?”

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help.

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice.

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car.

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack.

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this?

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening.

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place.

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind.

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain.

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different.

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike.

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile.

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest.

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about.

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning.

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now.

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body.

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface.

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft.

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?”

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you.

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more.

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough.

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed?

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him.

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time.

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair.

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him.

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again.

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else.

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge.

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression.

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence. “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

1K notes · View notes

cactuscoolerr · 11 months

Note

OKAY BUT LIKE LOSER ISAGI, NAGI, BACHIRA AND POPULAR READER SNEAKING AROUND TO FUCK CAUSE THEY DONT WANNA RUIN THEIR REP?!?!

im sorry i got a lil excited

⋆｡˚. in secret - itoshi rin, bachira meguru, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro

• (nsfw)

• notes: my brain is buzzing i totally luv this concept a normal amount !! ɷ◡ɷ | also i’m adding rin cuz he’s my fav and i don’t wanna leave him out ╥﹏╥

. ˚ ｡⋆ itoshi rin

you had been avoiding rin’s subtle glances as he sat a few tables away from you. your friends had invited you to come to the library with them to study for finals, but you found it hard to focus once you saw rin and his friend group.

“you see that guy over there..?” one of your friends nudged your arms and not so subtly pointed at bachira meguru, one of rins friends. you nodded after stealing a glance at the boy with bangs before looking back down at your book. “he’s in my french class and he was talking about some imaginary friend he had. he’s such a freak”

some of your friends laughed upon hearing, the others telling them to shut up, having been deep into their study session.

you hadn’t met bachira, never having met any of rin’s friends, but he seemed like a nice guy. you didn’t have any issues with him ever since you found yourself interested in rin.

“heard that the white haired one is a gamer,” another one of your friends scoffed. “are they all nerds?”

“maybe they all became friends because no one else wanted to” your closest friend in the group snorted, causing the rest of the group to laugh. you could almost roll your eyes at how obnoxious they sounded but ignored them instead. that was until they had started mentioning rin.

you missed the way they all began looking at him, making it obvious. “i wonder how he’s not popular. with a brother like sae, you’d think he wouldn’t be such a loser”

at the mention of sae, your ears perked up and you looked towards rin like the rest of your friends. “he’s such a creep. he never talks and he just sucks around like some kind of weirdo”

“i even heard that he-” your friend stopped talking when you abruptly stood up with a book in your hand, not wanting to listen any longer. they all gave you questioning looks, making you clear your throat awkwardly. “uh.. i grabbed the wrong book”

it was quiet for a few seconds before one of your friends laughed. “and you just realized now?” she asked and you laughed softly. “yeah.. kind of embarrassing but i’m gonna go get the other one”

without having to hear what any of the others had to say, you quickly walking towards the rows of book shelves to look through random books and occupy yourself for a bit. or at least until they stopped talking badly about rin and his friend group.

“finally have enough of their shit talking?” you heard rin’s voice scoff from behind you. his tone sent a shiver down your spine but you turned around anyway. “did you hear..?”

rin nodded and you sighed, immediately going to apologize but he stopped you. “i don’t wanna hear you apologize because you didn’t say anything” he muttered and looked down at you with an intimidating gaze. “you can’t control what they say, right?”

you shook your head slowly but he still scoffed, likely wanting a different answer from you, though you didn’t know what. “decided i can’t come over tonight” rin looked away from you and slightly backed up.

“why not?” your eyebrows furrowed, slightly stepping forward to keep the close distance between you and your secret lover.

rin shrugged, “i don’t really like the idea of sneaking around with someone that has friends that talk bad about me” he muttered, looking back at you. “sounds weird, does it not?”

“no..” you said quietly, “it does sound weird. i’m sorry..”

your saddened gaze made rin’s heart race, finding the crease in your eyebrows and look of distress adorable. with a sigh, rin closed the distance and leaned down to kiss at your neck. a low moan fell passed your lips, making rin suck at your skin, lightly grazing his teeth to feel your squirm until he was satisfied.

with a lidded gaze, he looked down at you and admired the new mark on your neck. “maybe i will come over after all..” rin sighed and backed away again before leaving you to stand there alone.

it didn’t take very long for you to realize what rin did, frantically rubbing at the mark and wondering how you were gonna explain the hickey to your friends when you went back to the table.

. ˚ ｡⋆ bachira meguru

pushing you into the janitors closet, bachira was quick to push your shorts down while connecting his lips to your neck. your moans only fueled him to go faster as he pushed your panties to the side and shoved his fingers into your slick cunt. “feels like you’re all ready for my cock, hm?”

he grinned while pushing his pants and boxers down, making it quick like you two always had to. the both of you were used to it by now, quickies in the school building before going back to either of your dorms and fucking to your hearts content.

bachira understood good and well why you had to do it this way, and he didn’t mind it. it’s not like being an outcast was anything new to him, so he didn’t care as long as he could have your cunt sucking his cock in by the end of the day. if it was for you, he’d live the rest of his life unliked by everyone.

you whined sweetly into his mouth as he sunk in, groaning and making just as much noise as you were. the feeling of your cunt was unlike anything bachira had felt before. he could die like this.

“meguru..” you panted and grasped onto him tightly as your legs began to give out. “i got you..” bachira smiled softly and gripped your thighs, hoisting you up so you didn’t have to do anything but look pretty for him.

with the new position, bachira bounced you up and down on his cock with ease, slightly being able to thrust up into you, earning louder noises from you.

you held his face gently in your hands and desperately leaned down to kiss him, wanting to feel all of him and needing for him to feel all of the love you felt for him. you never wanted for your relationship to be like this, but you valued your school life too much. though, bachira was beginning to crack that as you began to think about what it would be like to happily walk through the school halls with bachira’s hand in your own, not caring about the judging glanced sent your way.

the thought of being able to be with bachira, free of judgment made you clench around his cock, making him break the kiss to whine into the crook of your neck.

“i’m so close..” he whimpered against your skin and you gently carded your fingers through his hair. “m-me too..” you said through a shaky exhale before suddenly cumming at the particularly hard slam of bachira’s hips against your ass.

the feeling of your cunt spasming around his cock was too much, making him moan and cum instantly inside of your tightening cunt and his hips unwillingly buck upwards.

the hard breathing from you and bachira filled the room as you felt sticky in his arms. but with the way bachira gently pressed his forehead against yours with a happy grin, you didn’t mind it very much as long as you got to be like this with him and him only.

. ˚ ｡⋆ isagi yoichi

isagi wasn’t entirely sure on why you invited him to your roommates party. the only person that he knew would be you and even then, you wouldn’t talk to him since you two weren’t necessarily friends.

it had been nearly an hour since isagi sat on a lone couch, gaining looks from people he didn’t know and people that likely didn’t know him. you had even walked by, just slightly glancing at him before running upstairs.

just when he was beginning to think coming was a bad idea, he got a text from you.

come upstairs. room at end of the hall he read to himself, already feeling his cock twitching in his pants. excitedly, he made his way up the stairs, searching for the room at the end of the hall that you told him to go to. the door was closed and he opened it to reveal you sitting on the bed, gently kicking your legs as you waited patiently for isagi to come find you.

upon seeing him, you immediately pounded on him, craving his taste from the make out session the two of you had in an empty classroom during classes just a few hours before.

“you’re drunk” isagi whispered against your lips, making you laugh softly. “had one drink to stop myself from riding you on that couch you were sitting on..” you gasped when isagi picked you up, his hands on your ass, and led you towards the bed.

immediately, isagi began trailing kisses down your neck, gently pulling down the straps of your dress before pulling it off of you and kissing down the rest of your body. “gonna make you feel so fucking good..” he breathed against your skin and leaned down, licking a stripe against your clothed cunt.

you shivered from the connection, and threw your head back with a quiet moan. isagi gently pulled your panties down and wasted no time in eating you out.

he was quick with his movements, bringing his fingers to sink into your cunt while he made out with your clit. it was sloppy and gross but you loved the way he made you feel. with the way he quickly fingered you and sucked your clit into his mouth, it wasn’t long until you could feel your oncoming orgasm.

“you like that?” isagi breathed out against your cunt, slightly pulling away to talk. “missed the way you tasted on my tongue..”

isagi felt you tighten around his fingers, groaning softly at the thought of you cumming on his face. “go on and cum for me, sweetie” he whispered and lapped quickly at your cunt, still fingering you until he felt you squirt against his face.

gladly opening his mouth, isagi drank your fluids, moaning at the taste while rutting against the bed like some kind of dog. it was enough to bring himself to his own release, leaving the both of you sweaty and moaning for more.

. ˚ ｡⋆ nagi seishiro

nagi was never fond of the idea of hiding how much he liked you. you said he has to pretend that he has no interest in you? that seemed like even more of a hassle to nagi than being totally infatuated with you, because he was.

having to make excuses to leave class after you did was a hassle, especially with the wondering gazes on him as he left.

but it was all worth it when he cornered you in an empty bathroom, towering over you with a dark gaze in his eyes. “don’t really like having to chase after you, pretty” he muttered, bringing his hand up to twirl your hair around his finger. with a sigh, he let his arm drop and looked at you for what you had to say.

“try not to think of it as chasing after me,” you smiled flirtatiously. “you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, nagi..”

he shivered at the tone of your voice, slightly glaring down at you with that usual pouty expression whenever you called him that. “i said you could call me by my first name, didn’t i?” he frowned, making you laugh softly. “you did, sei. i just love teasing you. you know that”

with another heavy sigh, nagi leaned down to kiss you like he’s been wanting to since you left his dorm this morning. he had been craving how your lips felt against his, your tongue gliding against his, and even more how your sweet cunt felt wrapped nicely around his cock.

he almost whimpered at the first touch of your hand against his hardening length. he almost couldn’t resist pushing you down to your knees and having you suck him off, looking up at him with that delicious gaze you always sent him.

“why do we have to do this here” nagi sighed while pulling back. “it’s such a hassle having to wait all day for you. it’s not fair..”

you leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “you know why,” a frustrated groan fell passed your lips, not liking the idea of explaining to nagi for the millionth time. “i like you, sei, but i also like my reputation, my friends. if they knew i was messing around with you, i don’t even know what they’d say”

“i don’t think you having mikage reo as a friend would help me out very much. you know what people think about you, right?”

despite hearing it all the time, hearing that most people didn’t like him from you made him wish that his social status was different. he never cared about it very much but if it meant that he couldn’t publicly be with you, nagi wanted for there to be a change.

“this sucks.” he muttered and leaned down to rest his head against your shoulder. “jus’ wanna be with you, pretty”

“i know,” you said softly and ran your fingers through his hair. “but hey..” nagi looked up at you and you laughed at the pout he had on his face. “you’re friends with that itoshi sae’s brother, right?”

you watched as nagi nodded before shrugging. “kinda.. we’re on the same team”

with a low hum, you nodded and gently caressed his face. “the itoshi’s aren’t necessarily outcasts here, ya know.. if you’re friends with rin, then it’s not too big of a stretch to say that you could build your relations with people”

you swiped nagi’s bangs from off of his forehead as he stared at the wall behind you. he hadn’t really been listening to what you were saying, spacing off from the feeling of your warm hand against his skin. “sei..?” you pushed his face gently so his gaze was on you again, finally snapping nagi out of his trance.

“let’s talk about this later,” he sighed, looking down at you with that darkened gaze again before flipping up your skirt and sliding his hand into the front of your panties. a soft gasp sounded from you as nagi sunk his fingers into your slick, using it to ease his fingers into your cunt without any problems. “just wanna feel you for now, pretty”

#bllk #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk headcanons #bllk smut #blue lock smut #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin smut #isagi yoichi smut #bachira meguru smut #nagi seishiro smut #isagi yoichi x reader #bachira meguru x reader #nagi seishiro x reader

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manganerdwrites · 5 months

Text

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝..?

with xiao & wanderer...

somebody give this man a hug istg

hes traumatised. like??? having your friends killed is enough -- BUT THERES MORE?! like someone give him a break pls MY GOD

Anyway, itll take him a long time to open up, especially if your human (vision having or not) because of his karmic dept.

Once youve gained his trust through almond tofu, the barriers will slowly break down. It’ll probably start with him randomly appearing to gift you something once in awhile, or watching you from afar when your traveling.

then he’d develop feelings, acting with you how he does the traveler, more open, friendly. he’d appear out of nowhere just to talk to you.

but after endless days of his pining, he’ll kiss the back of your hand goodbye, a faint blush on his cheeks as he faces away from you, vanishing into the night -- left with the cool breeze against your fuming cheeks and butterflies in your stomach.

so yes, he is your baby girl, but with too much baggage for just him to carry.

oh? another dark haired anime boy with trauma? add that one to the list-- so yeah, hes traumatized, i mean no shit sherlock?? i lowkey felt bad for him during the sumeru archon quest :((

he’d obviously be distant at first, actively pushing you away (unlike xiao) in an attempt to avoid being abandoned again. But the stubborn side of you dosent give up.

you begin to follow him around like a lost puppy, no matter how much he complains. Wanderers delusions of ’i dont enjoy their company!’ quickly fade away when after months of traveling with you, you get a fever.

Despite his icy nature and sharp tongue, he finds that he genuinely cares for you, replacing the wet towel on your forehead, holding your hand when you seem to be in pain -- flushing when you wake up momentarily to feel his touch.

Hell gaze into your eyes while you stare into teyvats star-littered sky, admiring your beauty -- love?! No! No way! He could never fall for you and your stupid hair!

At this point hes beyond in denial -- delusional.

even nahida has caught on, the god who wishes to feel like a human does.

but once you prove you wont leave him, wont abandon him like he has been oh so many times before, his walls come crashing down -- atleast for you. His recognition of his feelings begins his downward spiral of finding the right time to confess.

a/n: requests are open!! and can someone give scara a hug :(((

#Wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #Scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fan fiction #GIVE THEM HUGS AND KISSES THRY NEED IT #I luv them sm #btw I’m lowkey saving 4 wanderer and baizhu????#reqs open

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cottonconnielvr · 1 year

Note

can you write plug!connie but he yo baby daddy, love your work btw <3

WARNINGS ✩ — mom!reader(i got insane baby fever n i wanna be a stay at home mom so bad 😔), fluff, nothing honestlyyy

YOU woke up to the blaring sun in your face, causing you to scrunch your eyes up. It was 8:45 am. The usual time you wake up on the weekends. Yes the weekends. Being a stay at home mom, you were always up on your feet. Taking care of things at home while Connie took care of everything else.

Your body was locked in place from moving. Your daughter, Celeste, was wrapped around you from the back, squished between Connie who was facing you, his long arm wrapped around you both. You shook your head, assuming Celeste climbed in the bed in the middle of the night like she always does.

You slowly pried their arms off of you, leaving them quietly sleeping in bed. You headed to the bathroom, getting yourself ready for the day.

After a steamy shower and you’re 5-step skincare routine, you went to go make breakfast, deciding to make a standard breakfast.

Meanwhile, an hour and a half later, Celeste walked down the stairs, her teddy bear locked in her arms. The sound of Destiny’s Child filled her ears as she approached the kitchen island, struggling to lift her five year old body onto the chair.

“Morning mama, want some fruit?” Your daughter immediately smiled at the kiss pressed onto her forehead.

Celeste loves both of her parents, of course. Even as a five year old she knows all the stress you endure. But she’s never seen you cry, well she’s seen you cry over heels but that’s besides the point. She’s never seen either of her parents give up or argue. Even if she saw you upset at her dad, you always resolved the issue.You and Connie set your daughters standards very high.

“Yes pleaseee” She flashes a smile, very similar to Connie’s.

After preparing breakfast, you finally prepared the plates. “Mommy can I give daddy breakfast” Celeste speaks from across the island, now standing. But you can only see her puff of hair as it shows over the island.

You nod, grabbing a tray from the pantry and putting Connie’s plate on it. “Be careful” You warned, handing her the tray.

“Of courseeee” She dragged out. Man was she obsessed with that word.

Celeste carefully walked up the stairs, walking very slowly and steadily. She made sure his fruit wasn’t touching his bacon and his bacon didn’t touch the whipped cream on his waffles, just how he likes it.

“Daddyyy it’s morning time” She sung out as she stood next to the bed. Connie stirred in the bed, feeling it empty.

He looked over to his daughter, seeing her hold a tray with food and a huge smile on her face. Always smiling.. “Thank you babygirl” He grabbed the tray from her, immediately digging in. “Where’s your mom?” Connie asked Celeste as she climbed into bed beside him, stealing a piece of bacon from Connie’s plate , earning a side eye.

“She’s probably in the garden now but like um..um..are we still going to the mall today?” She took her time, smacking her teeth multiple times.

Connie shook his head at the little girl, “You are just like your mom mhm”

“DONT step on my shoes. My dad bought them and they’re custom made.” Celeste sassily crossed her arms over her chest, yelling at her distant “cousins”.

You and Connie decided to stop by the cookout Ony was throwing, Connie doing a couple of drops as well. There were kids there so nothing crazy would happen, Connie trusted his best guys with his two favorite girls so he felt okay with leaving.

“Oh yeah? My dad is like the biggest strongiest coolest ever!” One of the kids of a family friend argued. “Strongiest isn’t even a word” Celeste rolled her eyes. “That’s why my dad gave me this!” Celeste pulled out an one hundred dollar bill out of her pocket, causing the kids the gasp.

“Woah she’s like rich” One boy said from his spot on the floor. Celeste smiled, stuffing it back into her pocket. “Yeah so don’t act like I don’t have motion!” Celeste copied the word that she always heard her dad say around her.

Truth be told, Celeste was a bit….egotistical. I mean come on Connie Springer is her father. To her parents she’s an angel but once she’s around kids her age, she’s talking about how big the Eiffel tower really is and how clear the water is in Fiji.

She’s a spoiled brat, just like you, in every single way.

After playing for hours, Celeste dramatically laid across your lap. “When is dad coming back” Just then she jumped up, seeing the sight of her father.

“Hi daddy!” He lifted her up into the air before just holding her on the side of his waist. “Hey princess, you have fun?” She hummed, nodding her head before he placed her down.

“Hi A-armin” Celeste waved while looking up, her face growing hot. Armin was Celeste’s first crush. “Hey little one” Armin smiled down at the child, patting her head before handing her a $5 bill. “I hear the ice cream truck, why don’t you get yourself something”

Celeste couldn’t stop her smile, her kiddy crush feeling much more like true love. She ignored her fathers scowl and hugged the blonde’s legs before running off to the front yard with Onyankopon and a group of kids.

“Calm down boy, it’s just a silly little crush” You walked over to Connie, handing him your cup to sip out of. Your hand went around his waist, pulling him into a side hug.

“She’s only five. She doesn’t need any crushes, especially on Armin” Armin jerks his head back at the emphasis on his name.

“Acting like i’m ugly or something” He shook his head before greeting some other people. “Y’know she thinks he looks like a disney prince or something. Anyways how was your run?” You walk infront of Connie, grabbing his hand. He trailed behind you with the cup still in his hand. His eyes were glued to your butt in the skin tight sundress. “Hm baby?” You ask completely unaware. The weather was breezy and dawn had settled in, painting the sky purple and blue.

“Y’know I still want a son as well?” Connie completely ignored your question, his front pressing up against your back as his hand trailed down to your butt, lightly squeezing.

You jumped, gasping out “Connie there are innocent children here!”

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ev3rgreenxtrees · 2 months

Text

Pacify Her

-M.S

Synopsis: Matt and you always had a thing. That was until he got a girlfriend, whom he claims he loves. Even after he cheats on her with you.

Pairing: Dom!Matt Sturniolo X Girly!Sub!Fem!Reader (she/her.)

Warnings: Cheating, smut, unprotected p in v (wrap the willy. dont be silly.), Thigh riding, Oral (m & f receiving), foul language, praise kink, degradation kink, angst, pet names (ma, mamas, baby, darling, pretty girl, ext.), stomach bulge, choking, aftercare.

“That basic bitch leaves finally

Now I can take her man

Someone told me stay away from things that aren't yours

But was he yours, if he wanted me so bad?”

•

You laid, sprawled out on the triplets large couch. Your head on Chris’ lap, your feet on Matts’ lap. Nick made you all, including Matts’ stupid fucking girlfriend, watch ‘Edward Scissorhands’ again. You couldn’t help but want to make Matt ruin you in front of his spoiled rotten girlfriend, but Matt would never forgive you. He claimed he loved her, but you know he didn’t. Maybe he just doesn’t know yet.

You and Matt had been fucking for a long while before ‘his girl’ showed up. You were first. You both agreed on strictly fucking, no strings attached, and Matt seemed to have that down— but you couldn’t help it. He was everything you wanted, not only in sex. However, Matt found someone to replace you. Not completely, though.

Everytime Matt was hovering over you, pounding into you relentlessly, he’d tell you how you were so much better than her. How she never pleased him, how she was vanilla. He always claimed you were so much better to him, until he has to leave. Then all the sudden, she’s the love of his life.

She treats him like shit, though. You’re convinced she’s only using him for money and fame. Within the first week of them dating, figuring things out, she borderline forced them to come out as a couple online. She wasn’t a public figure before their relationship, but now theres many edits of her by herself, and with Matt.

She makes the poor boy take her shopping and carry her bags all the time- even online. If he dares to say anything about her carrying her own bags or buying her own items, she’d claim it’s his responsibility as ‘her man’. You despised her, and you let her know all the time, but when you do, she cries to her ‘Matty bear’, and makes him scold you. As if they were your parents.

You never understood why Matt stayed with her. Maybe it was backlash of the internet, maybe he was just scared. However, he refused to tell you. Each time you ask him why he hasn’t left her, he claims it’s because he ‘loves her’. You know he doesn’t.

“I’m gonna go home now. Bye, Matty. Bye boys.” His girlfriend states, standing off the couch, completely ignoring your existence— which you appreciated. She kissed Matt’s cheek, and she got up and left. No one said bye to her. Even though you were pretty sure Nick and Chris felt the same about her as you did, they wouldn’t say it, they claimed they supported their brother.

Matt acts annoyed, and lets out a loud huff.

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.” He gruffly speaks, heading to his room angrily. This is what he does. Every time. It’s your cue to go ‘check on him’, but what ends up happening every time is him slamming into you, telling you how you’re made for him and your his, but he’s not yours. You admit —to yourself only— that it hurts. No one knows this little tradition you guys have, and Matt keeps it that way.

“What’s his issue?” Chris scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Mattitude is back. He’s just mad ‘cause the bitch didn’t give him his daily blowie before she left.” Nick joked, and Chris let out a loud cackle.

“Nick, shut the fuck up!” Chris scolded, his laughter slowly fading. “You’re fucked for that one.” He shakes his head in dissaproval.

“I’ll go check on him,” You sigh playfully, sitting up, removing your head from Chris’ lap. The boy let a little groan out as you got off of him, and you rolled your eyes. “Get your own girl to lay her head on your dick, Chris.” You teased, and he gasped. However, you were out of the room and down the hall before he could say anything.

You knocked softly on Matt’s door, before entering without him saying a word.

“What the fuck? What if I was jacking off.?” Matt growls, but you roll your eyes.

“Not like I haven’t seen your dick before.” You scoff. “What’s your issue?” You ask, sitting beside him on the bed.

“Nothing.. Just..” He sighs, resting his head on your shoulder. “Y’know she doesn’t treat me like you do..” He hums, looking up at you with doe eyes, his long fingers fiddling with the straps of your tank top.

“I know, Matt.. But you know we can’t keep doing this. Not when you have a whole ass girlfriend.” You shake your head.

“‘M done with her, I only want you,” He reassures, bringing his face closer to your neck, beginning to place slow, sensual kisses along your neck. Another lie. He always lies. It’s always ‘you’re better’ or ‘ill end it with her, I promise’, but when you wake up the next morning, there she is, all up on her boyfriend. Fucking sickening.

Another thing with Matt was, he’s rough. You don’t know if he’s rough with her, but he sure as hell is with you- but he’s smart about it. Only leaving marks where he could see. The occasional times he’d accidentally place a hickey too high, you’d have to lie to everyone for him and say you had a one night stand.

“So pretty,” He hums, moving his hands down to cup your enclosed tits. “Strip for me, hm?” He says, his voice muffled against your neck. You slowly nod, as he stood off of you. Usually, Matt took his time with you, undressing you himself, teasing you along the way. You wonder what he had in mind this time.

You obeyed, stripping your shorts and shirt off, leaving yourself in your adorable white lace set. Matt had semi-stripped as well, now only in his boxers, his bulge clearly visible. Your eyes trailed up and down the boy’s body, before he sat back down on the bed, his back against the headrest.

“Wanna try somethin’ new, ‘kay, mamas?” He asked, gently grasping your hips. You nod. “Good girl. Want you to ride my thigh. Think you can do that f’me?” He asks, gently caressing your cheek.

“Yes,” You reply shakily, before he lifts you up slightly, guiding you to his thigh, setting you down. You couldn’t help but wonder if he ever tried these things with you, knowing you’d say yes, and then propose the idea to his girlfriend if he likes it enough.

You begin to rub yourself along his thigh, your wetness soaking his leg through your panties, allowing you to slide easier. You bit your lip as your clit hit against the muscles in his thigh, which he’d flex ever so often, to give you more pleasure. His hands were around your waist, guiding you, as he kissed your collarbones and the visible part of your tits.

You let out a small whimper, and Matts’ hand slipped to your panties, slipping them to the side, allowing you to have skin-on-skin. You let your head fall backwards, as you gripped at the sheets, the muscles of his leg hitting right where you wanted them to. You felt yourself getting closer.

“So pathetic.” Matt taunts. “Trying so hard to get off on my leg,” He growls in your ear, one hand slipping from your waist to behind you, allowing him to massage at the thick skin of your ass.

“Close,” You warned, and he shook his head.

“Disgusting, wanting to make a mess all over my thigh.” He growled, his eyes staring into yours.

“Please..?” You asked, taking your bottom lip into your mouth, allowing you to stifle your noises.

“Cum for me. All over my thigh.” Matt permits, and you do. All over his thigh. Your white juices running down his leg, as you slowed your movements. His dick twitched at the sight of the mess you made. “Good girl.” He praised, gently moving the hair out of your face, resting his hand on the back of your head, as he pulled you into a heated kiss.

This kiss wasn’t rough, though. Matt was always rough with you. This kiss was filled with hunger and passion, but something else you couldn’t quite pin-point. This kiss was slow, saliva swapping, unlike the other ones, drool on your chin and teeth clashing.

Matt slowly pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouthes. Matt smiles, before placing a kiss to your forehead, pushing you down, eye-level with his enclosed cock.

“Use your pretty mouth on me, darling.” He demands, and you do. You slowly pull his boxers down, allowing his hardened member spring out. You spit on his tip as you held him gently, slowly stroking the spit and pre-cum mixture. “That’s it, good girl.” He breathed shakily.

You licked along the underside of his cock, flowing along the protruding vein he had there. His breathing quickened, and his hand never left the back of your head. You slowly swirled your tongue over his tip, sliding it through his slit, before bobbing your head down- stroking what you couldn’t reach with your hand.

“I said use your mouth, not your hand, didn’t I?” Matt taunts, slapping your hand away, before forcing you to take all of his cock in your mouth. It hurt your throat, and stray tears pricked at your eyes as he throat fucked you, but you felt him twitch in your mouth, and you knew it was worth it.

You hollowed out your cheeks, and allowed yourself to whine against him, the sound sending vibrations throughout his body. His hips jolted every once in a while, and your vision became blurry, due to the amount of tears were running down your face, dripping onto the boys legs below you.

“F-fuck- that’s it, g-good girl,” He groans, and his grasp on your hair tightened. “G-gonna cum in y-your mouth, yeah?” He pants, and you let out a small moan, letting him know you approve. “Fuck- Thats it,” He growls, releasing his load into your mouth, as his head fell backwards. His hand gripped tightly at your hair, before releasing you, allowing you to pull off of his cock, swallowing every last drop of his salty cum.

He tastes just like how he always does. He grabs your neck roughly, shoving you backwards onto the bed, hovering over you. He lowers himself, placing open-mouthed kisses along your body, until he gets to your panties. He then paced a teasing kiss to the soaked part of your panties, causing you to squirm.

“Hold still f’me. Wanna taste you,” He demands, and you nod. You allow yourself to grip the sheets and covers of the bed, preparing yourself. Matt knew how to work his tongue- he was fucking amazing.

You squirmed below him, causing the brunette boy to roughly grip your hips, hard enough to cause them to have marks tomorrow when you wake up. Sometimes you hated when Matt leaves marks, because they leave you craving for more. Other times, they’re your favorite part of this, knowing you can have him anytime you want. Besides when his girlfriend is there.

His tongue delved into your sopping cunt, his nose brushing against your clit, as the boy vigorously shook his head.

“Oh, god, Matt.. ‘M gonna cum-“ You gasp, your grip on the sheets so tight, that your knuckles were becoming white. That’s how Matt knew he was doing good. Your legs begin to shake, and he lifts his head just enough to make eye-contact with you, sending you over the edge. You allowed yourself to release all over his face, his tongue lapping your juices up before pulling away.

“Y’ so pretty,” He hummed, slipping two fingers through your slick, collecting the little remainder of your juices, shoving his fingers into your mouth. Everything this man did was so hot— how the fuck did his girl fumble this bad? “Get comfortable f’me, ‘kay, mamas? Gon’ fuck you jus’ like this,” He told you, as he slid his tip through your silky folds, causing you to whimper.

His left hand held himself up, resting beside your neck, just above your shoulder, and his right hand gripped at your waist, gently massaging. He dipped his tip into your cunt, before slowly pushing himself all the way in. You closed your eyes, as you usually did in missionary- or any other position that you guys were face-to-face in.

“Fuck, baby. So tight. Keep ya eyes open, sweetheart.” He grunted, and you slowly opened your eyes, keeping your eyebrows furrowed. Matt hated making eye contact with you when you were fucking. He claimed it made him feel more ‘guilty’, so you guys did everything to avoid eye contact. Why not now?

His eyes stayed locked on yours, as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, waves of pleasure shocking your body. The boy slowly increased his pace, keeping a steady incline, until he was pounding into you. You and him both let out strings of moans and cusses. His right hand trailed up from your hip to your neck, squeezing, using that to keep you in place rather than your hip.

You let your own hands grip at his wrist and bicep, not necessarily pulling him away, but rather keeping him there. Your breathing shallowed, as his eyes tailed down your body, smirking when he noticed the bulge in your stomach when he pushed completely in. This was probably the best you’ve ever had with Matt. With anyone, for that matter.

“Mph- Fuck, See that, darling? See how deep I am?” He groans, his hand removing from your neck, moving down to your lower stomach, exactly where the bulge appeared and disappeared at. His thrusts begin to get sloppier, their speed still staying the same, however.

“M-Matt- need to cum-!” You cried, and Matt shushed you.

“Mhm, mhm,” He hums. “I know, pretty girl. Gotta be quiet for me, though. Cum with me.” He says, letting a moan slip out afterwards, as your cum began streaking his dick. He released himself inside of you. He knew you were on birth control, but he still never came inside of you.

He slowly pulled himself out, but instead of laying down for a few minutes, like he usually does before leaving, he just walks away. You don’t say anything, you’re used to it. You’ve learned it’s best to ignore him after sex. However, moments later, you feel a cold and soft sensation at your sensitive core, Causing you to jump. Your eyes shoot down, and you see Matt carefully and gently wiping you off with a wet rag. He had already wiped himself off, and had a pair of boxers on.

You looked at him confused, but laid your head back down, and allowed him. He tossed the rag elsewhere, before pulling a fresh pair of his boxers onto you. You appreciated the gesture, since your pair of panties was soaked with your own cum from riding his thigh. He then unexpectedly grabs one of his hoodies, slipping it onto you.

He then crawls into the bed beside you, pulling you against him, laying your head on his chest, as he allowed himself to play with your hair.

“Matt, this is wrong,” You mumble, and he sighs.

“I told you i’m done with her. I called her when I was cleaning myself off.” He states, and your heart flutters.

You could finally have her man.

•

“Pacify her,

She’s getting on my nerves.

You don’t love her,

Stop lying with those words.”

『 ↳✧･ﾟ Finn yaps❕ ;

OKAYYY TELL ME WHY I FEEL LIKE I KINDA ATEEEE???? Even as a person who refuses to believe matt is a top..😏😻 but like tell me why my spotify links have NOT been wanting to work recently and now they just look stupid???

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @75sturn @imwetforyourmom

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #fluff #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #fanfic #angst #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut

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