#you know i cant help myself with the angst

[sincerelyneo]

could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐

mad at you | l.mk

“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”

💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we

❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.

❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader

❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex

❯ words: 4.3k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.

an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.

The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 

But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 

You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.

So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 

He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 

He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 

The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.

“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”

You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 

“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”

You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”

"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."

Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”

His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 

“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”

“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”

“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”

“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”

You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.

“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 

“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”

“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 

Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 

“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”

You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 

“Oh, so you want to break up?”

He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”

The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 

Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.

Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.

“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”

“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 

Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 

He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.

After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 

It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 

Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.

Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 

As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 

You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.

The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.

However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.

“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  

You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”

Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.

His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 

"I thought you left..."

Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.

“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 

You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 

He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”

His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 

"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."

Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."

"No—"

He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."

Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.

"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."

"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"

Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"

His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.

"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."

You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”

You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.

Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.

His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.

You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.

He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.

“‘s okay,” you whimper. 

Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.

He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 

He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 

And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 

“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”

You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 

“Mark…” 

“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 

You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.

And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.

As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 

You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 

He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 

Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 

The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.

You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 

You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 

Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.

Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.

And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 

You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 

So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...

“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”

You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.

“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”

And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 

And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 

The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 

You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 

You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.

"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.

"I’m sorry," you say softly.

You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."

[kaisturni]

rope bunny (pillow princess pt 2) | c. sturniolo

→ chris x fem!reader

→ plot; after your first night with chris, you do your best to stay out of the radar of his brothers. when you two return back to your room after filming, chris has a kink he wants to work out with you.

→ includes; smut, unprotected sex, restraining, f! oral, getting caught (kinda), creampie, angst if you squint, light fluff

→ a/n; i was going to post tomorrow but i could not WAIT hope i did it justice for everyone since this is my most loved fic (out of three lol but still crazy) and this one’s for the horny freaky FUCKS, ur just like me and i’m just like u, enjoy 🙈

NOT PROOFREAD

——————————————————————————

i opened my eyes and squint, adjusting to the bright sun entering the room. i’m still naked, still hugging chris, and still buzzed from the events of last night.

he’s already on his phone, and when he notices that i’m awake and looking at him, he smiles and peppers kisses all over my face,

“mornin’ baby,” placing the last kiss on my lips, making sure this one was longer than the others.

“good morning, how did you sleep?” i ask while stretching, the blanket slipping down, exposing my bare chest.

chris bites his lip lightly, “slept good, feeling even better now,” he whispers into my ear, taking a hand and squeezing.

i do my best to not groan at his action, since the day has just started, “chris! seriously? not right now!” i laugh, slightly pushing him away and crawling out of bed to get myself into the shower.

he frowns at the loss of contact, “sorry i just cant help mysel- are you showering? can i come with???” he pleads after watching me grab a towel and shuffle to the bathroom,

as much as i want to get in to the shower with him right now, i know were in a rush and we have places to be with nick and matt, and i don’t think we need them on our trail with both of us coming out of the room with wet hair.

“didn’t you shower last night? plus we have to get going in 20, that’s not enough time for-“

“for what?” he smirks,

“nothing, it’s just not enough time!” i half yell, slamming the bathroom door. honestly, the fact that he’s so needy already is cute.

it makes me wonder how he’s going to act when we’re with nick and matt. is it going to be awkward? obvious? are they going to clock us right away and never speak to me again? i shudder at my own imagination. i guess we’ll find out today.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

they haven’t picked up on anything.

which is good, because chris and i aren’t exactly doing a very good job at keeping a low profile.

he’s been stealing kisses from me all day; whenever the camera is not on, we’ll find ourselves trailing behind the group just to give each other a few quick pecks,

even sitting next to me and squeezing my thighs under the table when we go out to eat, laughing when he sees me trying to control myself under his touch.

“we’ve got to get going to the driskill now, is everyone ready?” nick asks, and we all nod following him out of the restaurant and to the hotel.

of course, chris and i “unintentionally” trail to the back again, holding hands and kissing behind his oblivious brothers.

that is, until matt turns his head around just as chris is about to kiss me again, and we have to almost rip apart at his eye contact.

“jesus, what’s wrong with you two??” matt questions with a chuckle, with good reason because i’m obviously extremely startled by almost getting caught.

“nothing, i was just saying something to scare her before we got to the hotel,” chris says nonchalantly, the lie slipping off his tongue easily.

“well i don’t want to know, i’m already fucking terrified,” nick chimes in, thankfully not turning around and continuing to keep his eyes ahead of him.

matt agrees, and they carry their own conversation, forgetting about us. chris gives me a little wink and a quick peck on the side of the head, both of us in a silent agreement not to try anything to close to them, it not being worthy the risk.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

we’ve been filming for about an hour or two at this point, we end up in a room where sam and colby decide this is where we’re doing the estes method.

“okay so y/n and nick can go first, just sit over on that couch put these blindfolds and headphone on and you’ll start hearing words playing back to you,” sam tells us while handing nick and i our gear.

chris watches me without even blinking while i put my blindfold on, and i stare back at him until i see nothing.

nick and i do it for about 10 minutes and we were able to get some good stuff for their video,

“matt and chris, how about y’all try it next” colby says as nick and i unblind ourselves.

i hand chris my blindfold and he bends down to my level, “you look so fucking sexy with a blindfold on, remind me to steal those from them later,” he whispers and smiles devilishly, taking the blindfold from my hands and claiming my spot.

i can feel my heart rate pick up at both his comment and our proximity to the others, it seems like he really does not care about getting caught; or he just lives for the thrill of it.

now that him and matt have the blindfolds on, chris starts man spreading, bucking his hips upwards and throwing his head back.

this man knows exactly what he’s fucking doing.

every word he says is in a low, slow voice, and i’m sure he’s laughing in his head at the vision of me squirming at what he’s doing.

him and matt finish, chris taking matt’s blindfold from him, “i can put these away for you guys,” he says to colby, and he thanks him and the group starts walking towards the bathroom.

i look back at chris and he’s shoving the blindfolds into his pocket, bringing his index finger to his lips, giving me a silent hush. my breath hitches and i don’t want to even let myself get hot and bothered by what he could be having in store for me later.

the fantasy that almost begins to brew in my head is flushed by nick and matt's whispers ahead of me.

“i don’t know, it’s weird!”

“i don’t believe you for a second.”

“i swear, i don’t know what happened last night, but something is going on between them,”

i feel my heart sink to my stomach the second i hear those words come out of matt’s mouth. he must have suspected something when we were walking to the hotel. were we being that obvious the whole day? i can’t even remember at this point.

i can feel my heart race and breath pick up, anxiety seeping through my body before i feel a hand on my shoulder,

“you good?” chris looks at me, a worried expression on his face.

the last thing i want to do is make him worry about his brother’s speculations, so i give him a half hearted smile,

“yes, just tired that’s all,” his eyes search my face,

“me too, it’s okay we’ll be done filming soon,” he pats my shoulder lightly and turns to talk to his brothers. i’m jealous of how calm he’s able to be with the way he’s asking. it’s not like i’m the one who’s being risky, but it sure as hell feels like it does.

✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧ : *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

it’s around one in the morning when we say goodbye to sam and colby and start heading back to our own hotel.

i decided to walk with nick instead of chris, and even then i can feel matt’s eyes burning into the back of my head.

i do my best to actually keep eye contact with him whenever he looks at me just so i can show i don’t have the “we both know i’m with your brother” expression on my face.

“goodnight, we’ll see you guys tomorrow to check out thrifts and shit,” chris starts, before beginning to walk in the direction of our room.

“what? i thought we were all going to hang in our room for a little,” nick asks, looking at me confused,

“nah, y/n told me she’s super tired and i don’t want to keep her up if i come in late, right, y/n?”

god he’s so fucking good on the spot it drives me nuts.

“yeah i’m exhausted, all that ghost hunting has me beat, but don’t worry nick i promise shopping tomorrow will make up for it,” i say,

“keep your promise missy!”

i salute him before giving nick an arm hug and walking away as we blow each other a kiss.

chris keys us in to our room, while looking back at me with a sweet smile and kisses me on the cheek,

“m’lady,” he says while ushering me to go in, causing me to roll my eyes and giggle.

i don’t even have time to think before chris slams me into the door of the room and pushes his lips into mine.

we moan into each others mouths, his arms snaking around my waist and mine wrapping around his neck on cue.

“fuck, i’ve been needing you all day, i don’t know how i waited this long,” chris says breaking the contact between our mouths and moving his lips down to my neck with a trail of sloppy kisses,

“jump,” he demands, and i do and he holds my legs in place around his legs,

“chris,” i breathe out, unable to come up with complete sentences to say.

he moves his lips back up to mine, and without breaking our kiss lays me down on the bed, himself still standing over me.

chris breaks away fast and harsh, i look at him slightly confused,

“what’s wrong? what are you do-oh my god,”

chris pulls out both blindfolds he stole while we were filming, which i had entirely forgotten about. honestly i thought he just put them in his pocket for the theatrics, but i was dead wrong.

“thought i forgot about these, huh? i couldn’t get the sight of you with it on out of my head,” he says while removing my top then kissing the part of my breasts that are exposed through my bra.

“i couldn’t decide if i wanted to blindfold you or tie you up with it, so i decided on both. now strip,” he stands up tall and holds the silky fabric between his hands, wrapping it around his left knuckles.

i do as i’m told and i get completely naked, sinking to the ground in front him.

he takes his top layers off until he’s standing there in just pants, eyes dark and peering down at me.

i can feel myself quickly getting soaked, and chris grabs my throat and pulls me up closer to his level,

“you’re gonna do as i say, got that baby?” i nod vigorously, and he motions for me to lay on the bed.

“put your arms pretty girl,” he husks, kissing up my naked body before tying my wrists together in a bow above my head.

“i didn’t think you would be into this kind of thing, christopher,” i purr at him, watching chris bite his lip at my comment,

“i’m mainly just in to you, and since you’re mine i get to try anything i want with you, right?” he says, dipping down to suck on my nipple.

the feeling causes me to moan and squeeze my legs together, aching for him to absolutely fuck me senseless.

“r-right,” i say in a breathless agreement, and he gives me that devilish smile once again.

“good. now just lay back and enjoy it all baby,” he brings the blindfold up to my face and i lift my head so he can tie it around my head.

immediately i feel his hand go between my soaking core, causing me to arch my back even his gentle touch,

“you’re already so wet, you make it so hard to not fuck you so quick,” his voice rings into my ears like a melody as his two fingers enter me with ease.

“oh fuck, mmm…chris-“ i wriggle in my makeshift handcuffs when he curls his fingers with each pump, hitting the perfect spot every single time.

he removes his fingers from inside me, and i groan at the void of the pleasure that was building up inside me.

suddenly he pushes my legs further apart, and i gasp when i feel his mouth sucking on my clit.

pornographic moans echo in the room, and he buries his face deeper into my pussy, vibrations of his moans sending me further into a frenzy.

i’d give fucking anything to grip on to his hair right now, but since that option was taken away from me i’m left squirming under his touch, feeling the knots in my stomach grow tighter by the minute.

“shit right there, don’t fucking stop please,” i feel like i’m going to explode as he goes between sucking on my clit and giving fast licks to it on the tip of his tongue.

“how could i? you taste so sweet, y/n, god i love your pussy in my face,” he says before immediately going back to his attack on my core.

“b-baby i’m so close,” i practically scream out,

“let it all out f’me pretty girl,” he mumbled against me, and i release all over, feelings my legs trembling over my high.

i feel chris’ soaking wet mouth on my lips again, tasting myself as he explores my mouth with his.

he breaks away and i inhale deeply, picking up the sounds of his belt and the undoing of a zipper.

i feel his dick rub between me a few times before he immediately starts thrusting, holding my hips in place for his movement.

“ah chris! too much, too much!” i groan, my body still aching and the overstimulation well washed on me.

“no, take it—take it like the good girl i know you are,” he says, not breaking a rhythm of the pace of him slamming into me.

our moans meet once again, and his roughness only takes me further on the path to another orgasm.

he only moves his body to kiss me, rough and hard like his own movements.

“fuck y/n, i’m not lasting long with you,” he whimpers out, and i cant even focus on the words he’s saying because of the fire ready to burst inside of me.

“chris i-i’m gonna c-cum again,” i manage to say barely above a whisper, i’m so fucked out that even breathing is a challenge at this point.

“cum with me,” he says, his thrusts becoming sloppier, and we both reach out highs, feelings myself becoming warm with my own and his juices mixing inside of me.

chris removed the blindfold around my wrists and face, his tired eyes meeting mine.

he kisses all over my face with slow, gentle presses, “how was that?” he asks, then kissing the tip of my nose once more.

it’s insane how much of a different person chris turns into when we fuck.

“it was so good chris, thank you,” i say before reaching for my phone and crawling back on top of the bed.

chris joins me, and i lay on his body with my leg thrown over him; gently scratching my leg.

i notice i’m at low battery, thinking to get a charger, but immediately groaning in annoyance.

“what, what’s wrong?”

“i left my charger in their room. can you go get it? they must think i’m asleep by now,” i ask with doe eyes.

i know he’s going to do it anyway, but what’s the fun without teasing?

he laughs, “well since you asked so nicely,” he says before pecking my cheek,

“i can, i’ll be right back,”

i hum in response and he gets up, throwing just his boxers and a robe on.

i don’t bother putting on any clothes yet, but i do make myself comfortable in the blanket of the bed.

i close my eyes and hear the door open,

“okay WHAT the fuck.”

my eyes shoot open as i see matt and nick looking straight at me, horror filling both of their eyes.

chris is in a robe, i’m still very obviously naked, and there’s the stolen blindfolds on the bed; it’s not a good look.

i don’t even know what to say, the ringing in my ears beginning, feeling like i’m going to pass out.

why are they even here? were they listening? waiting?

i’m so full of embarrassment and anger, that i can’t even control myself.

“GET OUT, ALL OF YOU GET OUT!” i scream, and all of them look at me in shocked silence while i take the heap of blanket out of the bed with me and shove chris out of the room into the hallway with nick and matt.

it isn’t his fault, but it kind of is. for some reason i’m not really angry with him, more so at the situation. all of this could’ve been avoided if we just said something sooner and that’s what makes me feel the worst.

i quickly change into a pair of chris’ sweats and my own tshirt, rubbing my face into my palms as i brace myself to open the door again.

“y/n-“ matt starts,

“so you think it’s okay to fucking listen in on us through the door like a creep? what is wrong with you!” i yell, feeling the tears begin to pool into my eyes,

“no, no! that’s not what happened, we came because-“

“i heard what you said at the driskill!”

“what?” chris looks at the two confused, and they just ignore his expression and relay their focus back to me,

“y/n, we were just joking around. we came to bring you your charger that you left in my bag. anyway, we didn’t think actually anything was going on between you two.” nick starts calmly, allowing my own temper to mellow out with his soft speaking.

“yeah, we were just messing around. but obviously there was some… truth to it,” matt finishes.

chris sits silently next to me on the bed rubbing my back while i bury my face in my hands in shame.

“i’m so sorry guys, i don’t want you to fucking hate me for this, especially you nick; we were friends first,” i lightly sob into my hands and nick sits down on the other side of me,

“hey no, i, we, could never hate you for dating our brother— you guys are like, dating now right?” he says, looking at chris with raised eyebrows,

and i look at him, knowing we’re more that just fuck buddies; he said so himself. but just out of the curiosity of what he will say to his own brothers.

“of course we are,” we smile at each other and i turn back to nick,

“then i’m happy for you both. just remind me to fucking rip my ears and eyes out after hearing, and SEEING what i just witnessed,” he exclaims, throwing his hands up and closing his eyes, trying to shake the memories from his head.

“oh GOD, please tell me you didn’t hear much?” i look at him and matt with pleading eyes,

“don’t worry, just the OHHH CHRIS, IM GONNA CUM!” matt mocks him; nick groaning in disgust and chris and i turning red at his words.

“okay okay, thank you guys now get out, and don’t stick around uninvited,” chris says, getting up and opening the door for them.

“hope you guys will actually be fuckin asleep when we see you next!” nick says, the door following soon behind him.

chris takes a deep sign, “well, that was out sooner than later. are you okay?”

“yeah, i am. i’m glad they know now, i don’t know how long we could’ve kept this up without them knowing,” i say,

he plays with the end of my hair, “me too, i never want to keep you a secret,” he gives me a half crooked smile,

i kiss him gently and wrap my arms around him, his presence safe and calming.

“thank you, chris. i do need to shower though, i’m still… covered,” i say, collecting a towel and some of chris’ clothes he’s been letting me borrow.

“can i come with this time?”

“chris!”

——————————————————————————

@chrizzpiecreme @viiiwwwee @mattsbrowser @anna-sturniolo @kellynlovesmatt

[just-some-random-blogger]

The Supreme Empress

Kylo Ren x Reader

Summary: The dark side chose you. They pried you out of the rebel camps and dragged you from the ashes and the corpses of your family. The dark side chose you to strengthen the force, to be the vessel for their plans, to be the bride of the Supreme Leader's pupil, to bear Kylo Ren's seed and ensure the might of their divine wrath.

Word Count: 11k+ 🧍‍♀️💀

Warnings: fem!Reader, slow burn, forced marriage AU, themes of stockholm syndrome/gaslighting/brain washing, mentions/depictions of violence, enemies to lovers?, smut (scratching, marking, ?manipulating?, fingering, vaginal penetration, cock warming), fluff, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: this fucking ai chat man. fuck that shit MINORS DNI honestly. its my fault for making a plot. i just wanted to write smut fml. i hate it here. i couldn't even finish it cos now i cant write the smut dafaq? anyway im sure i got typos so you must forgive me. i have not gone through this yet and i need to brush my teeth and pull myself together bye Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx

I fell to my knees. I was in tears, in dust, in blood, and in pain. My wrists were bound behind me and my clothes were tattered and torn.

This was it. This was the day I die. I felt it in my bones. This was the reckoning.

And then my deliverer, my executioner, came before me. And then I felt the Force in him echo in the room and ripple through me like a blade through my chest.

It was him. The phantom that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. He was the nightmare in my sleep, and the damning voice in my head in the morning. The dark warrior, death given form, the murmuring voice of the shadows.

The Sith Lord.

Here he is, crossing this bridge from the entrance of this cursed compound.

The place is busy, busy with its plans of destruction. I heave at the grandness of it all. It was terrifying to see it up close, especially since I was evidently at the top, and it was a very long drop down.

I crane my neck up at him, face stained with tears. I was exhausted but I put on my last show. I bared my last look of defiance before he kills me, before he finally completes this cycle of torment he has been inflicting onto me.

I close my eyes and await his judgement.

I feel him come before me, but he instead walks past, and I hear someone choke from behind.

"Did I not instruct that she be left unharmed?" his voice barks through his dark mask.

My heart pounds as I hear straining from behind me. I steal a look from over my shoulder and instantly regret it when I see the two stormtroopers that dragged me here get thrown down the side of the bridge. I shudder. Like I said, it's a long drop down.

I look straight when he returns to me. I feel him undo my shackles with his Force, and then... he clutches my arm to help me stand.

I look up at him. I see my reflection on his helmet. I clench my jaw, "what do you want from me?"

"My empress-"

My stomach rolls.

"-I have finally retrieved you from your sullied camp to bring you to your rightful place next to me. To claim you as my own."

A shiver runs down my spine.

No, this can't be real.

My breathing strains. I grip my hands and I begin to step back.

It electrocutes me, this searing cold voice in my brain. It was a suddenly as if I remembered the dialogue in the horrors of my slumber that I so hardly tried to suppress. It was replaying now, the voice of the malevolent, the voice of the creature ruling my nightmares. "I give you to my pupil. With your Force converged with his, the purest of warriors will be borne. And my power will know no bounds."

"You remember now, bride," my captor iterated, "that voice in your head right now-- that is the Supreme Leader; that is Snoke."

I step back, "bride?" my breath hitches.

I was his b--

My knees almost give in, but again, his hold on my arm keeps me upright.

I feel my eyes begin to water.

Please, please, let this be another horrible, horrible nightmare.

"Is everything prepared?"

"Yes, my lord," two voices call out from behind me.

"Good," he says, and I released, "I will watch as you prepare her. I will not allow her be injured further."

I was--

I was here to be sacrificed to the darkness.

I was here to answer to the calls that have been plaguing me for so long, ever since that day my home planet was invaded, ever since everything I knew was reduced to atoms.

I let out a loud yelp when I am splashed with cold water. I let out a breathy curse and the servant who had done it, who had profusely apologized, is suddenly being choked.

It is only now I am cognizant again. It was now that I was aware I am in the bathroom, stripped naked in a tub, and my captor has his servant in a chokehold from across the room. I gasp and cover my bare chest, looking over my shoulder as he hisses, "you could not have made the water warmer? How would you like to be dunked in a pool of ice water?"

My breath hitches, "let her go!"

His voice buzzes behind his helmet as he curls his hand further with his outstretched arm, "she has one task, one simple task, and if she cannot perform it, then she is no use to me."

I panic as I see the servant's eyes water. I jolt when the other servant grabs my shoulder and begins to wash my skin as though nothing was awry. I turn from the servant back to him, "LET HER GO!"

He does nothing.

"LET. HER. GO!"

He seems to be debating my words.

I panic and quip breathlessly, "let her go!"

I sigh in relief when the servant is dropped.

A shiver runs down my spine when he goes at ease by the door. He clutches his hands before him and announces, "thank your empress for her mercy."

Immediately, before she can even catch her breath, the servant responds, "th-ank you, empress." The woman quickly begins to attend to me again.

I am far beyond perturbed.

I don't know what to do with myself, not when I was being bathed by strangers, not when I naked in the tub, not when he was there, watching me.

Why the fuck did that sicko have to watch like a bird in a fucking cage?

Careful, bride.

I stiffen in my place. The servants working on my body halt their work and ask me if their touch was too rough.

Lest you forget I have also been in your dreams. You ought to honor me even in your thoughts, baby bird.

"... my empress?" one servant calls.

"She is fine," he answers for me, "you may proceed."

And then, I'm being dragged out of the tub and patted down in front of a huge mirror. I don't know what to cover, and I can feel him looking. Never mind my naked form in and of itself, but my cuts and bruises from ripping and screaming at the stormtroopers that pried me into their ship. It was loathsome sight to see.

"Must you watch me?" I ask accusingly yet under my breath.

"Yes," he replies, as if it makes anything better, as if it was actually a question, as if he didn't know what I meant with my words. And then he clarifies, as if it helped, "your physical state does not bother me. It does not make you any less than you are, my bride."

My eyes twitch as I am finally handed undergarments to wear. I find my voice again, finally, "that's not the-"

"My pretty bride."

I cease my movements. What the fuck is he saying?

I don't have time to ponder those words as the servants urge me to dress and then quickly begin to fasten me with bandages, namely on my thigh where I had a cut and on my bicep that had a burn.

And though I so badly wanted to whine in protest and dramatic spite, I do my best to contain them. After all, the servants were helping me, they don't need to be Force choked for doing a job they were tasked to accomplish by their malignant master.

The next moment, I was being put into an elaborate garment and then they started painting on my face. Suddenly, I was.... turning into something else. I looked at the mirror and everything was so very real and unimaginable all at once. This was all happening to me. This wasn't a nightmare, not a fever dream, and there was no escape.

And then they told him- my groom- that I was done and I stared at my reflection, unable to recognize myself.

Who in the world were you?

"Come," he says, raising his hand up to me, "we must not delay any further."

I look at his reflection from the mirror. I look at his hand, hid behind his glove, his body, hid behind his cloak, and his face, hid behind his mask. I was going to me wed to this stranger, hidden in darkness?

I stare at him. I clench my jaw. I tell him I'm not going but utter not a single word. I sear it in his brain with my eyes. I scream it, blare it out as loudly as I could.

And yet he only watches me. He watches me with an urging dark hand.

My heart pounds in my ribs. I expect him to begin to lash out at one point, to choke me next, but he doesn't. He stands there, just stands there, reaching out to me.

Was this his twisted way of making me feel like I was willingly going to him? His way of telling me he was the only route in my life now?

My nostrils flare and I gather my skirt. I stare at him as I walk past him. My body was rigid and I had no idea where I was going, but I walked. And then he opened the doors for me.

My hand twitched when he took it, as he was suddenly beside me. I gasp at the unexpected and uninvited touch and I turn to him in surprise, but it is arduous with this ridiculous headpiece on me. His hand is massive and burning hot against my freezing clammy one. He tugs me toward him, "it's this way."

So, we when go this way.

We tread the halls, and I swear I could feel people following after us, more and more each moment, but I couldn't look back, literally, the fucking headpiece was in the way.

And then the atmosphere started to get darker, and it was like it was suddenly so much harder to breathe. It was clear to me we were heading for that large door, and that whatever was behind there was not good. It was not good at all.

He waved his hands once and the doors opened.

There was a great and terrible rush of Force that knocked into me. It was so strong and terrifying, I tighten my grip on my captor, and I cling onto him for safety. My breath is knocked out of my lungs, and all at once I am facing this large entity, this massive body of darkness, the literal flesh form of all my worst nightmares.

I was reeling back in fear. My stomach was in my chest and my heart was in my mouth.

I was in front of him. The Supreme Leader. Snoke.

And he was looking at me, looking right at me with contempt, with impatience, with exasperation.

My feet were stuck on the floor and my fingers were digging into arm of the man by my side. I couldn't do anything but feel my eyes water.

I snap to look my side when my name is called out. I turn to my groom as suddenly he is pacifying me, comforting me even, "the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave."

I don't know how I feel about his words, I don't know how I feel about how he takes my chin in his fingers and makes me turn my body to him. I don't know how I feel when he steadies my stupid headpiece when it knocks onto his shoulder. I don't know how I feel when I follow him mindlessly, when he and I head towards his gargantuan master.

Snoke speaks the moment we are in front of him. His voice rings, it reverberates, in the hall, in my ears, in my thorax, and in the dark corner of my mind that shudders at the recognition, "you have done well, my pupil. Very well."

My eyes lock with Snoke. I evade his stare and abruptly pull away from the man on my right. He stares at me for a moment when I do so, then looks back at Snoke, "thank you, master."

Snoke grumbles, "well, remove that ridiculous thing on your head and let us begin."

I don't know whether it is because I am fearful of the evil-king before me or because I am anticipative of the face of the man behind the mask, but I turn to him with a desperation. I turn to him when he removes his helmet and my breath catches in my throat.

He tucks his helmet under his arm and looks at me with his brown eyes that glistened with something sinister behind them. He parted his lips and I noticed the scar by its side that started by his brow went far past his cheek and collar. His hair was somehow perfectly tousled even after staying inside his face cage for so long. I don't know how I felt after seeing him face to face like this.

I suck in a sharp breath when he takes my hand. He promptly begins to speak.

"I-" he turns to our joined hands as he lifts them chest level, "Kylo Ren," his eyes dart back to me, "take you-"

My skin pricks at how he whispers my name. He says it as if it were a secret, as if he meant it with reverence, as if it was solemn.

"-to be my wife."

My empress.

I suck in a sharp breath at his voice in my head. My breath picks up. My stomach rolls. Get out.

Kylo Ren rubs my knuckles, "To protect you, to honor you, to venerate you until my last breath, or even beyond."

And then he looks at me. He stares at me. He bores into my being and plunges into my soul. I feel my hands begin to shake in his hold.

Kylo Ren looks in silence and I look in fear.

I start at the harsh call of the Supreme Leader to our side, "SPEAK YOUR VOWS, GIRL!"

I screw my eyes shut and gulp. I have to get out of here. Get me out of here! My breath strains now more than ever.

Suddenly, I hear a soft voice in my head. Suddenly, I dare to open my eyes and I see a disconcerting softness in my groom's expression.

Shhhhhhh.

He hushes me in my mind. He repeats his words from earlier.

The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.

I open my mouth and huff helplessly. I repeat my groom's words and tears begin to fall from my eyes.

Snoke leans back in his throne and tents his hands together, "good, good. Then by the power of the darkness, the power vested in me, The Supreme Leader, the ruler of the galaxies and all peoples," he nods his head, "two have now become one."

My shoulders rise and my heart pounds at the explosion of loud exclamations. I look around the hall and only now realize that there were hundreds of individuals, looking down at us from the balconies above.

"Long live the Emperor and Empress!"

I am at a loss for what to do next. I don't know if I want to run away or drop dead. I find myself looking to Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, whose brows slightly furrow in his seriousness. Kylo Ren who looks up to his people and raises his hand that is clutching his helm, inspiring them to cheer even more. Kylo Ren, who then looks down at me and firmly grips my hands before leading me out of the room.

I don't know what happens after that.

I think I'm having a panic attack.

Am I having a panic attack?

Can someone even think if they're having a panic attack?

I'm not having a panic attack.

I'm not having a panic attack.

"Enough," he speaks, turning to me, clutching my cheek. Kylo Ren looks at me with knit brows while his gloved hands make me face him. My neck strains because of the weight of my headpiece. He blinks at me and slips the thing off my head. A weight is lifted off my shoulders. Very suddenly, I think I'd have preferred if he removed my head altogether. He uses his Force to bring the object away. I watch as it floats off to a dresser, beside his helmet that was already there.

All at once, I realize I was in a bedroom. I look back at Kylo in horror. Oh, fuck, I was in a bedroom.

He huffs through his nostrils, "your thoughts are as loud as sirens."

I clutch my skirt tightly and slowly begin to move back.

Kylo watches me. He tilts his head down slightly and narrows his eyes.

I swallow the lump in my throat, "so what?" I shudder, "you're going to force an heir in me now?"

He raises his nose and tilts his head to the side, "it is my duty to sire an heir."

I gulp. My breathing begins to get shorter and shorter.

I start when he steps forward. I put more distance between us.

I shiver when he calls out my name.

"Don't," I point, "don't come any closer."

Kylo Ren offers me the courtesy of stopping in his place.

I catch my breath and watch him as he brings his hands behind him. Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "I have just vowed to protect you, to honor you, and to venerate you." He brings his hands to the clasp of his cloak, "I will not force you to do anything with me that you don't want."

I scoff, tightening my grip on my clothes, "and you think I wanted to marry you?!"

I tense when Kylo unfastens his cloak and folds it in front of him. I freeze in my spot in anticipation of what he's going to do next. He looks at his cloak then looks at me, "you do not understand it now, but you are the key to securing the strength the Sith, securing the Order."

A shiver runs down my spine. How can he say that so plainly?

I cannot comprehend how utterly indoctrinated this ideation is in his being. It is shocking honestly, to see up close and personal that he believes so much in his cause, that he genuinely does not see fault in this, in forcing me to marry him, in taking me by force, in destroying my camp, in laying waste to my people, on wreaking their ill-judgement to the stars.

I shake my head, "do you honestly believe I will eventually come to you with- with open arms?!"

Kylo Ren straightens his posture. I nearly trip when he walks over to me as I attempt to rush back. He raises two fingers and keeps me upright with his Force. He keeps me in place and stands before me. He leans his face close to mine, then barely opens his mouth to speak, "I do."

And then, he releases me and walks away.

I watch him as he exits the room and leaves me. The sound of the door closing is all that's left.

I begin to pant. I begin to heave in anger, in loss, in panic, in desperation. I have to get o-

I slap my hands on my mouth. I screw my eyes shut and shudder.

Silent. I have to be silent.

The next day he asked me to accompany him while he ate.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he said, I should join him, so that we would both grow accustomed to each other's company during such intimate moments, and that we would also get to know each other more.

I scoffed at the idea, so much for not forcing me to do anything I don't want.

"I am not forcing you, wife," Kylo calls across the expanse of the long table.

My eyes that were idly watching my fork swirl the unknown delicacy on my plate dart to him. My shoulders tense as Kylo Ren grabs his glass and drinks from it.

I huff, "do you mind getting out of my head?" I ask though it wasn't really a question, it was a threat, as much of a threat a captive could give.

Kylo sets the object down and taps his finger on it, "if you don't want to join me..." he thinks for a moment, "you don't have to."

I straighten in my seat. I silently look out to him in challenge.

I stiffen when the pitcher begins to float and water is then poured in my cup. I clench my jaw, turning back to Kylo, finding his raised finger.

"I would prefer if you dined with me though," he says, putting the pitched back down.

I turn to my food, idly pushing it around again, "I would prefer if I dined by myself... in my-" our "-room."

I hear him exhale. I hear the contact of his cutlery on his plate, "a disappointing conclusion."

I slowly avert my eyes from my food to him. He is now focused on his own plate. He mumbles, "but I will allow it."

The next day, I am woken to eat breakfast and urged to get out of bed. I explain to servant I was allowed to eat in my room and that I don't want to eat yet. I scoff in disbelief when I am told I am meant to tour the place with the master, with that damned Kylo Ren, and is thus advised to get ready.

And so I did. I got ready and went into the dining room and interrupted his breakfast. If I can't have peace, neither can he.

Kylo turns to me and nods, "wife."

I clench my teeth, "tour me now," I huff, "I'm not hungry, so tour me now."

He turns back to his food and seemingly debates my words for a moment. He then stands from his seat and puts on his helmet, leading me out of the room. If I could burn holes onto his back with my eyes, he'd have been nothing but charcoal.

I suppose I should have given more attention to his tour than I did because knowing the place would surely benefit me when I make my attempt to esc-

"Are you certain you're not hungry?" Kylo Ren asks out of the blue as he leads me down the weapons room, "you're quite snippy and demanding. I would assume that's because you're hungry, baby bird."

I can't help but scoff at his mockery, "or, this is just how I am," I mumble, "so don't act like you know me." I aimlessly look at all the weapons on display, weapons meant to destroy others like me.

But I do know you.

I avert my gaze to him. I stiffen as I glare.

"I have been in your mind and seen the depths of your soul," he mutters, "and I know you're irritable because you're hungry."

And then he conjures up a tin-wrapped object in front of me.

"Here," he gives me the item using his Force, "you can eat this while we walk back to our chambers."

My lips curl in disgust, "is this meant to be enticing?"

He tilts his helmet clad head, "it's meant to be my lunch for later," he grabs the floating object, then my wrist, placing the silver thing on my palm.

I tense in his touch and I am glad he doesn't linger long there. I look at his would-have-been lunch then turn back to him, seeing my scowling reflection on his dumb helmet, "what an honor to know I won't be poisoned since this is apparently yours."

"It is mine," he rebuts rather impatiently.

I roll my eyes and shove it into his chest, "if you want me to be less irritable, let me go back to my chambers." I catch myself when I say this. It sounds like I want to be in that damned cage, instead of outside of this compound. I correct myself, "or better yet, let me go."

Kylo Ren places his lunch in pocket that I didn't know he had, "We will continue this tour tomorrow."

And so we did. This time, he made sure to have someone come to me after I ate.

I must say, perhaps he was partially correct in the fact I was irritable because I was hungry. I did find him more bearable today, as far as forced husbands and captors go. But then again perhaps it was because he was touring me in the biggest library I have ever seen.

I couldn't even feign disinterest as he motioned to each area of the place and explained they were arranged by planet of origin.

I was far too busy craning my neck up to see how high the bookshelves reached that I bump into one. Or at least I thought it was a bookshelf and not fucking Kylo Ren. I jolt when I look at him, firstly because we had a collision, secondly because he magically didn't have his helmet on anymore.

I reel back as he looks down at me, on I think a more figurative sense if anything.

I am immediately uncomfortable under his gaze. I mutter, "sorry."

"You have questions," he mutters. He turns to me and lifts his chin, "ask them."

I evade his stare. Don't tell me what to do.

"I'm not telling you what to do," Kylo Ren retorts after hearing my thought.

I turn back to him. I snort and grumble, "stay out of my head."

He looks up at the shelves and then looks down at me with his eyes, "a hundred layers."

I pull my head back and scoff in disbelief, "the shelves have a hundred layers?" I look over my shoulder haphazardly, "seems unnecessary hard to manage."

"Well," he brings his head down, "it hosts knowledge from peoples across over the stars. It must be capable of securing the vastness."

When I look back at him, I tense when I see he has come far too close to me. It would have been wise to pull away, perhaps to even shove him off to get my point across, but somehow, I find his proximity as a challenge. I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes at him, "undoubtedly stolen, plucked from the rubble of your destruction."

A chill rushes up my spine when he smirks at me. It remains lopsided and smug as he whispers "I don't feel the need to preserve artifacts from a race that is unable to see the glory of my purpose."

That's it. I begin to slowly step away from him.

"Do you want to know how these shelves are managed?"

"No, I really-"

I make a sound when he grabs me and locks me against his chest. Before I can even begin to fight back, I find my feet get lifted off the ground along with him. Next thing I know, I'm gasping and clinging onto him for dear life.

"Put me down," I gasp against his chest as I seal my arm tightly against him.

He chuckles as we continue to float up. He tightens his grip on me as I feel myself begin to slip. He flexes his feet and pushes them beneath mine. I look up at him as I step on his boots.

"This is how you manage them," he iterated, then motioning to his side, "or you use the ladder."

I scoff in disbelief, grabbing onto his collar, "put me down, Kylo."

He blinks at me, lips curing into a bigger smile, "alright."

He slowly bringing me down and I tense when he clutches my waist and speaks out my name.

I look away from him and watch as the floor nears. By the time it was close enough, I jump off him and walk away.

Kylo Ren watches and chuckles, "the exit is the other, baby bird."

I stop in my tracks and glare at him. He does not waste time and walks up to me. My breath hitches when he does, reeling over the look on his face. He moves past me and walks away.

I watch him as he does so, and then an idea strikes me. I debate my chances on living here and convincing the servants to get me food... a bucket-

"Don't be ridiculous. I will throw you over my shoulder if you will not follow," Kylo Ren announces. He stops in his tracks and looks over to me, "you are my empress, not my captive, even though you feel that way."

I watch him as he raises his hand to me, reaching out to me again like on the day of our wedding, except this time, I could see his eyes and is pouty lips. I huff through my nostrils and grip my fists. I walk over to him glaring at him all the way until I move past him.

Kylo watches, a glint in his eye as he does.

I hear him chuckle.

The next day, I woke up, realizing I was allowed to sleep in. That got me tremendously excited, and so I quickly began to ready myself to begin my attempts at an esca-

I slap my hand on my mouth and release a deep breath from my nostrils.

I take a few more moments and ready to exit my chambers.

The moment I'm about to exit though, I am faced with a servant. I tense at the sight of her but offer her a pinched smile, "Rezba."

Rezba nods and walks in with a tray of food, "please eat before you leave. I will be scolded if I am found to failed to feed you."

Dammit, Rezba.

I sigh, turning to my feet. I watch the woman as she walks off and sets the table. She was one of the servants that helped prepare me on my... wedding day, the one that didn't get choked. As for the one that was, I have not seen or heard from her ever since.

My conscience presses on me every time I think of this. I sigh, walking over to her. I sit down on the chair by the table and smile, "thank you, Rezba. You can go now."

Rezba nods, "as you wish, empress."

I wipe my face as he walked away. I quickly stuff my face with the food. I mean, after all, if I manage what I do, I'll need all the food I can get.

The moment I was done, I exit my chambers and head outside with purpose. I nod at the personnel that greet me and make sure to keep my mask of confidence as I make it to the launch pad.

I practically beam when I see a ship ready for the picking. But then I feel a force surge through me.

"Fuck."

My bride.

I turn over my shoulder in horror. Lo behold, the dark mask of my groom, strutting over to me with troops behind him.

"Come to visit me?" he muffles out behind his helmet.

I clench my jaw and turn to him, doing my best not to roll my eyes.

Somehow, I can see his smirk underneath as he speaks, "you didn't even change out of your nightclothes."

I let out a strangled sound as I turn to the two people behind Kylo. One had red hair and one was as clad in uniform as the Supreme Lord.

"This is General Hux and Captain Phasma," Kylo motions to the two of them.

I hum, "yes... hello," I smile without meeting my eyes, "well, now that I've... seen my husband, I'm... I'm going back to my chambers."

The two behind Kylo nod at me. I try not be so annoyed as I walk away.

Next time you plan to escape, you should probably change into something that would protect you from the harshness of space.

I grit my teeth and snap over my shoulder, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"

General Hux recoils at my voice. Kylo Ren chuckles under his breath.

The next day, I have no such luck of escaping at all.

"Don't you have some-" I quip over my shoulder as Kylo tails me like the dark shadow he was, "-I don't know... planet to blow up," my voice gets increasingly smaller as I say this and hear myself.

Kylo Ren, in one of the rare occurrences he did not have his helmet on, stops to look at me. He presses his lips together, "do you have a pla-"

"No!" I raise hands, "forget that I said that... please."

I turn away from him and begin to tread deeper into the halls of the library.

I hear him snort behind me, "I don't want you to continue to delude yourself into thinking escaping is an option. It would just be a waste of both our time if you do so."

I roll my eyes and shake my head, "and I don't want to delude you in thinking that I would ever stop trying to escape you."

I actually stop in my tracks when I hear him laugh out loud. I turn over to him in great offence as he then turns to me with bright eyes.

I seethe with venom, "I'm glad one of us finds this funny."

He straightens himself up and crosses his arms, "it's funny how you fail to see how alike we are."

My face drops in horror. I march over to him and point a finger at him, "we are nothing alike!"

I jolt when he grabs my wrist and pushes my hand down. The amusement in his face falters and shifts into something else, "aren't we, my empress?"

My heart begins to pound. I pull away from him and recoil.

My breathing begins to pick up as I rub my wrist.

Kylo watches me and makes up for the space between us by walking forward, "did that hurt you?"

"Does it matter if it did?" I quip.

His face softens yet his brows tighten, "it does."

I scoff.

"I am not the monster you make me out to be."

I scoff again as I continue to walk back, "oh yeah, then what ar-" I gasp when I hit something. I panic and turn, seeing it was the step ladder. I have no choice but to halt as Kylo presses nearer. I swallow the lump on my throat as I look at his face.

I will myself not to be so affected by his presence.

I clench my jaw.

My willpower is not very effective.

"I am your husband," he mutters.

I freeze when he brings his hands to my side, though he does not touch me. His eyes dart to my hands that I clutch to my chest. He releases a breath, "I want to bring order to the galaxy."

A shiver runs down my spine, "Kylo..."

His eyes lock on mine. I even my breathing.

I shake my head and knit my brows, "do you genuinely think," I speak softly with no hint of malice, "that killing billions is order?"

His jaw tightens. He drops his hands to his side, "it is an necessary stake for the greater good-"

"Greater good?!" I quip under my breath, grabbing onto his cheeks. I look at him with wide eyes as he looks at me with a similar shocked expression, "you believe razing through the stars is the greater good?"

My whole body pricks when he takes my wrists in his hands and whispers, "my love."

I suck in a sharp breath.

"You do not understand it now," he explains, shaking his head, "but everything that I am, everything that I do," his voice becomes really quiet, "is for us."

My expression drops where his softens.

"For our future," he whispers, "for our next generation and after."

"Kylo-"

"I do it because I believe in our cause," he cuts me off, "I do it because without us, the galaxy will never know anything but chaos."

My breath begins to strain.

He releases one wrist and reaches out for my face, "I will do all it takes, and give you all the time to understand this."

Mu face burns at the feel of his gloved hand. I shake my head, "why?"

"Because you are my star, my burning destiny," he mutters, "the Force brought you to me. I felt you that day on your home planet, you were so strong, you were so strong and so misguided. I tried to kill you that day, but you got away."

My eyes begin to water. I begin to relive that day in my head.

"Then I dreamt about you, I dreamt about how you escaped me and how I hated that you did. Snoke saw it. He saw you in my head. He saw your drive. He saw your weakness. He saw what you could become. And then, he said I burned because you were meant to be mine. He said our Forces were calling for each other, which was why I could not stop dreaming about you."

I begin to tremble against him.

He clutches my face with both hands, "don't be afraid. It took me a while to understand it as well, but-"

"Kylo-" I shudder, "you don't dream of me because I'm your bride, you dream of me because of him!"

He stills.

"Don't you see?" I pant, "he's manipulating you. The dark side is mani-"

"If anyone has been manipulated, it is you, baby bird," he grunts, "you were indoctrinated with beliefs that are short sighted and weak. I would not-"

He doesn't finish and turns his head to the side when a voice of a stormtrooper buzzes through the hall, "apologies for the interruption, my lord. I was tasked to escort you to the throne room, the Supreme Leader is summoning you."

Kylo Ren turns to face him. I suck in a breath as suddenly, he grabs my hand and pulls me with him as we walk past the stormtrooper, "an escort won't be necessary."

If I wasn't shaking a while ago, I surely was now, and Kylo Ren could feel it. Kylo stole looks over his shoulder. I did nothing but try to even my breath as we tread the hall.

I could feel him holding onto me with his Force, trying to contain me almost... trying to comfort me.

I tense when he releases my hand in lieu of draping his arm over my shoulder, "he will not touch you. He will not harm you," he mutters as I look up at him. He stares straight as we continue walking, "I will make it a point to keep this brief. You have nothing to worry about."

I wanted his words to comfort me, I wanted him to be able to comfort me so badly. And yet when I was face to face with his master, I couldn't even muster the courage to put my faux brave face on. He pulled away from me and pushed me behind him as he greeted the being.

"Why do you continue to disappoint me so, Kylo Ren?" Snoke inquires with a voice of disdain.

This had something to do about me, I am sure of it.

"I am doing everything you asked me," Kylo retorts rather simply.

"And I gave you a bride, yet still you have no efforts for an heir!" he accuses, "must I teach you even in the ways of the flesh, boy?!"

Kylo clenches his fist, he mumbles, "no."

"THEN DO YOUR DUTY!"

"I am making sure everything is perfect for her. She cannot bear me and heir if she is damaged or scared," Kylo retorts.

Snoke tilts his head, "and are you trying to say that has something to do with me?"

"I am SAYING-" Kylo Ren starts, raising his voice as he did. In my shock, I pull back at his cloak, not wanting to feel the wrath of his master. Not now, not ever, especially not in my dreams, not again.

Kylo holds himself back. He huffs, "I will do my duties as her husband. This isn't something for you to meddle with."

"Meddle?" Snoke scoffs but then laughs. He, in fact, laughs so hard, it echoes in the room. He catches his breath then sighs, "Fine." Snoke raises a finger and suddenly, Kylo's boots skid on the floor as he is moved away to reveal me from behind him.

I turn to Snoke, feeling my heart quicken in my ribcage.

Kylo steps back in front of me. I take his arm and hold onto it for dear life.

Snoke stares at his protégé. He tilts his head, "I expect this to change, soon. Her belly should never not be carrying an heir."

Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.

Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.

Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.

"Enough!" Kylo snaps me out of my trance. I turn to him, eyes wide, body trembling. We weren't in the throne room any more, we were in our chambers, soaked in dark retreat of it all. I had no idea when we got here. All I know was I was here with Kylo, who was clutching my face so tightly. He looks at me with something of annoyance, something of concern, "don't think about him anymore, think about me. Just think about me."

I shake my head in sheer disbelief. I push his hands away, "is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Kylo straightens.

"You," I start, "want me here for the same reason he does!"

His expression hardens.

"You and him had plagued me with nightmares for as long as I can remember," I shake my head, "the only reason, I think, I don't have them anymore is because I actually get to live my nightmares out in real life."

"So?" he quips, "what do you mean to say?"

I bite my lip, "just-" I feel my eyes water, "take what you want and... and-"

I hold my breath when Kylo grabs my chin and tilts my head up to look at him. He brings his face close to mine. His nose is barely brushing my own. I feel his hot breath on my face as he enunciates one word, "want."

I blink rapidly at the sound of his voice.

"Shhh," he hushes, "if it's Snoke you worry about, don't. I have been planning something for him, long before you even came to me. He is the least of your worries," he explains. "But do you know what I want, bride?" he asks, as though to taunt me.

I shudder. I think of replying, but I don't.

"I know what you want," he mutters. He begins to move forward, and so I have no choice but to move back as he pushes me in the direction he wants, "you want to run away from me, baby bird. You think you can break free."

His hand only leaves my chin when my calves hit the foot of the bed and I fall back, heart hammering, breath clawing at my throat. He drones, "but what I want?"

Kylo Ren undoes his gloves and undoes his belt as he towers over me.

I want to strangle your light. I want to break you so badly. I want to fucking burn you from the inside until you can only hear yourself screaming from how good it feels to finally have your wet, little c-

I slap my hands to my mouth I hear the thoughts running through his head.

Kylo stills. He tilts his head then chuckles, "so... you heard that?"

I sigh deeply, attempting to even my breath as I back away from him. I squeak when he lunges and traps me beneath him. He crushes me against his chest and pins my wrists by my head. I turn away from him as he whispers hotly against my ear, "it would be so easy to have you like this, right?"

My screw my eyes shut. Tears lace my lashes.

"You won't even fight me off, you couldn't."

I shudder when he releases one of my wrists and brings his free hand down to my thighs. I feel my body burn and tingle at his slow caress.

He kisses my jaw and my skin there is set ablaze, "you don't want to fight me off," he chuckles, "you could at least do something with your hand to save face."

When I finally remember where my free hand is, Kylo takes it back in his and lifts his head, "too late." He pushes himself up, "look at me."

I clench my jaw.

"You'll know never to make me ask for the same thing twice."

I give a shallow huff and open my eyes, looking up at him.

"I want you to beg me," he whispers, "I want you to be so desperate to finally," he begins to further pull away, "finally, take you," he knits his brows, "to make you my wife that you get on your knees and weep for it."

A shiver runs down my spine as I watch him get up from the bed and grab his gloves, "until then," he reaches his hand out and uses his Force to cover me with the sheets, "you belong to yourself."

He haunts me in my dreams that night. Not as a figure of darkness, not as a ghost, but as a man, as starving entity, ready to consume me, eager to take me.

He haunts me every night after. And every night his intentions are made clearer and clearer until I wake up and think he and I wake up and I'm shocked he's not actually there.

It became hard to look at him, especially when my stomach began to flip and my thighs involuntarily pressed together. I was turning sick.

And then one day, the news spreads like wildfire. Snoke is dead, Kylo Ren is the Supreme Leader, and I, his Supreme Empress.

It was weird. I was called Empress before and he was called Emperor before, but now, now it was real. Now I was parading with Kylo Ren in the capital, looking at citizens waving at us and throwing flowers our way. And then I was shaking strangers' hands and Kylo snarled at whomever dared embrace me a second too long.

But what really cemented our reign and the realness of it all, was when someone tried to attack me. Kylo felt the assailant before he got too close though and choked him dead in the middle of the crowd. I watched as the man's weapon fell to the ground, as he withered in pain, as he eventually stopped moving. He suffered. I knew Kylo wanted him to. The festivities were long over after that, and I was then I was reminded of who he truly was.

He was a brute. A beast. The shadow in my mind. He was-

I turn over my left as a blanket is draped over my shoulder. Kylo Ren sits beside me on the bed and offers me glass of water, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

I huff at the sound of his apology. I wrap my blanket tighter on me.

He sighs and brings the glass to the table using his Force, "I would do it again, though. You should know. I would not hesitate even a second."

I curl my legs up into my chest, "am I supposed to be grateful?"

"I would prefer if you were," he mutters.

"Kylo..."

I suck in a breath when he says his name.

"I'm- I'm too tired to argue. I want to go to sleep," I mutter, moving on the bed until I was laid down. Kylo watches me as I do this, then stands.

"Wait," I call out, surprising even myself.

Kylo stills.

No turning back now. "I... I don't want to be alone... not after that... even though you did it."

Kylo waits.

He debates my words.

I hide behind my blanket, "nevermi-"

The next thing I know, I feel him move next to me. And there, he lies.

I feel him next to me. We're under the same blanket. I feel myself begin to grow warm.

"I can get a separate blanket if you're so uncomfortable."

"Get out of my fucking thoughts."

"... ... I don't want to."

I grunt and wrap myself tightly under the blanket, surely yanking however much was on Kylo off.

"Your mind is an oasis to me."

I say nothing.

"My mind is a dessert, you are my oasis."

I huff through the sheets, "don't talk to me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like that!"

"I'm telling you what-"

"I'm done with this conversation."

I close my eyes and tighten my embrace on myself. I release a breath and try to clear my mind.

"Are you that cold?" Kylo murmers

"I'm not cold."

"I know."

"Then why did you ask?" I quip turning to him.

I freeze when I do so, instantly regretting my decision. He was lying on his side, looking at me, his face was right in front of mine and his arms were wrapped around himself. He blinks slowly as he looks at me, "I know you want to be held."

I huff through my slightly agape mouth, then I clench my jaw tightly. I move back from him cautiously, retreating into my covers, into myself.

"I can hold you," he mutters softly.

I turn away from him, feeling my body ignite.

"I want to hold you," he whispers even softer. Let me hold you.

Shut up, get out of my head.

He takes a moment before speaking again. He releases a breath, "am I that terrifying to you, baby bird?"

Yes.

"Then why do you mutter my name while you sleep?"

I tighten my arms around myself. Stop trying to get into my head.

"I'm already in your head," he retorts, voice closer now, "and in your heart."

"Shut up," I whimper.

I hear high-pitched laugh in my head. His voice surrounds me through the Force. It makes my skin raise. I'm only telling you the truth.

"Face me," he mutters, "coward."

I scoff. I heave, feeling my insides curdle. I clench my jaw then hiss, "at least I'm not a killer with no remorse."

He laughs, "you're making it seem like I should have let him attack you."

"You didn't have to kill him!" I snap, turning back to him, pushing myself up on my palms, "you could have given him a prison sentence."

"For what?!" he barks back, unravelling his crossed arms, lifting face up slightly, "so he could plan to attack you again, but next time when I'm not around to defend you?!"

"He only wanted to attack me because I'm married to you!" I hiss, sitting up from my spot.

Kylo sits up too and shakes his head, "he wanted to attack you because he thinks you're my weakness."

"Because I am your weakness!" I quip, "I'm your docile bride!"

He scoffs, grabbing my jaw, "you made yourself into this, little girl," he leans towards me. My pulse quickens as he pushes my head back, hand coming to the side of my face, fingers digging into my hair, "you where the rebel that fought against my troops and managed to escape me. The Force is strong with you," he places his other hand on the other side of my face, "that is why you are my bride."

When Kylo Ren pulls away and lies down, my insides begin to burn, to fume, and rage at his words. I watch him and I slowly begin to see red. And yet, he closes his eyes and acts like this whole conversation didn't happen. He prepares to sleep like there's nothing wrong.

This is my final straw.

I lunge at him. I dart my claws out and growl. I jump on him and press down on his throat. I straddle him and lean all my weight all my strength onto his airways. His eyes shoot open. His hands dart to my wrists. He begins to choke. I put all my anger into my grip. I force against him, knowing full well if I lost the upper hand, I'd be dead.

Except he doesn't make an move beyond clutching my wrists. I wait for him to attempt to overpower me, I wait for him to throw me off him the way I knew he could, and end all of this, and, in turn, kill me instead, but he doesn't.

He doesn't fight back.

Instead he looks up at me as his air leaves him as his face begin to turn maroon, as his veins begin to stress, as his final breaths escape his lips. And then I realize what I was doing and I pull back.

I pull back and heave in horror, wrists breaking free of his hold, hovering by my chest as I looked down at him while he caught his breath. He closes his eyes as his palms land on my thighs. My eyes water, the same way tears laced his lashes.

Why didn't he fight back?

Why isn't he fighting back?

He wanted me to kill him?

He wanted me to kill him?

I watch as his chest rises and falls beneath me. I am then suddenly aware of our position. I feel a tinge burn in my cheeks and my core. It's inexplicable, whether I am embarrassed over the fact I tried to kill him or the fact I was straddling him beneath me.

Before I can get off him though, he finally overpowers me and traps me beneath him. Easily. Swiftly. I was nothing against him. And this fact was amplified as he pins my wrists down on the pillows overhead with just one hand. He presses himself against me, heaving heavily, as if he was doing something with great restraint. It makes my stomach drop.

"That's the difference between you and I," he pants, as his one hand comes up to my neck, "if I wanted you dead, my love..." he begins to press down on my throat.

I begin to panic and thrash beneath him.

Shhhhhh.

He steadies me still in his place. I am overcome by him, unsure if it was just his physical prowess or if he was using his Force as he pushes down on me. I get a semblance of an answer when the pressure on my throat remains and I unable to move my wrists though both his hands go to the sides of my thighs.

I gulp as he leaves hot kisses all over my skin. I huff sharply when I am released of my Force bounds. My hands dart to his torso, gripping at his clothes as I try to push him away.

I would never damage you.

I let out a sound when he releases his chokehold.

Not unless you want me to.

Kylo then begins to bring his face close to mine, pressing our cheeks together for a moment. My stomach rolls and my breath hitches when his hot lips meet my mine. My heart is racing. He undoubtedly could feel it against him.

My panic rises. I quickly manage in between kisses, "Kylo-"

"Beg me," he pulls away and breathes against my ear, "beg me..." he kisses the pulse on my neck, "to get off you-- to leave you alone, to shoot myself into the sun-"

Kylo begins to rub himself between my open legs. Slowly. Roughly. I whimper. He freezes. I feel blood rise up my face. I begin to push him back harder.

He tightens his hold on me, repelling my actions by pressing his weight further onto me, "beg me to finally make you live out your fantasies," his voice loudens, "to make you mine."

I grit my teeth tightly.

"Beg me," he groans, "beg."

I whine, nails digging into his sides as I push against him.

He kisses my jaw, hands leaving my thighs, grabbing my wrists, pushing them down on my sides, "use your words. Hark to me, my baby bird."

My breath hitches, "Kylo, please."

Kylo pulls his face back, nose just above mine, looking down at me with hooded eyes. He waits for me to continue, breath straining as he did. My lips part and my feel my pulse echo in every inch of my body.

I gulp and ready to speak... but I can't. I don't. My mouth goes dry and all I could think about was how his dark locks were framing his face, and how his lips were moving as he heaved arduously, and how I wanted to find where the scar on his face ended.

Then I am ripped out of my incredulous thoughts.

"Please what?" his breath his hot against my face as he coaxes.

I close my lips and catch my breath that was leaving me, "please... stop."

"Stop what, darling?" he utters. I close my eyes when he leans his forehead against mine. He releases my wrists, hands coming to my sides, nails scratching down me until his large hands ended up on my thighs again. I squeak when his hips buck into mine with more intent.

My hands come to Kylo's neck, fingers digging into the roots of his hair.

He shifts atop me, pulling his head back up, weight all on my core, making me moan at the pressure. His nose brushes against mine. He breathes out my name. My eyes shoot open because of it.

I find his eyes are screwed shut, a line between his brows. His jaw clenches. His nostrils flare as he steadies his breathing.

"Kylo-"

"Yes," he speaks before I even finish saying his name.

His eyelids slowly part when I tug his face towards me, legs tightening around his waist, crossing over his back. He lets out a huff that bounces from my face to his. His hands rub down to my butt and there his grip tightens.

Right when our lips brush against each other, he lifts his head ever so slightly and whispers, "beg me to make you mine."

My throat tightens.

"I need to hear it," his voice is soft.

I suck in a breath and call out his name.

He releases a sharp one as he says mine.

I call out his name.

He responds with mine.

I hesitate.

He rubs his nose against mine then says quietly, "make me yours please."

I suck in a breath. My stomach explodes with butterflies. "Make... me yours," I mumble, relaxing against him, hands rubbing down his neck to his shoulders. I close my eyes and sigh, "please."

He nods, "louder."

"Kylo-"

"Louder," he mutters with a tight breath, "one last time."

"Make me yours, please."

Kylo hisses then connects his lips to mine. He moans, amplifying the hungriness of the kiss. His hands are quick and desperate as they grip at my clothing. He pushes off me and begins to strip me of all the hindrances on my being

I whimper as he eagerly does his work. One by one, he rips my clothes off. He does so with such impatience, I hear the tears and the strains of my clothes.

He sits me down as he removes each piece off me until I'm left in my panties. I wrap my arms around my bare chest. Kylo leans in, hands rubbing my bare thighs. My skin pricks because of the contact. He mutters, "your turn, my dear."

He kisses me as he grabs my hands. He pries them off my chest and ends our kiss, placing my palms at the hem of his top. He lifts his hands, eyes not leaving mine, wordlessly urging me to strip him.

I shift on my knees and pull his top off, discarding it along with the rest of my clothing that he threw on the floor. My hands instinctively come to his pants, fiddling the belt on his waist band.

He gets on his knees and grabs my face. He pulls me in for a kiss, moving closer until I'm pressed against the headboard. He guides my hands as they push his pants down.

We keep kissing until he breaks away to strip all together. I don't have time to react cause when he does, he pushes me down using his Force, and brings my legs together as to rid me of the last thing keeping me modest. I screw my eyes shut as he snatches my underwear.

Before I could feel too conscious about being naked in front of the man that was my husband, about to consummate our marriage, I let out a shaky sound as my legs are grabbed and pushed apart.

I suck in a breath as my arms fly again to my chest. They only stay there for a moment. Even that, Kylo pulls apart as he presses against me. He presses my arms down on the pillows by the sides of my head.

I am unable to conceal my cries at the feel of his hot body pressing against mine. I feel his taut stomach press against my core. It drew out another sound I could not keep in. I feel my pulse against him. I feel my wetness smear on his skin. His hands leave my arms to grab onto my thighs.

When I finally dared to open my eyes, I caught the moment Kylo sank his head onto my chest and began to suckle at the skin on my sternum.

I whimper then I bite my lip tightly. Kylo looks up at me as he takes my left breast and nips at it. He begins to rub against me.

I fist his hair into my hands. I press my head back against the pillows. Kylo's hands travel to my hipbones and digs in his fingers into me. He releases my breast and checks on his work, appreciating the mark he left of my skin before continuing to attend to my breast with his mouth.

I tighten my legs around his waist as he continues to grind down on me. I feel my heart racket behind my ribs as Kylo moves to my other breast.

"Kylo," I whimper, as my nails dig into his scalp.

He moans and releases my flesh, whispering hotly against my skin, "yes, my empress?"

I exhale through my open mouth and look at him with a dazed expression. I clutch his cheeks, "I want you-- need you-" I sigh.

Kylo lifts his body slightly, one hand releasing my hip. "To what?" he murmurs, "-need to hear you say it."

His fingers roughly draw a line from my side to my core. I gasp when he touches my aching nub. I lift my head, looking out at his hand as he looks down on me. His two digits dote on the wet heat between my legs. He slowly rubs circles on my flesh, teasing my entrance.

He holds my hips in place as a squirm beneath him. Then his hands hook by the curve of my thigh and pushes one leg up to my chest. He leans in and says, "need to what, my bride?"

I whine as my hands brush down to his shoulders. I claw at him, pulling him closer to me, "need to..." whimper, "to be made yours."

He exhales loudly. He heaves heavily as he sinks two fingers into my sopping core, slowly and firmly rubbing into me, stretching my flesh deliciously. I whine like a wraith.

"You have no idea how long I've imagined touching you like this," he admits as he toys my entrance with his fingers.

"Kylo."

He pulls his hand away and grabs my other thigh, pushing it up by my ribs.

I look at him as he brings his face close and lifts his hips. He digs his fingers into the bend of my knees and my toes curl when I feel him press against me, hard and pulsing.

I lick my lips and break into a whine when he slowly sheathes himself into me, releasing a hot breath by the crown of my head as he did so.

I whimper at the feel of him sinking in all the way. I tighten my legs around him and reach out to the sheets by my sides and rip at them.

Kylo slowly begins to rock into me, groaning as he does so, "so warm, wet and soft," he grabs my hands and places it on his back, "so soft and-" he licks my skin and bites down.

I choke on my breath as he does this. His pace thrusts hasten. He hands grab my knees and push them into my chest, "mine. All mine."

He lifts himself up and ruts into me with vigor.

Soon enough I feel my mind blur while my voice lets out incoherences at the snapping of Kylo's hips.

I claw at his back with little regard for how much it may hurt him.

Kylo howls in response, quickening his pace even more, adjusting his hold on me until his position was perfect and my head was knocking slightly into the board.

"Fill you up with me," he grunts, "fill you until you're a mess, mark you until you're tender, repeat until you're sore."

I don't respond. I don't know what to. I don't have much of a brain to speak anything anyway.

Kylo thrusts into me at such a strong and steady pace, it's not long until I feel a flurry in my stomach and a tingle in my chest.

I whine out his name. I pull him into me. He leans in and huffs against my cheek, "feels good, right? I can make you feel good."

I catch his lips into my teeth. He rip away only to kiss me as he breaks me.

We pull away to breathe yet Kylo does lose his tempo. I feel my eyes water and my mouth dry over my continuous jaw dropped cries.

"Just want to make you feel good," he whispers heavily, "want to make you mine."

"Feel so good," I mindlessly mutter, "so - Kylo."

In that next moment, I feel my insides shatter around him. I let out a loud cry of relief. My fingers curl into his back as I tighten and convulse around him. My toes curl as I lock my legs around him. Instantaneously, I feel a sharp heat splatter into me and it magnifies my delirium.

I hear him curse and whine against my ear. I feel him tighten his hold on me as he continues the work with his hips, still as quick as before.

And as I ride out my high and tighten around him, only then does Kylo's actions find some irregularity. My head no longer hits the board, though my body very much still moves up and down with Kylo's movements.

As the final ripples of my pleasure calm down, so does the knocking of our hips.

When he is satisfied, he releases my hips and grabs my face. He kisses me and catches his breath in between.

"Do you want me to get off you?" he asks.

I quickly shake my head in disagreement and wrap my arms around him.

"Good," he rests his head beside mine and slowly relaxes on top of me. He sighs and brushes his nose against my head, "I want to stay in you forever."

I bite my lip and lean my face into his.

"I will write your name in the stars," he whispers, "I will give you everything in the galaxy. All you have to do is be mine."

I gulp and sigh heavily, yet I internally find myself agreeing.

His hand rubs my side, "I hope you don't get pregnant too quickly," he kisses my head, "there's so much I have to do with you first."

[yizhou-time]

(46) ATEEZ FIC RECS

🍓 fluff | 🌀 angst | 💥 nsfw | 🎧 personal favourite

if any links don’t work or the wrong writers have been tagged please let me know!

ATEEZ/MULTIPLE

Want You Back | @whimsicalwritingsandmore 🍓🌀

opposites attract w/ matz | @beenbaanbuun 🍓💥🎧

↳ are you ready to get so hooked on something you’ll read every story connected to it and simply sit there waiting for series updates?

Addams!ATEEZ | @fruithoughts 🍓💥

HONGJOONG

Less Than Three | @kbandtrash 🍓

Runaway | @lilacmingi 🍓🌀

To Make An Album | @bambikisss 🍓💥

Never Alone | @iwannasuckyourmonstercock 🌀

Hopefully | @idyllic-ghost 🍓

↳ my hongjoong roman empire and it’s just made up leave me alone

SEONGHWA

The Way to His Heart | @edenesth 🍓🌀🎧

↳ again not a series reader in the slightest but this one is so well done you never know what’s happening next and then you get grown through a loop in the best way possible

let’s not fall in love, again | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ HOW THE AUTHOR CAME UP WITH THIS IS BEYOND ME BUT I REREAD THIS ALL THE TIME I LOVE IT I CANT DESCRIBE HOW MUCH I LOVE IT JUST PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE READ IT

no title | @mymoodwriting 🍓🌀💥

bodyguard | @baekhvuns 🍓🌀💥

↳ this became my personality for a solid month after its release

cat named mars | @hwaightme 🍓

checkmate | @atinystraynstay 🍓🌀

the lamb and the wolf | @seonghwaddict 🍓💥

YUNHO

Guerilla | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀💥

opposites attract | @tainsan 🍓🌀💥

↳ another one that became my personality for a solid month after release

what builds a home | @cosmicdumpling 🍓💥 (only a little!)

PILLAGED | @lilacmingi 🍓 (a little 🌀)

something to give each other | @sungbeam 🍓🎧

↳ read this at 5:34am and it changed my life i’m not kidding

Promise | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓💥 (only a little!)

↳ did my life just change? yes! this authors fics always change my life but this was something else!

entombed | @ghstzzn 💥 (and kinda 🍓) 🎧

YEOSANG

no title | @ateezmakemeweep 🍓🌀

RETURN TO ME | @thewonandonly 🌀💥🎧

↳ this is the the best yeosang fic on this app like i can’t explain any of it like this is one i strongly suggest you read (this is a threat, read the goddamn fic) and that fucking ending i’m literally i can’t it takes everything in me to not spoil it every time i recommend it but i’m telling you you have to read this you know that feeling you get when your heart wrenches and you physically feel it? you get that the whole time with this

for the hope of it all | @starrysvn 🌀🎧

↳ not gonna lie thought about killing myself after reading this 😭😭😭 /j

SAN

The Art of Climbing the Corporate Ladder | @ennysbookstore 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ another one i can’t explain you have to read this for yourself because you think you know and then no you fucking don’t and then you get really mad and then really sad and then you’re like oh no and then y/n saves it and then san says stuff JUST READ IT

Ceilings [PART 2] | @yoongiseesawmp3 🍓🌀💥

↳ FINALLY THIS GODDAMN TROPE DONE RIGHT LIKE GAG EM THANK YOU GUYS THIS IS SUCH A GOOD READ AND IT DOESNT MOVE FAST LIKE THE OTHER FICS THAT DO THIS TROPE PLEASE

seasons out of time | @nonclassyparty 🍓🌀💥🎧🎧🎧

↳ this is the most soul crushing, heart wrenching, bone shattering piece of media you will ever read like i can’t genuinely put into words how much this fic means to me on like a level like i can’t even describe it help it is one of those fics thag you have to read for yourself and you’ll understand because just when your hopes are up theyre down when they’re down they’re up again in some strange way part two is in the works so i’m preparing for my heart to get stamped on by the author and part 1 is like for me genuinely the absolute best fics on this app so I can’t wait

Reassuring Words and Mellow Touches | @hongjoongsart 🍓🌀

↳ you know when you like feel smth in your gut and you don’t know what, this is what this does to you I swear

a broken routine | @vampzity 🍓🍓🍓🍓🎧

MINGI

Goodbye Summer | @shocymer 🌀🌀🌀

↳ i did cry when i finished this

nightmare, daydream | @mingigoo 🍓💥

One New Message | @hwaightme 🌀

Home | @lovepookie 🍓🍓🍓

WOOYOUNG

Home for the Holidays | @highvern 🍓🌀💥

Say You Love Me Too | @crazyformfics 🍓

change of heart | @hotteoki 🍓

place in me | @starrysvn 🍓🌀🎧

↳ this is my wooyoung roman empire and it didn’t even happen irl

If Without You | @sorryimananti-romantic 🍓🌀

JONGHO

so lovely | @deathbyyeekies 🍓🍓🍓🍓 🎧🎧🎧

↳ i kid you not reading this changed my life like genuinely i’m a changed person now

killin me softly | @deathbyyeekies 🍓

glasses w/ jongho | @beenbaanbuun 🍓

zemblanity | @in-san-ity 🍓🌀💥🎧

↳ it’s so nice watching tropes finally being done right like you don’t even understand how badly i needed this

20:15pm | @xuchiya 🍓

the fear still lingers | @03jyh23 🌀🌀🌀🌀🎧🎧🎧

↳ TOOK EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO THROW MYSELF OFF A BRIDGE AFTER READING THIS IF YOU’RE WANTING FUCKING INCREDIBLE ANGST READ THIS SHIT AND YOU’LL PHYSICALLY FEEL YOUR HEARTBREAK LIKE MINE DID

[gavisimmaculaterizz]

bb can u write something like jude coming home from practice and being angry, mad or something, and just storming off in his room, and later on (female) reader falls asleep on the couch teary eyed bcz she doesn't know what she did wrong

— bother / jude bellingham.

summary: jude cant hold in his anger from losing his match, resulting in a distant jude.

warnings: a bit of angst ??

masterlist

as the final whistle blew, distant whistles and boos came from the santiago bernabéu. the night in madrid was cold, the huge loss of the white giants filled the madrid air with coldness. as fans exited the stadium, jude proceeded to go to the locker room furious. he couldn’t help but feel anger, not being able to help his team out with at least scoring a goal. he disappointed the fans, maybe even his girlfriend. he mentally cursed himself out for not showing his potential, preparing for the hate he’d get on twitter by fellow madridistas.

meanwhile at the comfort of your shared apartment, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of sadness watching your boyfriends team lose heavily. you turned off the television, feeling sadness wash over you, over the terrible result in the bernabéu that just happened moments ago. you hated seeing your boyfriend sad, knowing these type of losses affected him heavily.

a couple hours later, the noise of bags falling echoed around the silent home. you ran to jude, excited to hug him and welcome him in. when reaching the tall british, you were welcomed with a cold and distant jude. “hey babe how was your game?”, you asked your boyfriend. upon your question, jude’s facial expression changed heavily. “what do you mean how was my game? did you even pay attention to what just happened?”,he asked furiously. his words hit you like a cold dagger that was plummeted into your heart, dry and distant, with a hint of anger still lingering in his voice. “do you want to talk about it?”, you asked trying to console your boyfriend. his words broke you, all you tried to do was ask if his game went okay, even though you’d know what his response would be. “no, god just leave me alone— you’re such a bother y/n.”, jude stated furiously. he quickly stormed off to your shared room, shutting the door loudly, letting you know to not even step foot into the room. your heart broke, you couldn’t contain your tears anymore.

you ran to your living room in tears, only seeing blurriness, and tasting the saltiness water streaming down your face. you mentally cursed yourself out feeling guilty for making him angry, even though it was not your fault at all. you knew he was a bit pissed off from his game still , but you never meant to provoke him even more than he was. you laid down on your sofa, grabbing a blanket and covering yourself completely. you wanted to give him space, let him cool down a bit.

meanwhile in your little bubble, your thoughts raced, ‘was it my fault for making him angry?’ you kept sobbing, overloading yourself with these negative thoughts. you let yourself cry until you couldn’t anymore. all you let out were heavy breaths which occupied the quiet home. with all the crying, it made you sleepy, and you couldn’t help but doze off into the night sky. you would soon be awaiting your boyfriends apology in the morning.

but was he right about you being a bother..?

a/n: i kind of tweaked it a bit anon!! also this is my first fic so im mentally cringing at myself bc im not used to this 🙁, so i hope yall like it

[roosterr]

Heyyy! I’m not sure if you’re taking requests rn.. BUT if you areee, can I just please get a john price with the prompt “why are you avoiding me?” (Bc I’m a slut for angst) with a large fry on the side? IF NOT I TOTALLY COOL

outside it starts to pour

note: two posts in one month? who am i? i hope this is angsty enough lol, i re-wrote it 3 times bc i wasnt happy with it, its a love hate relationship 🥲 but anyway pls enjoy anon!!!

pairing: john price x gn!reader

wc: 1.5k

summary: in your dreams, you're more than just someone who warms john's bed

warnings: fwb, implied smut but no actual smut, angst, miscommunication (i cant help myself), hurt/no comfort, no happy ending

ao3

"why're you avoidin' me?"

the question echoes in your ears, drowning out the war drum of your heartbeat despite the heavy silence that settles between you.

john has a hand around your arm, gentle and barely there but still anchoring you in place like a vice with just his light touch. the back of your mind screams for you to rip yourself free, get as far away from the familiar timbre of his voice and the near-stifling comfort of his smoky scent as you can before he can get you in his web again. but just like always, he's got you right where he wants you.

how many times have you been pulled behind the door he was halfway out of? and how many times have you been ushered back out again with your hair and heart a mess, just to pretend like nothing happened? always one foot in your little secret and one in his reputation, never fully with you; that's how the captain operated, and you feel like a fool for ever believing otherwise.

a squeeze to your arm brings you back to the present, suddenly all too aware of his fingers against your skin and his eyes boring into your own with an intensity that has your heart fluttering – against your mind's better judgement.

"i'm not." your response is a mutter, your gaze dropping from his to the hardwood ahead of you. it's unconvincing, even to you, but he had no right to question you like this.

"you are." he shoots back, gruffly and without a second of hesitation. from the corner of your vision you see his brow furrow, casting shadow over those eyes that always captivate you so mercilessly.

a sigh escapes his chest at your lack of response, his eyes darting from one end of the hallway to the other before giving your arm a miniscule tug, nodding his head back towards his office.

that's how it always starts. the thought makes your heart clenches painfully. "stop. i don't want to–"

"no." he interrupts firmly, with a shake of his head so resolute it almost has you believing that was never his intention to begin with. your eyes gravitate towards his again, and there's a spark of something, under the surface, when his thumb strokes your skin, dipping just below the hem of your sleeve. "talk to me, what's wrong?"

the urge to give in is tempting, to fall into his arms like you always do, just how he wants, how he expects you to. this time, however, you're determined to avoid his trap.

"it's nothing," you avert your gaze again, sighing in the same moment you take his wrist and slowly pull his touch from your arm, "just leave it."

john tuts. "it's not nothin', though, is it?" he asks, sidestepping into your line of sight again and ignoring the pointed look you give him. "talk to me."

if he cared for you the same way you do for him, his persistence would be endearing, but you know better. you're a good soldier who just so happens to be a good fuck too; that's all you are to him, and that's all you'll ever be.

"i told you. drop it." you shake your head, face creasing into a frown as you turn on your heel. if you have to endure any more of his deceiving sympathy, you know you'll only end up caving to his desires. you're not that strong, and that's why you need to keep as much distance as possible between you.

"you're somewhere else, lieutenant." he calls after you, stopping you in your tracks before you can get too far. you don't bother to turn around, but he continues anyway. "if you can't get your head back in the game, i can't risk havin' you out in the field."

your indignant laugh bounces off the walls.

"it's just that easy for you, isn't it?" there's a lump in your throat as you force the last two words over it, one you hope neither of you will acknowledge.

"and what's that supposed to mean?" he scoffs, the sound of his boots taking a few damning steps closer to where you stand, still with your back to him.

"i don't know why i'm offended, you always do this." you mutter, bringing your hand up to smooth over the crease of your brow, the tremble there barely noticeable but telling of your fragile state.

he doesn't respond this time, waiting for you to elaborate with what you're sure is a glare directed at the back of your head.

"you find something to take, and take, and take from," you spin around to face him again, which proves to be a mistake because the second you meet his concerned eyes, you can feel the sting of tears in your own. "and as soon as it's not useful to you anymore, you chuck it away like yesterday's leftovers."

the silence that follows your outburst is so tense it weighs you down. you can't will yourself to move, to tear your gaze away from him even when your vision blurs. it takes a moment for you to realise just how ragged your breathing has become, feeling the hard rise and fall of your chest over your racing heart as you come down from your anger.

"that… that's not what this is." john utters, his face morphing into something you coin as pity, and it makes your heart squeeze all over again.

"don't. i told you to fucking leave it…" your voice is weaker than before, and you curse yourself for showing this amount of weakness in front of him, because now you know he knows that it was never just sex to you. he never meant that little to you.

by some miracle you manage to blink away the tears before they can fall and embarrass you further. you wait for him to say something, in a painful sense of awkwardness that's never been there before, but all he does is stare at you.

"i can't do this anymore." you whisper, the words muffled through the blood rushing in your ears. you fix him with another scathing look before turning to leave for the second time tonight.

"wait." he calls your name as you walk away, quickly moving to catch up with you, but you have no desire to listen to him, not anymore. he gives you no time to react when he rushes to stand in your path, grasping both your shoulders to stop you when you try to sidestep him. "for fucks sake, just hold on."

there's a conflicted look in his gaze that seems to pull his expression down with it. if you had anything left to give you might've felt bad for being the cause, but it's been months of this game of cat and mouse, and you're drained.

"it was a mutual arrangement," he urges, his eyes search yours, something you can't discern muddying the deep blue as they dart across your face.

you give a watery scoff, rolling your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself of the ache his touch brings you. "there was no arrangement. you're not an idiot, john, you knew how i felt about you."

"what?" he has the audacity to sound confused, and you have to resist the urge to scoff again. "how you felt about me? what're you saying?"

"i think it's pretty obvious by now." you mutter, folding your arms over you chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. he hasn't taken his eyes off you once, your skin prickling under his intense stare. "i'm an idiot for thinking this would go any other way."

there's another heavy pause, john opens his mouth and closes it again like he was fighting with himself on what to say. the way your throat has constricted makes it hard to breath without sobbing, your breath coming out laboured and uneven.

"do you regret it?" he finally asks, his fingertips pressing into your flesh almost imperceptibly, leaving your skin tingling even though your shirt.

it was self-destruction, giving in to him every time even though it felt like a thorn in your heart. to allow yourself to live in the fantasy that he loved you while you were in his arms, just to have that warm feeling shattered when he told you to get dressed.

"yes."

you regret falling for someone who would never love you back.

"it's over. let me go, captain." you whisper, a plea for him to release you from whatever spell he's got you under, even if you don't really mean it.

his hands drop from your shoulders, letting one curl into a fist at his side and bringing the other up to scratch his beard in an uncharacteristically nervous gesture. you know it's for the better, but the knowledge couldn't stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you brush past him, feeling his gaze burning into you as you lean away to avoid touching him.

he doesn't stop you when you walk away this time.

[allmonstersxarehuman]

I Need Space

Bang Chan x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Only terrible writing and no editing. Angst with no comfort.

“How many times do I need to apologize, it’s not a big deal. I was just being nice, She wanted help with some lyrics she was writing and had mentioned how much she admired my work, she’s new to the company I wanted to be helpful.” Your boyfriend says following you like a lost puppy, you weren’t having it though. When you got into a relationship with Chan you knew he was a natural flirt but it happened time and time again, this time a mutual friend had spotted your boyfriend out with a new employee from the company. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if he hadn’t lied to you about where he was going and have his phone off the entire time. He had told you he was working with the guys on working on more of the songs they were preparing, when you called Changbin to ask if they wanted you to bring dinner he was confused saying that Chan wanted to take the day off. You had hung up with a simple thanks before passing back and forth through your living room. You had been so stuck in your own head that the ding of your phone scared you, it was a text from Minnie a mutual friend of yours and Chans. You had been texting her about what was going on and trying to get some advice, what she had sent you made your blood boil. There he was, your boyfriend with the “new employee” they were in a coffee shop as they talked and he took his hand and rubbed it up and down her bare arm almost in a comforting way she gave him a smile as she placed her hand on his before she grabbed his laptop and started to type on it. The laptop that no one ever got to touch including you and the other members, now that was something that made you upset. Sounds stupid but he was trusting a complete stranger with his laptop but not you or the boys? That didn’t sit right. After that the video ended and Minnie said she was going to go give him a piece of her mind, you protested through text but you knew Minnie if she has her mind set on something nothing is going to change her mind.

This is how you got into the situation you were in, you looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Really I didn’t know that kind of stuff included touching someone else and lying to your girlfriend and some of your group mates. What makes you trust her more than us?” The question through him off and arched an eyebrow to question what you were talking about. You were tired of him acting innocent until you showed him a snapshot of her using his laptop. “Oh. Technically I didn’t let her use it, she grabbed it from me and I took it from her very quick, that’s when Minnie came over and gave me an ear full and I came here because she said that I needed to explain myself to you.” You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair, maybe you are just being dramatic but this also wasn’t the first time he’s been overly friendly to new staff. Though you do know that Chris is a social butterfly there is something different about the way he acts with the new employees especially ones that run around in tiny skirts, he definitely tends to flatter the person he is talking to and ends up sending mixed signals. You know this from experience, that’s how things were before the two of you started dating. But about a month after dating he started up this habit. Now a year into the relationship and he still does it sometimes you’d catch him with one of them in his studio looking awfully close the women always smirked at you like they New something you didn’t, he had an explanation for anything and everything. But now you didn’t want to hear anymore of his excuses. “I think we should split up.” You whispered. “I’m not sure I heard you right, it sounded like you wanted to split up.” He laughed lightly thinking it was most likely a joke to scare him to get back at him. “Chris we need to split up. I can’t do this anymore, I’m exhausted wondering if you are lying to me or telling the truth. I cant trust you and maybe I need the space, I can’t continue to sit here wondering if you are cheating or just trying to get an reaction out of me but I can’t do it anymore. I’m to tired for this.” You said softly walking to your bedroom with Chris trailing behind, you ignored his pleas to just sit with him and talk but you ignored him and started packing the things he had left for when he stayed over. Once you were sure you had finished packing his belongings, you handed it to him but not before setting the necklace he gave you for your one year anniversary. You felt dirty keeping it especially knowing that he probably did this with everyone he found attractive, you unfortunately fell for his sweet talk and gentle touches.

“Here I think that is everything, don’t worry about giving me the key I’m having the locks and passwords changed. I’m sorry this didn’t work out but know that I really did truly loved you. I wish you the best.” You said opening the front to see him out. He looked at you his eyes looked sad and a single tear fell. “I’m sorry. But know I never cheated, and I definitely never meant to hurt you. Please don’t shut me out, we can get over this hill. I promise we can make this work.” He said dropping the box and taking your small hands in his larger ones, it was so hard not to give into him. “No Christopher, I need space; maybe we will have another chance to do this correctly but right now…” you couldn’t finish your sentence before swallowing the sob that threatened to escape. “Please Chan don’t make this harder than it already is.” You said looking down at the ground. He opened his mouth to say something but shut it knowing he wouldn’t be able to change your mind right now but he was determined to win you back. “I love you y/n.” He said softly before walking out your door. Once he was gone you collapsed on the floor letting a sob escape, you know that this was probably for the best but why does it’s feel so wrong.

[neoneun-au]

CAN'T HELP MYSELF; CHAPTER IV: HEAR ME OUT

―PAIRING: wonwoo x fem!reader, mingyu x fem!reader ―GENRE: love triangle au, fluff, mild angst, romantic comedy, suggestive, smut ―CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 11.2k ―CHAPTER WARNINGS: angst, mild language, alcohol consumption, therapy, 18+ only ―STATUS: ongoing

―AUTHOR’S NOTE: i cant link them here, but please find the series masterlist and other chapters on my blog. i would love to know your thoughts on the story so far, this is really only fun with interaction and it helps keep me motivation to finish !

iv: hear me out

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The morning dawns bright and bleary-eyed and you starfish out in bed, stretching your limbs and feeling more relaxed than you’ve felt in months. You take your time getting ready–a leisurely shower, a lengthy scroll through social media, closing and re-opening the same work email five separate times to reassure yourself that this recent project was in fact not due first thing Monday morning. A weekend of peace and freedom–no looming threat of work obligations and marginally less sexual frustration than usual. Pure bliss.

Sounds of life start to filter in through your door from the hallway about an hour after you first wake up; the rest of condo inhabitants up and about after their own late Friday night escapades. You had heard a few of them coming in around 2:00am or so as you began to drift off to sleep but otherwise what time everyone got in and got to bed was a mystery to you. After a few minutes lingering at the edge of your mattress listening to your stomach rumble, you drop your feet to the ground and step out into the hallway in search of breakfast. 

Mingyu, it seems, had the exact same plan as you. His door clicks shut behind him just as you close your own and you stand facing each other like you had just run into your long lost lover at a train station someplace far from home. 

“Good morning,” he says after a beat, the hint of a smile beginning to creep in at the corners of his mouth. 

“Morning,” you reply, feeling the fog of contentment settle back down to reality as you stand opposite him–your hand tugs gingerly at the hem of your old floral nightshirt. 

“How did you sleep?” he asks and you can’t tell if there’s an edge of conspiracy in his voice, an ‘I know what you did last night’ gleam in his eye. You’re probably imagining it. You hope to god you’re imagining it.

“Quite well,” you respond, shaking off the thought and stubbornly refusing to give in to the fear that he had heard you in the midst of your fantasies. You cross your arms over your chest in defense–warding off any further psychic connection. “You?”

“Good,” he replies and you nod in acknowledgement. His gaze flitters from yours to the hallway behind you, pointedly avoiding drifting lower than your face and you realise after a second that he has a fairly decent top down view of your cleavage. You let your arms fall back down. “Got any plans today?”

“Meeting up with some friends later, but aside from that nothing, thankfully,” you reply with a shrug. “How about yourself?” 

“Not much,” he mirrors your shrug and you worry for a second that you are going to be left repeating yet another stunted hallway conversation. Thankfully he opens his mouth after a breath to continue, “Though, I think Seungcheol is trying to recruit me for some promotional video for his gym. I told him to ask Vernon since Vernon is the actor.”

“But he still wants you to do it?” you ask, closing the shutter on the mental image of Mingyu lifting weights before it can imbed itself in your subconscious alongside his bare nipples. 

“Yeah, he told me Vernon has the body of a wet noodle.” 

You laugh, the veil of tension that had descended on the pair of you relaxes back into normalcy at the comment and you’re glad for the distraction. “I would say I’m surprised but that tie-dye is pretty baggy…” you trail off with a grin and Mingyu tosses his head back in laughter before turning with you to head down the hallway. 

The kitchen is abuzz with activity when you enter, Seungcheol is deep in a lecture aimed directly at Vernon who appears to not fully be listening despite the occasional cursory nod. The distinctive scent of eggs permeates the air and you notice an array of food already laid out on the table in front of Jeonghan. 

“Morning you two,” he greets, one eyebrow raised. As usual, seeking out some sort of intrigue. “Late night?” 

“Not really,” you reply, shaking your head and refusing to take the bait. You sit down at the table and swipe a slice of bread from the side of his plate; sinking your teeth into it before he can admonish the theft. “I’ve been awake for an hour already, just hanging out in my room before joining you animals.”

“Is that so?” he asks, unwilling to give up the narrative he has built in his head. You knew confessing to him about your micro-crush (if you could even call it that) on Mingyu was a bad idea, but you thought that after the stern warning and lecture he had given you that he might actually be normal about something for once in his life. No such luck. 

You open your mouth to reply, more than ready to raise your own sword in this duel, but you’re cut off before you can begin as the rest of the household takes a seat at the table to join you.

“Mingyu, how did that date go last night?” Seungcheol asks, relieving Vernon of his lecture for now. An apparent relief as Vernon immediately gathers up a small plate of food before retreating from the kitchen completely.  

Date? The word shoots through the room like a lightning bolt. Jeonghan glances at you, fox-like features alight with malicious curiosity. You stare wide-eyed at Mingyu as he opens and closes his mouth like a trout caught in a net. “Oh uh…I cancelled it, actually,” he carefully avoids your gaze, instead burying his face in his mug of coffee. 

“Cancelled it? Why? I thought you said she was cute?” Seungcheol asks, blissfully ignorant to the relay of glances darting around him. He waits happily for Mingyu to respond, grabbing a few slices of fruit from Jeonghan’s plate before he can swat his hand away. 

“She was yeah,” Mingyu concedes with a small laugh. You see a faint hint of red starting to colour the tips of ears as all three sets of eyes around the table fix their attention fully on him, all for different reasons. He rubs at the back of his neck and feigns a nonchalant shrug, though it’s plain to see that he could not be feeling more chalant. “I just didn’t think it was really going to go anywhere, so I cancelled it.” 

Seungcheol laughs, taking a bite of his prize apple, “since when have you ever cared about it going somewhere before?” 

Mingyu bristles, hackles raised at the implication in the question. An uncharacteristic frown deepens in the corners of his mouth, marring his handsome features. “Contrary to popular belief, I’m not just a slut. I do actually want a relationship.” 

You’re so caught up in listening to the exchange that you don’t notice his eyes darting to meet yours before it’s too late to avoid them. You find yourself locked in his gaze again, a beat too long to go unnoticed by Jeonghan as he chuckles next to you. 

You feel the air around you thicken and scramble to your feet to beat a hasty retreat, following in Vernon’s footsteps. With slightly trembling hands you collect a mug and grasp for the box of assorted teas from the top shelf. 

Seungcheol, it seems, has given up on ribbing Mingyu about his dating life and instead turns his attention towards you just as you try and make yourself invisible in the corner while you wait for the kettle to boil. “Ready for another jog tonight?” 

“Oh, no I uh–” you stutter, “I actually have plans tonight so I won’t be able to.”

He frowns, wide brown eyes shimmering with disappointment and you feel like you just let your parents down. “This isn’t an excuse to get out of training, is it?” he asks and you shake your head, frantic to dispel the thought. 

“No, not at all, one of my friend’s is back in the country, she lives in England and she’s only here–”

Seungcheol holds up a hand–flat, open palm halting your excuses. “Say no more,” he says, “we can reschedule for tomorrow night. Friendship is worth the sacrifice.” 

“Oh…okay thanks,” you reply, unsure of what else to do with the proverb. The kettle whistles and you pour the hot water into your mug–careful to avoid sloshing it over the sides.

Tea in hand you turn to rush back towards the safety of your bedroom as Seungcheol and Mingyu strike up a conversation about the national soccer team’s prospects. Jeonghan keeps you locked in his sights as you walk by, fixing you with an evaluating look that would be withering if it weren’t mostly just irritating. You snatch his last slice of toast without looking back.

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The hum of the sports bar fills your senses, dulling your thoughts (a not unwelcome intrusion).��

It’s the sound of pool balls smashing against each other as they shoot across the beer-stained green top of the billiards table. The faint scent of chlorine bleach mixed with body odor and stale cigarettes. The round robin of songs floating out from the made-to-look-old jukebox in the corner. It was as familiar as it was revolting and you found yourself lost in your surroundings, half expecting an old college fling to rear his ugly head up from behind the bar. 

It had been Yerim’s idea to visit a few of your old haunts from before she moved away. Some burst of nostalgia propelling her on a mission to hunt down every decrepit pub and restaurant that you had all graced with your presence–pockets lined with scholarship and loan money intended for tuition and books but all too often spent on cold coffee and hot street food. 

Most of them had since closed for business (much to her vocal distress), but the few that she did manage to remember and locate had now become items on her itinerary during her visit. 

Thankfully work obligations had kept you busy through half of it and she was mostly content with dragging her English friend around with her, but you knew you weren’t going to be able to avoid it forever. And despite the chaos that usually followed her around like a shadow, you did want to see her before she left again.

So now you’re sitting across from Seulgi and Yerim in some sports bar in Itaewon that you barely remember the name of having been unceremoniously thrust upon arrival into the booth next to Yerim’s friend Sam. 

He’s tall, lightly moustached, and smells faintly of bargain bin cologne. He greeted you with an appraising nod that made you somehow both appalled and flattered and now he’s talking at a steady monotone into your ear about some observation on the local food or another while you sip on your lukewarm pint of ale. You’re nodding at the appropriate intervals, giving little hums of approval where needed, but your mind is occupied watching the game of darts across the bar and not actually hearing a single coherent word come out of his mouth. 

“It’s a rather tepid way to play, I always thought–” 

His voice drones on in the background, roughly the same decibel as the ambient noise of the room so it was easy to ignore. You flick your eyes from his face down to the table and back over to the group of men playing darts. You used to be good at darts. You recall the weight of the slim bolt of metal as it would rest in your palm, waiting for your turn while you were already half-cut on happy hour brews and whatever the guy of the moment was buying for you. 

“You know, I’ve always admired a woman’s natural ability to–”

One of the darts group strolls over to the bar, trying to catch the bartender’s attention as he leans against the back wall and chats with the sole waitress in the place. She looks young, maybe 21 or 22. She’s probably in college, working to pay her way through school or just for some extra spending money. That ash blonde balayage can’t be cheap to maintain…

“Don’t you think so?”

Isn’t that Wonwoo’s friend? Or boss? Or whatever? That short guy with the black ponytail throwing darts? You vaguely recall him from a work dinner years ago at their company, but according to Wonwoo he was a big homebody so you rarely ever saw him. 

“Hello, is anyone alive in there?” Seulgi’s voice cuts through your mental fog and you snap back to attention, blinking the focus back into your eyes as you notice everyone at the table staring at you. 

“What? Sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew, what were we talking about?” 

“Who?” Yerim asks, craning her neck to try and spot a familiar face. None appear in her immediate line of sight and the disappointment is evident on her expression as soon as she turns back around. You’re not sure what her intention was in dragging everyone back here but you wouldn’t put it out of the realm of possibilities that she had brewed up some fantasy of running into a washed up ex-boyfriend and getting the chance to flaunt how successful and worldly she has become over the years. Not that you could blame her for the fantasy, you would probably be doing the same in her position. 

She excuses herself to the bathroom and you watch as she slips out of her seat and saunters across the room, head bobbing side to side to make sure that there was no one there that she knew before disappearing around the corner. 

“You’re so distracted tonight,” Seulgi states, pulling your attention back to her. She’s eyeing you with suspicion, one eyebrow slightly raised, as she sets her empty pint glass down onto the table.  

“It’s just been a long time since I’ve been back here, it’s kind of weird.” You shrug off her suspicion, pointedly ignoring her amused scoff. Someone clears his throat beside you and you’re forced to remember Yerim’s gangly British friend. 

When you first met up for dinner earlier, Yerim had pulled you aside while he and Seulgi were discussing the cost of beef in Korea vs the UK to gauge your interest in him and through a series of frantic hand signals you were sure you had successfully communicated that you had absolutely zero interest in this cardigan-wearing man even if he was mostly polite and non-threatening. Yerim pouted for a minute, as she was wont to do, before shrugging and reaching for another slice of pork belly and dropping the matter. 

Afterwards, it felt like someone had let the steam vent off on a pressure cooker. You were able to relax and Yerim mostly stopped trying to force conversation between yourself and Sam.  

Without Yerim around now, though, you realise how out of his element he must feel. A twinge of guilt for how quickly you had written him off started to creep up inside you. Maybe you didn’t want anything romantic with him but did that mean you couldn’t get to know him a bit? Maybe he wasn’t all that boring. Maybe you could get lost in a nice, simple conversation with someone who didn’t have the full documented history of you or your many neuroses. 

“So, did you grow up in London?” you ask and he startles, taken off guard by the sudden attention.  

“No, uhh–” he stammers and you watch a slight layer of breath fog up his glasses as he snorts a small laugh, “it’s a funny story actually, I–”

“Oh my god!” Yerim’s voice breaks through his sentence as she rushes back towards the table–cutting him off before you have the time to decide whether it actually is a funny story or not. 

“Guys, red alert,” she stage-whispers, crashing back into her seat. She’s panting, eyes wide as saucers–for a split second you wonder if she had done a lap outside in the cold. “I just went to the bathroom and you’re never going to guess who–”

Her voice fades into the background as your vision narrows to a point. Wonwoo’s eyes catch yours from the hallway Yeri had just run back from and you feel your heart plummet to its assured death in the pit of your stomach. 

When had he gotten here? He’s half a foot taller than most of the people in here, how had you not noticed him earlier? Were you that painfully oblivious or had he crawled in under your nose? 

You sit transfixed–frozen solid at the sight of him–and judging by the expression on his face he’s just as shocked to find you here. You’re sure he hadn’t anticipated running into the girl who broke his heart in a random sports bar in Itaewon. 

Everything slows to a stop, like one of those scenes in a rom com where the main characters see each other across the room and everything else goes blurry. It’s just them, their feelings, and whatever indie love song was chosen for the soundtrack. You wonder if the actors in those scenes feel it as strongly as you do now. It would be hard to act when you feel like your stomach is going to fall directly out of your ass. 

In the span of a breath, as abruptly as it had begun, the spell is over. The director calls cut, the background actors return to normal, the sounds and sights of the bar rush back into your periphery and you’re stuck frozen in your seat, staring at Wonwoo with your jaw slightly unhinged while your friends exchange knowing glances. 

“What’s happening?” Sam asks, his voice pinging off the side of your attention like an errant tennis ball. 

“I swear I had no clue he was going to be here,” Yerim starts, an edge of panic coating her words as they spill out of her mouth. You barely hear her. You’re too busy watching in horror as Wonwoo seems to also snap back to reality. You see his eyes flit from you to Sam and back again–he seems to be hovering on the precipice of a decision, wheels turning in his mind as he considers all exit strategies. Or at least, that’s what you would be doing in his shoes. 

The horror rises higher and higher in your throat as he starts to grow bigger in your vision. A trick of the mind. The object of so many of your thoughts and anxieties exploding into IMAX sized pixels right in front of your naked eyes, expanding over the whole screen of your view until he seems to loom over you like an omnipresent being. It isn’t until he’s about a foot away from you that you realise this is just because he was walking in your direction. 

“Hey,” he greets, caution clear in his voice. 

You gape at him, open mouthed and floundering, and Seulgi (blessedly) takes over the interaction in your stead before it gets too awkward and everyone explodes in the wake of your embarrassment. “Hello,” she supplies, “did you just get here? I’m surprised we didn’t see you earlier.” 

“Yeah,” he nods, a slight awkward laugh cushioning the word as he speaks. “I’m here with some colleagues from work, one of them is a huge Arsenal fan so he wanted to catch the game down here.” 

“That’s cool,” she nods and you feel her nudge your shin with the toe of her boot under the table, forcing you out of your slack-jacked state. You snap your mouth shut and take a sip of your drink, averting your eyes from Wonwoo as you feel heat creep up your neck. 

Seulgi, uncharacteristically polite, continues, “do you remember Yerim?” the woman in question smiles at him as her name is said and he nods his acknowledgement, “she’s back in Seoul with her friend here. We’re just catching up. How have you been?”

“Good, good,” he starts and then, thinking better of it, clears his throat to retry, “well, not bad. Work and…everything, you know? How are you?”

“Oh, I’m just great,” Seulgi smiles and boots you again. You take the hint and finally lift your gaze, catching Wonwoo’s eyes as they flicker over your face. 

“How are you?” he asks again, voice softer. The question is directed at you and you feel the weight of it sink in as you try and sort through your scrambled thoughts for any semblance of a coherent response. 

“Fine uh, yeah,” you nod, head bobbing on your neck like a loose spring. “Good. Long time no–umm…Jihoon, is that? How’s every–? You’re? He’s–work good?” 

Wonwoo is silent for a second, processing the tangle of words that had just spilled free from your mouth, before you see him connect the dots. “Yeah, he’s doing well. Work is…well the same as always, really. Not much changes there.” 

“Right, yeah,” you nod, a pained half smile stretching over your face. You’re sure you look horrific–terrified or terrifying. The heat continues to rise up your neck and into your head, further suppressing any hope for conscious, articulate thought as you buckle under the weight of Wonwoo’s gaze. Seulgi kicks you under the table a third time and you think you might scream. 

“I was uh,” he pauses, chuckling lightly. You can see his fingers clutching at the edges of his sleeves, worrying a loose thread as he collects himself. You watch as he wraps and unwraps the thread around his index finger, twisting the rest of the fabric up in his fist. He’s anxious. 

You remember making fun of him once–early in your relationship–for this habit. He was even more shy and reserved back then, unable or unwilling to tell you what he was thinking half the time, and unsure the other half. But you could always tell, once he started tugging his sleeves further and further down his arms–hiding his wrists, then hands–that he had something he needed to say. Something he had been worrying about for a while. Truthfully you found it cute, a grown man with sweater paws like a child in his dad’s clothing, but you couldn’t help but tease him anyway. He looked so sweet when he blushed about it, continuing to tug at the ends of his sleeves. And you just wanted him to tell you. You wanted to know, whatever it was on his mind, fraying the ends of his sleeves.  

Wonwoo clears his throat and you refocus your gaze on him, heat slowly draining back down through your neck as you do. The feeling of being hunted for sport subsides as you come to your senses finally. “I was actually going to text you, but I just…” he trails off and you nod, encouraging him to continue. You’re sure the three extra sets of eyes boring holes into him with the laser beams of their curiosity is not helping his anxiety. Your own dangerous cocktail of anxious curiosity was a second away from implosion itself. 

“There’s some stuff…at the apartment. Mail and…a few things you left behind. I thought you might want to come and pick them up, but I wasn’t sure if…” he gestures vaguely and you nod again. A strange swell of disappointment starts to creep in. That’s it? 

“Oh yeah, of course,” you say, swallowing the disappointment down as quickly as it comes. What else could you have been expecting? “I’ll come and take those off your hands. Just um…text me when you’re free?” 

He nods and, after a quick wave goodbye, heads back towards the small group of men that had been watching from across the bar. Your eyes follow his retreating back, watching his hands clasp and unclasp the fabric of his sweater as he does, before turning your attention back to your own group. 

“Oh my god,” Yerim exclaims in a stage whisper, eyes saucer wide with glee. “He wants you to come over!” 

You frown, the intrusive feeling of disappointment returning, “just to pick up some stuff, don’t be so dramatic.”

“Oh who cares about a bit of old mail, I would have just thrown it out if I were him,” she huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of her line of sight.

“Isn’t that a crime?” Sam asks but the question falls on deaf ears against the wall of possibilities that Yerim is now crafting in her labyrinthine mind of reality tv plots. 

“Listen,” she starts, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction and you wonder why you’re being lectured to all of a sudden. You haven’t even fully processed running into Wonwoo in the first place. You aren’t even sure you’re inhabiting a corporeal form right now. “Clearly he’s still in love with you.”

“Oh please,” you start but she shakes her head, resolute. 

“Don’t fool yourself, what scorned ex-boyfriend goes out of his way to run into the love of his life in a sports bar accidentally.” She throws heavy air quotes around the word ‘accidentally’ and you just roll your eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure it was just accidental,” Seulgi chimes in, the voice of reason. 

“Yes, thank you, Seulgi. This is just a weird coincidence,” you sigh, spinning your glass around on its coaster.

“Or fate,” she beams and you want to laugh but the feeling dies before the sound can materialize. It feels too pathetic. 

“Strange thing for fate to do, months after I’ve already broken up with him.” 

“Wait, you broke up with him?” Sam asks, now invested in the drama despite all lack of knowledge surrounding the people and situations involved. You envy his ignorance.  

You sigh and nod, “yes. I broke his heart and then left some reminders of it around the apartment we used to share so he’s asking me to come and take them so he doesn’t have to deal with it anymore.” Yerim opens her mouth to speak but you stop her with a glare, “it is not his way of somehow getting me back into his life, he’s just too nice to throw my stuff out without warning.”

“But what if–”

“No, there is no ‘if’. This is it. I’m going to go there, pick up my mail, say goodbye and that will be it. We’ll never have any reason to see each other again and he can move on and date someone else and I–”

I can too, you think–swallowing the words. 

“I’m sorry, I’m confused,” Sam says, breaking the spell of silence that had descended on the table. “You broke up with him but…you want him back? Or he wants you back? How long have you guys been broken up?”

“I’ll explain later,” Yerim whispers.

“No, no you won’t, because I don’t think you know completely either,” you sigh, angling to face Sam but aiming the bulk of the speech right towards Yerim herself. You glance across the room briefly–a cautionary look to make sure Wonwoo isn’t in earshot. 

He’s leaning up against the far wall, pool cue in hand, watching as Jihoon leans over the table to line up a shot. The old Wonwoo would have left the second he saw you here, but there he is. Standing within 15 feet of you without breaking out into a cold sweat (as far as you can tell). 

Maybe he has changed, you think. He must have felt you watching him because his eyes meet yours for a split second before you tear your gaze away from him–stare burning a hole into the table next to your hands.  

You sigh again, feeling like you’ve aged 10 years in the past hour. “I broke up with him because I didn’t think either of us could give the other person what they needed. It was hard, and I still,” you blink back the threat of tears as they start to form in your eyes. Whether tears of frustration or otherwise you didn’t exactly feel like crying in a bar in front of your ex-boyfriend and some random British dude. “I still love him but I’m not in love with him. I’m moving on and…so is he.” You conclude, remembering the last time you ran into him. The girl he was with. The cold shock of ice water in your veins. 

“I still don’t–” Sam starts but Seulgi cuts him off, her radar detecting the potential torrential downpour of anxiety and stress that is clouding your current emotional landscape. 

“It doesn’t matter,” she waves the topic away with a swing of her hand, dismissing all further comments on the matter and releasing you of the risk of overexplaining yourself once again. “What’s done is done and whatever will happen will happen and it’s not up to us to decide what the best decision is when we’re not actually involved. So, are we getting another round or should I call a taxi?” 

“Ooh, I was hoping we could go get some food now actually, there’s this super cute toast place a few blocks from here that I’ve been following on Insta and I need to get a pic with their neon displays.” Yerim, whether consciously or not, pivots immediately into a spiel about the rest of her plans for her vacation. You exhale slowly, relief sinking into your bones, and mouth a ‘thank you’ to Seulgi before she gets up to pay. 

You sit silent, alone with your thoughts for a moment, and trace idle patterns over the wood grain of the table; listening to Yerim ramble as she takes Sam on an Instagram-based tour of all the places she intends on dragging him to for the next few days. Seulgi returns after closing out the tab and everyone starts gathering their things to leave, Yerim excitedly narrating the toast menu as you do. 

Before you step out onto the night, you chance a final look across the bar towards Wonwoo to find him in the same position he was when you last dared to look at him. His eyes, slightly obscured by his glasses, were still fixed on you and you wonder if he had looked away at all over the past few minutes. He nods once, a minute tilt of the head, barely registerable unless you were paying as close of attention as you were, and you return it in kind before falling in line behind Seulgi and turning away from him. 

It’s not until the cold air hits you that you start to feel the heat of his eyes dissipate into the night. 

.

.

.

Minghao sits across from you, glasses perched delicately at the tip of his nose. His brown eyes evaluate you in silence as you adjust your posture in the brown leather wingback chair in his office–simultaneously too aware of your body and not aware enough to find a comfortable position. You finally give up fidgeting and decide to just tuck your wayward hands under your thighs to trap them there, offering him a small apologetic smile which he does not return, but he does nod and that is something isn’t it? 

It’s been years since you saw a therapist. The last one was at university, just before the start of the second term in your second year. Right at the cusp of a break up and a full blown anxiety induced existential crisis. The persistent thoughts of ‘oh god I’m ruining my life I need to drop out or change majors or move to Australia and work with the Wildlife Warriors Foundation’ had devoured every sane idea you had until you found yourself in shambles in the Students’ Union all but begging for help. 

The counsellor you had seen then had listened to you ramble in near silence before printing out some worksheets on deep belly breathing and anxiety management and sent you on your merry way to figure it out for yourself. So you did, eventually (though your GPA took a bit of a hit that semester), with some help from Seulgi and a TA that had taken pity on you and two years later you were graduating with a Bachelor of Design with a Minor in Print Media and those worksheets were buried somewhere deep in the recesses of your room, unread save a cursory glance. 

This time felt different. 

Instead of the wildfire of desperation and despair that had propelled you into the office in University all those years ago, you had (of mostly sound mind) reached out to Minghao with a formal request for an appointment and scheduled a time to sit down. For a few days leading up to the appointment you tried to collect your thoughts, formulate a plan for what you wanted to get out of these sessions, and corral your myriad of feelings into a neat script to recite to him—carefully crafted to best convey your current dilemma and also avoid a lot of those little things you did not feel quite ready to face yet.

“So,” he starts, offering you a small smile to ease the tension that always fills the office during first appointments, “let’s start with what you’re hoping to achieve from this session, and any going forward. What are your goals?” 

Despite all your careful preparation, your mind goes as white as a sheet of paper. Goals? You ponder the word. Unsure now if you’ve ever had any goals at all or if you’d just been floating along aimlessly this whole time, somehow still alive through mere circumstance.

To be less of an anxious wreck? Sure, maybe that was one. But was it a goal or just a product of your neuroses? Were you even really that anxious or did you just overthink everything too much? Is that the same thing? Did you want to tell him that? 

You chastise yourself silently, steering your errant thoughts away from the cliff they always careened off of and trying to remember the lists you had scribbled down prior to this appointment. 

“I think,” you start, wincing at the weakness of the verb. How unsure you must appear to him. You glance at his face briefly. It’s carefully composed–no hint of the impatience you’re sure he must be feeling. “I mean, I was hoping we would be able to work on my trust issues and um…anxieties in relationships, find out the roots of those,” you start again, following the script you had mentally prepared, “and maybe come up with some strategies to heal from past relationships and maybe make future ones…easier?” 

Good, good, you breathe a sigh of relief. These were not insane things to say. You are a normal person and these are normal goals.

“Okay,” he says, “that’s a good place to start as far as an end goal.” You smile, being careful not to let it grow too big to appear too pleased at the validation. Minghao continues, “when you say ‘relationships’, I’m assuming you are meaning mostly romantic relationships, correct?” 

You fool, how could you forget to clarify that! 

You feel a rush of mild panic swell up in your esophagus but you stave it off. You nod, clearing your throat, “yes, romantic relationships, exactly.” 

“They all tend to overlap in a lot of ways but I just want to make sure we’re on the same page,” he smiles again, that same soft smile, and you worry he noticed you were starting to panic. “Why don’t you tell me about your last relationship?” 

An open-ended question, okay okay. We were prepared for this, you coach yourself in silence, flipping through the mental pages of notes. Thankfully this one was easy. You had turned the problem of ‘me and Wonwoo’ in your mind over and over like a rotisserie chicken. You knew it inside and out. Every juicy morsel, every dry bone. 

“We were together for three, almost four, years before we broke up, lived together for two. We met through mutual friends at a party and just…it was just us from there. Me and Wonwoo, Wonwoo and I, always together in the same sentence and the same places. It was a good relationship, but I just…I don’t know if we were compatible, really.”

“Well, you were together for 3 years, it’s hard to spend that much time with someone you’re entirely incompatible with,” Minghao interjects and you grimace in spite of yourself. “Is there anything specific that makes you feel like that was the case?” 

“Specific…” you hum the word out loud. Despite all of the sleepless nights spent wondering this exact same thing alone, you were having a hard time summoning up any examples. “No, nothing…I don’t know,” you feel your house of cards start to lose its balance, the cracks begin to show. 

“Let’s reframe, then,” Minghao suggests, noting the distress beginning to creep into your voice. “What attracted you to him in the first place? What made you think ‘yeah, I do want to date this guy’?”

“He was hot,” you shrug then when Minghao doesn’t laugh at the flippant comment, you backpedal. Embarrassment creeping in at the edges. Clearly your tactic of deflecting with humour had no power here. “I mean, obviously I was physically attracted to him, and since we met at a party that was sort of initially the only thing I cared about. But as I got to know him I think he was just…different.” 

“Different in what way? From your usual type?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, extending the hands of your memory into the past. Trying to grasp at the Wonwoo you fell in love with in the first place. “He was quiet, and he listened–listens really well. He’s smart, too. Could have been a doctor or professor but he said the amount of school needed for that wasn’t worth it. Which I guess I sort of agree with, it was just a shame.”

You glance at Minghao, who is still watching you from under the rim of his wire-frame glasses. You wonder briefly how he and Mingyu met. Whether or not it had been a good idea to book in with a therapist that was a good friend of your roommate/budding romantic interest. He wouldn’t tell him any of this…would he? 

Minghao’s expression betrays no answer to these questions, just a silent cue for you to continue. 

You sigh, releasing the thoughts, and do so, “before him, I had always dated really active guys. Guys that liked to be the life of the party, that always had something to say and never second guessed themselves. I was attracted to that confidence. I thought it was nice to be with someone brash and loud. It made me feel less alone in my own loudness and chaos. They never lasted, but they were always fun. Everything was so exciting and I was never bored. Even when it was bad it felt…dramatic. Like a movie. And it was college so I didn’t really ever feel like I had to sit down and ponder why the relationships didn’t last, only that they didn’t. We fought too much, partied too often, the whole relationship was just some drunk fling, whatever. It didn’t matter.”

“But Wonwoo was so…not any of that. He would come out to parties if I asked him to, but he usually spent them in the corner talking about books or petting a cat or following me around. He always wanted to leave early. He was always so eager to be at home.”

“And you weren’t?” Minghao asks and you barely register the question before you’re hurrying along to answer it. 

“No, yes. I don’t know. At first I found it quite sweet–like he just wanted to spend a lot of alone time with me. And it was so novel and different that I never stopped to think it might be something I didn’t like.”

“At first?” Minghao clarifies and you nod. 

“After a little while, I started to feel like I was forcing him to go out when he didn’t want to. I was being the overbearing, annoying girlfriend dragging him to these parties against his will. So I stopped going to a lot of them, and the ones that I did go to I said I could just go alone.” 

“Did you ever ask him whether he felt the same way?�� The question brings your thought train to a dead stop. Minghao can see the confusion twisting your brows so he continues, “you stopped going to parties because you thought you were being annoying by dragging him along but did you ever ask if he felt like he was being burdened by these outings?” 

“No, I just…he never…he didn’t look like he was having a good time,” you flounder for an explanation, trying to remember what it was that had brought you to this conclusion in the first place. Had you ever talked to him about it? Were you just making all of this up?

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, maybe he really didn’t enjoy them. From what you’re telling me, he definitely does seem like more of a homebody,” he says, but you take little comfort in the words. “I am wondering, though, what brought you to this assumption without him mentioning anything about it. Did he ever say that he didn’t want to go? Or that he wished you wouldn’t?” 

“I don’t…I can’t remember…” you say slowly, mind fogging up. A cloud of confusion overcrowding your thoughts.  

“That’s okay,” he says but you do not feel like it is okay, actually. Had you ruined everything years ago without even realising? Was scheduling this appointment a mistake? “I don’t want you to overanalyze the specifics, those are often the least important part especially when something is in the past. We can’t change those things, only learn from them. It’s just helpful to know whether or not these trust issues have manifested more internally or because of external situations. To find out where they tend to stem from.”

You nod, the clock on the wall ticks as your thoughts wind through time. You want, so desperately, for there to be some solid memory to tie this all back to. Something from your past or your childhood to point to and say ‘look, there it is!’ A magical moment to blame all your issues on so that you can be born from this session a new person. But sadly nothing was ever that simple, and you couldn’t ever remember not being this way. Were you just…like this? Some untenable part of you broken at birth, barring you from ever developing a healthy, functioning relationship without feeling like you’re sacrificing some integral part of yourself while you do so? Or without feeling like it was all some illusion bound to disperse into smoke and mirrors with the snap of someone’s fingers?

“What are you thinking?” Minghao asks, clearly taking note of the darkening of your expression. The tension creeping into your brow. You don’t want to tell him. Don’t want the confirmation of being beyond help. 

Or maybe that’s not it. Maybe it’s the opposite that you’re afraid of. That this image of self as someone floundering through life with all these worries and struggles, someone broken beyond measure, has just been that–an image. Something you made up to keep yourself safe somewhere along the way and really you could just change it all if you felt like that. If you threw off your cape of comfort and accepted the help you’ve so long denied. 

“I just,” you start, rubbing at a sore spot developing on your temple. You try to push through the sudden urge to bolt out of his office right now and not look back. “I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid but I feel like I fucked everythig up. Like it’s my fault, and maybe if I could have just talked to him or trusted that he lo–loved me despite our differences…maybe everything would have been okay.” The distinct prickling of tears starts to burn behind your eyes but you blink them away, not willing to give into them so easily. 

“Maybe,” he starts and you feel a pang of icy shock at the acceptance of this self-blame. You had expected the same pity and denial you get from Seulgi. You keep your gaze fixed on a small scuff on the top of his nice brown leather shoe, unable to meet his eyes as he continues. “Maybe if you had been able to accept that you are worthy of love from someone, regardless of your perceived flaws, or if you had been able to communicate more openly to be able to meet both of your needs within the relationship, maybe things would have been different.”

He pauses, whether for dramatic effect or to let you process what he’s saying, you’re not sure. You suspect the latter, but considering he’s a friend of Mingyu’s you can’t be completely certain. 

“Maybe, or maybe not. Maybe even if you had done everything perfectly and nothing had ever gone wrong you still would have broken up. A break up is not a failure–not of the relationship and not of the individuals within it. There is always the chance that you had just outgrown each other without either of you fully realising it, and that’s okay. We don’t examine our past to further deepen self-blame and pity, we do it so we can learn what we need from them and accept these lessons so we can carry them forward into our future. And that doesn’t mean that we won’t have more break ups or more perceived failures, it just hopefully means we will be able to accept them as part of the process instead of a barrier to it.” 

The speech slots itself into your brain, wiggling between long believed ideas and perspectives that had lived in there for years. Forcing its way in between them all. You feel it nestle in, planting its seeds until you can fully appreciate the thoughts he’s offering you. For now, you try to just fend off the part of you that resists everything he’s saying and listen to the (slightly quieter) part that knows you need to hear it. 

“Do you–” you start, pausing to clear your throat of the lump that had built up while he spoke. “Do you think I will be able to get to…to that point?”

“Yes,” he nods, decisive. “How long it takes, though, will depend entirely on how willing you are to change. The fact that you’re here meeting with me shows you are at least ready, in part, to begin the process of releasing these old thought patterns. But there is no magic pill, and it takes time and effort. I am here to help, but ultimately it’s only you that can make this change.” 

“And if I can’t change?”

“You can,” he says, shutting down the doubt immediately, “if you choose to.” Sensing your next question he continues, “and if you don’t then you continue life as you are and it changes you. The self is an adaptive state–always transforming. With or without my help or your conscious effort, change will happen. It’s just smoother a lot of the time if you can work with it instead of waiting for it to happen to you.” 

.

.

.

“This is really too much, Mingyu.” 

A plume of steam bursts out of the pot on the stovetop as Mingyu lifts the lid off to taste the sauce. He rears his head back to avoid the heat but still plunges his spoon-wielding hand into the steamy abyss to stir at the bottom of the liquid. 

You watch, leaning against the counter behind him, in a state of concerned bemusement as he takes a few minutes to adjust the heat on his various pots and pans. 

“What do you mean?” he asks, turning around and mopping the sweat off his brow with the dish towel he had draped over his shoulder. A few stray rivulets of steam trace their way down his neck and disappear into the collar of shirt. You try (unsuccessfully) to avoid thinking about the sheen on his skin as it glints in the light of the kitchen. 

“All this,” you gesture vaguely to the arranged on the table, the splatters of food on his well-worn “Kiss The Cook” apron (a gag gift from Jeonghan, apparently). ”I figured we would just…I don’t know, order some fried chicken or something,” you explain but his expression remains puzzled. “You know, just casual. It’s just Seulgi.” 

“Does she not like Italian?” he asks, a look of mild panic starting to etch into the corners of his eyes. “I knew I should have asked but I thought Italian would be the safest, most people like pasta but if she doesn’t–”

“No, no,” you cut him off before he can spiral further, “she likes Italian food, I’m pretty sure it’s one of her favourites actually, but I mean like…it’s just Seulgi.”

“But she’s your friend,” he states the fact like it should explain the fresh baked focaccia cooling on the counter behind him or the ludacris wine bill you got a look at earlier in the day. “Do you not like Italian food? If you really want fried chicken we can order some.” 

One of the pot lids sputters with the force of steam it’s holding back and you choke back a laugh as Mingyu whips around to stir it back into submission. 

“No, no, I love pasta I–” you pause, words dangling on the precipice of your lips, ready to say more, but you think better of it, remembering what Minghao had said at the end of your session about controlling outcomes. “Thank you for doing all this, I’m sure she’ll love it.” 

He grins wide, relieved, and you pack away your lingering worries before leaving him to battle the remains of dinner alone. 

The living room has transformed over the space of a few hours–soft lighting and soft blankets adorn the area and you’re greeted by the faint scent of grapefruit as Vernon moves around the room lighting a series of candles. 

“Are we proposing to her?” you ask, taken aback by the effort put forth by all of your roommates. 

“Do you think she’d say yes?” Vernon quips, turning around with a half-smile, and you roll your eyes.

When you had told them you were thinking of inviting Seulgi over for dinner (ostensibly to meet everyone, but more so to have a night with her where you didn’t have to bother leaving the comfort of your own home) they had reacted…minimally. Mingyu seemed excited at the prospect of hosting a dinner party and apparently had run wild with the power of doing so, but you didn’t think the other three had much cared beyond a vague curiosity about your friend. But even Jeonghan, who already knew Seulgi well, had gone to the trouble of purchasing flowers to liven up the living space. 

“I just don’t know why everyone is treating this like we’re having an idol over or something,” you shake your head, flopping down on the couch and letting your head fall back against the cushion. 

“Well,” Vernon says, taking a seat next to you, “to be honest, it’s mostly Mingyu that insisted on all of it.” 

“Why?” Curiosity bubbles up and you take a cursory glance back towards the kitchen where Mingyu is still standing, glistening over the stove top as he maneuvers various dishes and pots around. You knew he was prone to overdoing things like this if your first big meal with the household was anything to judge from, but why would he bother to go to such lengths just to impress your friend that honestly would have been more than happy with a plate of fried chicken and a cold beer.  

Vernon just shrugs before pushing himself off the couch into a full body stretch. “Well,” he says, “you know Mingyu.” 

I guess I do, you think, curiosity unsatisfied by the lack of answers. You know Jeonghan might give you more insight but whether it was truthful or if you wanted to bear the brunt of his scrutiny for even asking was another question. Instead, you try to just let it go and text Seulgi an inquiry into her ETA while you listen to the clamour of dishes in the kitchen as Mingyu finishes assembling his feast. 

Fifteen minutes and three introductions later, you’re all seated around the candlelit table passing around a dish of tajarin al tartufo. 

“Where did you even get white truffles at this time of year?” Seulgi asks, sipping gingerly from her glass of Chardonnay (specially chosen for the occasion). 

“I know some people in the industry,” Mingyu replies, tone casual–you can still see the glimmer of pride shimmering his eyes in the dim lighting however. 

“Oh, do you work in the culinary sector?” 

“No, not at all,” he shakes his head, “but I did a bit during school so I kept in touch with some people that way. Plus some of the people I graduated with ended up in the acquisitions side of the restaurant business.”

“Well,” she nods, setting down her glass, “I’m surprised honestly, this is like restaurant quality food. I wouldn’t have been shocked if you told me you were a chef.”

Mingyu brushes off the compliment with another laugh, but his smile again betrays how pleased he is by the validation. “It’s just a hobby, really. I like cooking for people.” 

“And we’re happy to benefit from it,” Jeonghan chimes in, “we’d surely be starving if it wasn’t for our private cook.”

“Hey, I can cook,” Seungcheol grumbles, reaching for another slice of focaccia. 

Jeonghan pats his arm with a solemn nod, acknowledging his skillset. “You’d get by fine, but these other two?” he gestures vaguely in yours and Vernon’s directions with a shake of his head, “hopeless.”

“Who needs to cook in this golden age of delivery?” Vernon asks, and you nod your agreement. 

“Someone on a broke actor’s wage, maybe.”

“Touché,” Vernon shrugs, uninterested in defending himself further. “Won’t be broke much longer though, I booked a gig for next week so get ready for riches beyond our wildest imaginations.”

“Oh congratulations, what’s this one? Another commercial for a dog grooming spa?”

“Nope,” Vernon says, brushing off the light dig at his resume, “a bit part in a drama on KBS. I’ve got a name and a line and everything.” 

“Riches beyond our wildest imaginations, hey?” Mingyu jokes, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Yeah, well, I don’t know what your imagination is like. It does pay though,” he shrugs, content to inhale another forkful of pasta.

“That’s actually great, Vernon,” you say, diverting the round of teasing towards something more supportive. “Congratulations.” 

“Thanks,” he replies, casual as always, “it's something at least. Saves me from having to go work retail for a bit anyway.” 

“Well, if you do need a job at any point after this my cafe is hiring, I just had to fire my last guy,” Seulgi says, setting her fork down at the side of her plate. 

“What happened this time?” you ask. You’ve been out of the loop of cafe drama for far too long. You were having trouble remembering if this was the same guy as the one that kept mixing up decaf and blonde roast. 

“He got in a fist fight with a customer.”

“What? Like…at work?” 

“Yeah,” she replies, dabbing at her mouth with the edge of a napkin. “To be fair the customer he beat up was sleeping with his girlfriend and he hadn’t exactly expected to see him there after finding out but still…it looks bad on me if I let it slide.”

“Still working at the cafe?” Jeonghan asks, “what happened to the start up?”

Seulgi grimaces and you can feel the annoyance seeping through her pores at the mention of her old job, the bitterness from the whole fiasco still running deep in her veins. “It went tits up, and turns out the CEO was embezzling money from the company so there weren’t even any severance packages. Haven’t been able to find anything since then, it’s a nightmare.” 

“You work in tech?” Mingyu asks, leaning over to refill Seulgi and your wine glasses, finishing off the last of the bottle. 

“Software development,” she replies with a nod of thanks for the wine. 

“I might know someone hiring for Samsung, I could ask around for you if you want?” he offers, sitting back down in his chair across from you. 

“You know someone that works at Samsung?” she balks and you watch her expression shift to open excitement at the possibility. 

“I do,” he nods, “he was a nepotism hire, honestly, his dad is head of logistics but he owes me a huge favour so I could ask.” 

“Mingyu,” she says, eyes narrowed to fine points as she stares at him from across the table, “I will give you my first born child in payment.” 

“Oh, uh–” he laughs, a tinge of colour reddening the tips of his ears. “It’s no big deal, really. Just happy to help a friend.” 

His eyes flicker towards yours in the candlelight and you offer him a soft smile of approval. The look does not go unnoticed by Jeonghan, a slow, sly grin spreading over his features as he drains the last of his wine. Conversation drifts, continuing to flow throughout the hour, as time melts away with the candle wax dripping onto the table cloth.

Once the food is polished off the group moves into the living room to play some games and to no one’s surprise, Seungcheol ends up winning most of the rounds of Jenga through sheer intimidation alone. Seulgi, however, does manage to best him at Uno which immediately results in a half-pouted plea for a one-on-one rematch. Vernon excuses himself to head to bed early for an audition in the morning and Jeonghan lingers behind to watch the match, betting on Seunghceol’s downfall much to the man’s chagrin. 

You stay for a minute, watching the cards fly across the table with a vengeance, before your attention shifts to the sounds of running water and clinking of dishes coming from the kitchen. Mingyu took the revenge match as an opportunity to clean up from dinner and a pang of guilt bounds through you at the thought of him doing both the cooking and cleaning for the night entirely alone. 

“Do you want a hand?” He’s hunched over the sink as you enter the kitchen and walk towards him–tall frame bending to accommodate the height of the counter, scrubbing at a stubborn spot on a pot. 

“You don’t have to,” he replies, glancing over his shoulder, “I can handle it.” 

“Mingyu, you already cooked for everyone, the least you can do is let me dry them or something.” 

He evaluates you for a moment, confirming that your offer isn’t born purely from pity, before nodding, “alright, these pots are clean already if you want to start there.”

You nod and grab a clean tea towel from the drawer next to the stove, moving to stand hip to hip with him at the sink. You work in companionable silence, nothing but the squeak of soap on porcelain and the distant complaints of Seungcheol as Seulgi hits him with another pick up 4 card. 

You had never hosted any gatherings at your apartment with Wonwoo. Not that it was ever something he said he didn’t want, it just never came up. He tended to use his home as a retreat from the world and while you loved a good get together, you weren’t much of a host yourself, preferring instead to just join in when invited. Tonight was your first real, adult dinner party and while you hadn’t actually been much of an active participant in the planning of said party, it still felt like you had some ownership over it.

Now, standing here in tandem with Mingyu, cleaning up while your guest and other roommates were occupied with each other, you had to admit that there was something so comfortably domestic about the whole thing. You were surprised at how natural it felt, and you knew that if you let your mind amble down the path of no return, you would find yourself in this same position over and over again in your imagination. Scrubbing pots next to the man that had just fed you and your friends pasta.

“Did you have a good time?” Mingyu asks, sensing your thoughts and cutting them off at the head before they can get the best of you again.

You pick up the last pot in the stack, letting your hands continue working as you nod, a soft smile gracing your lips, “I did, yeah. It was really nice.”

“Good,” he sighs, letting a soft laugh out with his breath, “I’m glad. Wasn’t too much in the end, then?” 

“No,” you reply, soothing the hint of insecurity in his question. “It was perfect. Sounds like Seulgi had a good time as well.” 

“That’s a relief,” he says, dipping his hands back into the sink to finish wiping off the last few plates. 

“Were you worried she wouldn’t?” you laugh, slightly incredulous at the lack of confidence coming from a man who just cooked you a Michelin star worthy dinner. 

“No, I just,” he laughs again, hesitation creeping back into his voice. “I wanted to make a good impression.”

“I don’t think you could have made a bad one,” you mumble, wiping your hands off on the tea towel before hanging it on the cupboard hook to dry out. 

“Well, that’s good,” Mingyu says, angling his body towards yours after pulling the plug in the sink drain, “because I…” he pauses, hesitant. You turn to face him, watching as he tugs the hot pink kitchen gloves off his hands and sets them down at the side of the sink. A faint blush is spreading out over his cheeks and for a second you wonder if he might not be feeling well. 

“Mingyu–” you start–unsure whether to inquire about his well being or just to prompt him to continue. He raises his gaze to meet yours and you get the distinct feeling that he just made some sort of decision, come to some resolution within himself. 

“Listen, I…” he starts and you maintain his gaze, heart picking up pace in your chest as your thoughts fly at a mile a minute trying to guess what he’s about to say. “I’m sorry if this is too forward or something, but the whole reason I went to all of this trouble tonight was for you.” 

“Me?” 

“I like you,” he blurts the words out without ceremony, stumbling over them as they tumble from his mouth. You stand still, a few feet away from him, in shock as the laughter from the living room fades to a distant murmur. “I think you’re beautiful, and funny, and smart and I would like to get to know you more and I know you’re still getting over a break up so I’m not trying to…pressure you or anything. And I know that maybe this is super awkward given that we live together and everything, but I just needed to tell you before I start to feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“Oh.” It’s the only word you can manage. You feel like your brain is stuck on a loading screen as your mouth frantically tries to hit refresh. Nothing happens. You’ve lost connection.

“And if you don’t feel the same now, or ever, that’s okay. But I just needed to tell you that,” he sighs, “that I like you. And I’m very interested in you, and I get the feeling that you are also interested in me but if I’m wrong or it’s too soon then that’s okay. I can wait. Or not. Up to you. But…I like you.” 

“I, umm…” You try. Try to form a coherent thought or sentence but nothing comes to you. Internally, you’re screaming at yourself. Isn’t this what you wanted? Haven’t you been pining after this man since you moved in here? What’s the hold up now? 

All these questions, self chastisements, and more come spilling forward in your brain. A flood of confusion clouding all your judgement as you stand frozen in the middle of the kitchen in front of a man that is still waiting for you to reply to him. A man that has just laid all his cards out on the table for you to see. No tricks, no reversals, just ‘I like you’ in plain language. No guesswork. And still, all of your fears and worries and anxieties overwhelm you anyway. 

“You don’t have to say anything now,” he says, finally, giving up on waiting for your brain to kick in. “But, if you do…feel the same…you know where to find me. And if not then,” he laughs, attempting to clear away some of the awkwardness lingering in the air as a result of your inability to speak, “then I hope we can still be friends and I haven’t…made this too weird or anything.” 

A loud uproar booms out from the living room–Jeonghan’s victorious laughter accompanied by Seungcheol’s cries of devastation. Another win for Seulgi. Mingyu glances behind you towards the sound before smiling and brushing past you, leaving you to pick up your jaw from the tile floor. 

“I really have to go now,” you hear Seulgi say–closer behind you now as the games draw to a close. You snap to attention, shaking off your temporary paralysis, and turn to rejoin the group feeling like an entirely different person than when you had left them barely 30 minutes ago. 

“One more game, all or nothing,” Seungcheol urges, but she shakes her head. 

“I don’t think you can afford to lose another one,” she says with a smile, “and I really need to get back home, I’m opening in the morning. Thank you for the dinner, Mingyu, it was great. And I look forward to hearing from you friend.” 

“Of course,” he replies, the picture of a good host. He hands her her coat from the hallway closet before wishing her a good night and disappearing towards his bedroom. After some prompting Jeonghan and Seungcheol follow suit. 

Seulgi turns to you with a smile, but it falls from her face the second she sees the slightly dumbfounded expression still plastered on your own. “Are you ok?” 

“M-me? Yeah, fine, I just…” you pause, wavering on the option of telling her what just happened but the second you get close to the confession you stall. You don’t want to. Not yet. Not until you’ve reckoned with it on your own. “I think I’m just coming down with a cold.”

“You have a terrible immune system,” she says, shaking her head. “Well, good night then. Call me tomorrow, hopefully you feel better after some rest.” 

“I will, I will,” you nod, opening the door for her as she slips into her shoes. “Text me when you get home.” 

She waves a final goodbye and you watch her walk towards the elevator before closing the door and twisting the lock. With a sigh you lean against the solid wood, grateful for the support as you continue to try to regather your wits. Mingyu’s confession replays, over and over like a highlight reel in your mind.

This is a good thing, isn’t it?

© 2024, neoneun-au. all rights reserved.

―AUTHOR’S NOTE: i cant link them here, but please find the series masterlist and other chapters on my blog. i would love to know your thoughts on the story so far !

[simpforboys]

my voice will haunt you

drew starkey x fem!musician!reader

summary: during an award ceremony, you honor your grandmother, stevie nicks. but freshly after a breakup, emotions cant help but rise. works for biological or adopted!

warnings: angst, fluff ending, swearing, teasing (the camera men are kinda fucked up), drew and reader are heartbroken but it’s fine, not proof read

listen to silver springs (live) by fleetwood mac!

the pounding in your heart never left until your newly manicured hands clutched the microphone in front of you.

despite your shining smile, your chest ached with fear as the hundreds of celebrities and their families stared at you, front and center of the big stage.

bright lights illuminated your frame, the extra bits of the fabric designed to look like fairy wings hung against your skin.

“hello to the grammys!”

the crowd erupted into cheers as you pulled your face from the mic, sucking in a nervous breath.

“i’m y/n l/n, and with the celebration of my newest album, dread, the grammys have invited me to play tonight.”

you spoke confidently to the crowd, used to performing as your career took off with the help of your grandmother.

any other time you would kill to play for the grammys, but now you all you could feel was dread, because you knew he was here.

“some of you may be familiar with my wonderful grandma, Stevie Nicks…”

as the crowd began to clap and cheer in honor of the legendary woman, your eyes subconsciously began searching the room in hopes you’ll find the deep blue color you became so familiar with.

but he was watching, a pained look hidden deep within his eyes. but he shifted in his seat, feeling a pat on the back from his co-star, Johnathan.

he barely blinked, the aching feeling in his heart deepening. but he was scared that if he closed his eyes for even a second, you would disappear. but then you spoke again.

“so i invite you all to sing with me if you know this iconic song.” you grinned at the crowd, the cameras panning onto the celebrities and artists in their respective seats.

taking in another breath, you heard the okay in your ear piece. as the band began to strum the introduction, you opened your mouth to begin.

“you could be my silver spring, blue-green colors flashing, i would be your only dream,”

Drew felt chills run down his spine as your voice lingered in the crowd. he missed your voice, your personality, your everything.

“your shining autumn ocean crashing, and did you say she was pretty? and did you say that she loves you?”

a tang shot through his body from the lyrics, remembering the reason you two broke up. you had overheard Drew telling his sister that he was conflicted, and while he loved you, Odessa was someone who enticed him.

he felt his eyelids become heavy as he closed his eyes, letting his head hang low a bit. he could feel Madelyn’s eyes drift over to him, knowing that the lyrics meant everything to you both.

“baby, i don’t wanna know. i’ll begin not to love you, turn around, see me running. i say i loved you years ago, tell myself you never loved me, no.”

you picked the microphone up from the stand, beginning to walk around the stage as your vocal cords became deeper, stronger.

Rihanna blew you a kiss as you walked past her, in which you smiled at the gorgeous woman.

unfortunately, it was no shocker that you and Drew recently ended off your three year relationship. being there from the beginning of Outer Banks season one, the fans adored the two of you, more after learning your grandmother.

so, when the news that the “it” couple of the Outer Banks cast got out, a lot of people took it seriously.

“and did you say she was pretty? and did you say that she loves you? baby, i don’t wanna know…oh, no…”

you looked elegant on the stage, your dress flowing as you walked. the band and background singers complimented your voice perfectly, making the performance extra special.

“and can you tell me, was it worth it? really, i don’t wanna know.”

Drew’s eyes returned to you, and it felt like you were specifically asking him the question, even though you were singing to a crowd of people.

and no, it wasn’t worth it. Drew never did anything with Odessa, but you didn’t want to be with someone who doubted their relationship with you.

and so you broke it off, deciding it would be best to have some space from each other.

and it was Drew’s biggest regret.

“time casts its spell on you, but you won’t forget me. i know i could have loved you but you would not let me.”

“time casts its spell on you, but you won’t forget me. i know i could have loved you but you would not let me.”

as you repeated the lyrics, you centered yourself in the middle of the stage once more. unbeknownst to you and Drew, the sneaky camera man zoomed in on Drew’s broken expression.

his eyes were ride, as if in a trance, never wanting to leave you. his usual cheerfulness gone, the sadness radiating off of him as the other celebrities and artists look turns glancing at the man.

“i’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you. you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman who loves you.”

you moved to the right side of the stage, approaching the table with Billie Eilish, Timothée Chalamet, Lady Gaga, Anne Hathaway, and Emma Stone.

Billie was singing along to the music, a proud smile on her face as she swayed.

but you felt your heart drop into your stomach with you realized that he was sitting right behind that table.

and as the music picked up, you locked eyes with the man, your skin erupting with goosebumps.

“i’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you. was i just a fool? you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you. was i just a fool?”

the crowd grew silent as it was just you and him in the moment, the guilt radiating off of both your bodies into the air. the sting in your eyes became more evident as your vision became blurry and you hadn’t noticed that all the cameras were locked in on the two of you, sharing your moment for the world to see.

“i’ll follow you down ‘til the sound of my voice will haunt you. give me just a chance. you’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.”

Drew stared at you with an expression no one has ever seen before; regret, love, and fear. and he just let himself feel, mourning the loss of your presence in his life.

as the background vocalists began to take off, you felt your feet moving back to the center of the stage, trying to compose yourself and not to break down in front of millions of people.

“you could be my silver spring, my blue-green colors flashing.”

as the music ended, the crowd erupted into cheers, everyone in the room standing and clapping.

you hadn’t even realized a tear had left your eye until the drip dangled off your chin, making you wipe it away as you grinned happily.

“thank you so very much for having me. i love you.”

and as the announcers retook the focus, you walked swiftly off the stage.

“you need to talk to her, dude.”

Chase whispered to Drew, everyone at the table staring at him. the man nodded, finally seeming to come back to reality, that you weren’t his girl anymore.

Drew excused himself from the table, knowing where the most likely place you would be at.

he knows that whenever you get overwhelmed you went outside and just listened. listened to the cars, the people, the earth.

so, when he saw you leaning against a wall underneath a large oak tree, he wasn’t surprised.

not knowing what to say, he just decided to lean next to you.

“hi.”

you said after a minute of silence, not bearing to look up at him.

“hi.”

he repeated, his chest heavy. he had so many thoughts and words he needed to say, but it seemed as if something was forcing him to stay quiet.

things had never been awkward between you two. even when you argued, you two always went to bed happy. he never wanted to upset you.

“you were amazing out there, y/n.”

he says, turning to face you. you gazed up at his face, twitching your nose as you fought back tears.

“thank you.”

your words were quiet, and he hated the way your lip trembled as you spoke. all he wanted to do was scoop you into his arms, kiss you all over, and tell you everything was alright. but he couldn’t.

“y/n, i’m sorry,” Drew said, taking you by surprise by his abruptness.

“i should have never doubted our relationship. i was a fucking idiot to ever believe we couldn’t make it. the truth is… i was scared. i was scared you would get tired of being with me, but in the end i lost you. i lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

as he ranted his apologies, all you did was stare up at him, retracing every single part of his gorgeous face.

“and i hope that one day you can find it in your heart to forgive me for giving up on us, when in reality the only thing i need in my life is you.”

“i love you, Drew. and these past few weeks have been hell for me. i want to marry you, to have kids with you, to grow old with you. but i need to know you’re hundred percent committed because i cannot go through another heartbreak like this with you again. i emotionally can’t handle it.”

“i swear to you, y/n. you’re the only girl for me, the only girl i’ll ever need in my life. there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, and i promise that. i promise myself to you. i love you so fucking much.”

you felt his large hands place themselves on your hips until your chests were pressed up against each other. your arms wrapped around his broad, muscular shoulders. he was wearing your favorite cologne, the one that always made your knees weak.

he leant his head down to capture your lips in his, missing your taste. and as the two of you kissed against the wall, the rest of the world drowned out, Drew knew that he would always keep his promise to you.

[pickingupmymercedes]

"dont ask me that" from yours and "i dont even know if any of that was real" from my own. one where lewis overheard a conversation between reader n her brother/family after his breakup with her. in which the breakup broke and changed her so much shes become a different person who just doesnt believe shes worthy for love anymore. and it hurts her so much that she cant even believe that any of her happy moments with lewis was real, maybe it was just a game for him. angst and pleasee sfw

Asshole Lewis incoming. He does try to make things a bit better in the end though.

Also, this is only the second time I write from his perspective, and it's hard ngl.

"dont ask me that" and "i dont even know if any of that was real"

The cacophony of the paddock was a familiar background noise as Lewis weaved through the throng of team personnel and sponsors; a practiced smile plastered on his face. Yet, the usual thrill of pre-race anticipation was muted. All he craved was solitude, anywhere he could escape the prying eyes of the media.

He ducked into a secluded corner; a sliver of shade offered by a towering hospitality suite. Quietness for a few seconds, only to be instantly replaced by a gut-punch of surprise. Y/n. She was just on the other side of the wall of tires, face illuminated by the glow of her phone, a serious expression etched on her features.

He should've known retreating wouldn't guarantee escape. And the sight of her, so unexpected, made him suddenly regret his decision and long for the fans and media.

But he couldn't help eavesdropping. It wasn't intentional, not at first. Her voice was laced with a vulnerability he had only witnessed once before. The other voice on the conversation was her brother, he gathered, and his tone was laced with concern.

“You sound exhausted, Y/n,” the man's voice cutting deep into the silence. “Seriously, you need to take a break. The team won’t crumble without you”

Y/n sighed, the sound so different from the girl he remembered. “I’m fine, busy season. That’s all.”

“Is it just the work, or…” He trailed off, the question hanging heavy.

“Don't ask me that,” Y/n cut him off, her voice cracking slightly, and Lewis winced. That wasn't the Y/n he knew. The bubbly, optimistic girl who'd lit up a room with her smile.

Lewis felt a pang of guilt. He knew exactly who she was trying to avoid mentioning. The one who'd left without a real goodbye, the one who'd taken a piece of her with him.

“You know I can't help you if you don't talk about it,” her brother continued gently.

“There’s nothing to talk about” Y/n said, a hint of defiance creeping in. “It’s over. And honestly, maybe I’m glad it is. I don't even know if any of that was real for him.” The anger in her voice barely masked the underlying hurt.

The air grew thick, suffocating. His blood turned to ice. The weight of his actions, the cowardly way he'd ended things before they could get too serious, slammed into him. He'd been the one afraid. Afraid to let himself care, afraid to risk another heartbreak. He'd ended things abruptly, afraid of getting too attached, afraid of the very thing Y/n was now questioning – how real their connection had been.

“Focus on your career, then,” her brother said. “It’s the one thing that won't let you down.”

“Yeah,” Y/n agreed, her voice distant. “At least I can trust that.”

A few days later, a bouquet of lilies arrived at Y/n's desk. Nestled amidst the pristine white blooms was a small card. The note was short, filled with a remorse he couldn't express in words:

"Y/n,

Those moments were real, to me. I never meant to led you on but I was too afraid to admit I was letting myself get too close. I hope you find someone who’s unapologetic about his feelings. You deserve the world.

Lewis."

______________________________________________________________

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[pachimation]

redrawing my very first chiscara comic/art i ever did for chscr day!!

old comic under the cut!!

lol a bunch of sappy semi serious stuff below bc i cant help but be a bit genuine about this ship today :’3

i cant possibly put into words how important this silly little ship and its community mean to me haha,,,, this comic was made in 2021 but i didnt really get serious about chscr until late 2022 after a bunch of pretty bad interpersonal stuff happened and i needed an outlet,, COINCIDENTALLY a certain someone was announced to be playable around then and i was already thought chscr was Pretty Neat™️ so i ended up diving headfirst into the ship. it also gave me a good excuse to work on more comics too!! i’d done a pretty big zhongven comic earlier that year in the summer, but in terms of lore there was only so much i could have worked with at the moment.

childe and scaramouche have that perfect combination of silliness and angst and violence that could be explored or expanded in so many ways and i love love love seeing other people’s interpretations of their dynamic and relationship. they’re so complex,,,,they’re narrative foils,,,they’re narrative parallels,,,they’re trans allegories,,,they’re flies in the spiderweb of the games lore,,,they’re my stupid little meow meows,,, they’re just two losers i want to see make out,,,

in a nutshell, they’re everything to me. well, i hope i get that kind of sentiment across in my own comics,,,,

and i cant get started on all the people ive met through chiscara or the way that having something i can call “my thing”, as in, the thing that i like and that i will spend a lot of time and effort (and money, but lets not talk about that) to surround myself with because it makes me smile. its stupid to say, but being a nerd about these two stupid guys who have never had a single canon onscreen interaction in some random game has made me a much happier and confident person that i could have ever imagined back in my freshman year of college,,, when i say i dont know who i’d be if i hadnt gotten into chiscara, i really do mean it lol

i’m actually surprised i’m making it to over a full year of regular-ishly making art, especially for the same game and ship! thats never happened before and my art has improved so much over this past year!! more than anything else, i’m happy! i get to be excited talking about these characters with my friends and i love to see art of them pop up on the tl. i make stickers of them and decorate my phonecase with them and have little figures of them in my room that i look at when im up late at night working on schoolwork. sometimes just the thought of finishing a comic or daydreaming about a scenario or seeing what my mutuals are up to are some of the few things getting me through a tough day.

,,,,so believe me when i say, to both childe and scara and to everyone else as obsessed with these pathic losers as i am, thank you! i’m having a lot of fun!!!

(also i just found out tumblrs copy/paste doesnt work on my ipad??? idk if this ends up legible i may or may not have deleted smth by accident and im not in a mood to proofread haha)

[deathbxnny]

Alright! Here it is!

Can i request the Hashiras (Kyojuro, Giyuu, and Sanemi) reacting to their s/o reader giving him a lock of their hair to him? Historically, giving a lock of one's hair to someone has been considered a sign of love and devotion, especially before an impending parting. So what if the reader is giving their lock of hair bc they know their lover will be on a particular long mission.

I hope this is a good request to start of your return. Also yeah, i’ve been doing well! Although i cant lie im not worried on some stuff (Chainsaw man’s new chapters worries me, also did you know that Reze’s arc will get a movie and idk if im ready for the heartbreak T.T)

But regardless of that, hope you have a good day/night though!

- Flower Anon 🌸

Hello there, Flower Anon! Thank you for your cute request, I love it so much! And yeah, I'm getting very worried over Dennis myself and have heard about the movie. I'm actually a manga only reader for CSM and will probably not watch it, because the heartbreak was bad the first time, but it's cool to hear about! Also, I'm glad you're doing well otherwise and hope you'll like this!<33

Content: Small angst, fluff, Reader is not a demon slayer, established relationship, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns!

((Not fully proofread))

☆Rengoku Kyojuro☆

Kyojuro, despite his passion for his work, hated leaving you behind for longer missions. He knew it hurted you more than any wound could ever hurt him and yet, the call of a crow meant his next departure was near. He tried dragging it out for as long as he could, showering you in affection and making sure you're well taken care of whilst he's gone. But eventually, you two found yourself standing at the estate's gates together once more.

He frowned at your teary gaze, when you suddenly held out something to him. "Oh!" He blinked, noting with ease that it was a lock of your hair, wrapped in a red ribbon. He chuckled, as he grabbed it carefully and made sure you saw the way he pinned it to the inside of his haori, right over his heart. He felt an even stronger fire burn through him, his heart full and heavy with his love for you. It was the first time, he ever considered abandoning his duties just to stay with you for a while longer.

But the impatient call of a crow made him refrain only barely and sigh. He put on a wide smile, a kiss pressed to your lips, before he finally turned and began leaving. He waved to you, the sun setting and making his bright eyes shine for you.

"Thank you for this beautiful gift, my love! I'm bound to come home even faster now, with you even close to my heart!"

☆Tomioka Giyuu☆

Giyuu sighed to himself in defeat, when the crow told him about his next mission. He didn't want to leave the peace he had for the last three weeks with you. But duty calls, despite him wishing it would just stop already. He moved slowly, his hands calmly fastening his Nichirin swords to his waist, dark blue eyes meeting your solemn and sad one's. He knew, that you didn't want him to leave either.

You got closer to him then, your hands replacing his, as you began helping him. It's what you often did before his departures, a way of spending time with him for one last time, just in case it took longer than it should. It was a grim reality you two didn't like facing, but reality kept you from getting too far away.

Giyuu's eyes widened ever so slightly when you suddenly tied a small charm to one of his swords. But on further inspection, he realised that a lock of your hair was attached to it. He looked up at you, but you didn't meet his gaze, perhaps out of fear of crying the moment you did.

His hand grasped yours once you were done, his lips pressing against them in a silent thank you. His heart warmed at your gesture, despite him not fully showing it. There was hesitation in the way he let go of you afterwards, but the soft words he spoke, before departing at last, said enough, even if not alot.

"I'll return to you."

☆Shinazugawa Sanemi☆

Sanemi was in a frustrated hurry to get ready, his hands quick to grab all necessary gear and clothing items for his immideate need to leave. There was an emergency mission in a far away village and he had to be there, much to his secret dismay. He had just come back from a longer mission two weeks ago and now he's forced to leave you again? He hated it, you ofcourse did as well, despite never voicing it.

He hissed out a string of curses, when he couldn't find his Haori, until you suddenly appeared next to him with it in hand. He gave you a thankful nod, as you helped him put it on, but also slipped something into his hand, whilst he finally left in a hurry, which he shoved into his pocket quickly. Thankfully he was able to steal a kiss on his way out, secretly noting to spoil you once back ofcourse.

He only looked at what you gave him, when he finally had the time to take a break. His hand reached into his Haori, humming in confusion at the sight of a silver locket. Carefully opening it, he froze when he saw a lock of your hair. Scarred fingers carefully reached to brush against it, before he sighed and shook his head.

He missed you.

Getting up, he felt restless and frustrated again, as he gathered up his things once more. He needed to get this mission over with. He can take a break, once he's in your arms again. Pushing the locket back into his pocket, he continued on his way, motivated for his need for you.

"I'm going to personally send that damned demon back to hell for you, I swear it..."

Thank you again for the great request, Flower Anon! I absolutely loved writing this and hope you enjoyed it too!<33

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Somewhere I Belong (werewolf bucky)

Summary: You're woken up in the middle of the night to your husband freaking out about the villagers finding his wolf form.

Warnings: Angst

WC: 324

A/N: this is a SUPER old drabble i'd had on an older tumblr I had (im still kicking myself for deleting that blog, i cant access any of the fics I had on there because of them being stuck under readmore)

Read Benny Lafitte Version Here

Read this on A03!

--

“Y/N!” you were awoken roughly by your husband roughly, shaking your shoulder.

You grumbled a response, pulling the pillow over your head, trying to resume your sleep.

“Y/N!” Bucky’s panicked voice shook you awake once more. “Now isn’t the time to sleep! We need to leave! Now!”

“What are you on about James?” You groaned, peeking out from the pillow to gaze at your husband. but at a second glance, you noticed the panic on his face. “Buck?”

“You have to go.” he pleaded with you, glancing down at your swollen belly. “They’re coming for me.”

“What the hell did you do?” You asked, throwing the duvet away from you and stinging on the cold stone flooring of your bedroom.

“They found out my birthright,” he explained. “Something about my eyes glowing; I don’t know.”

“Did someone make you angry?” you asked, pulling on your coat.

“Now’s-” he became quiet as his spine straightened up. You knew he was listening to something far away, something your human ears couldn’t pick up easily. “You have to go. Take our unborn child and go. Don’t look back. Don’t come back for me.”

“Bucky…” you pleaded. “No.”

“For the love of Odin, Y/N”, he snapped before roughly kissing you on the mouth and forcing your suitcase in your hands. “Go!”

You knew he had his mind made up as you took the suitcase from his shaking, quivering hands and took a step farther and farther away from him and closer to the door. By the time you were partially out of the village, you heard your husband’s cries for help.

It took you all the strength in your body to not turn around and storm back into the house. He wanted you safe and away from the violence of the villagers.

And you’d raise your unborn child alone, hoping that they would be a normal child and not a werewolf such as your husband.

[indigogvf]

How can you not see it?

Authors note: this is my first time writing smut!! Any feedback/thoughts are much appreciated but please be nice :)

Warnings: 18+, minors dni. Angst (i cant help myself🤭), fluff, drinking, swearing. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 2.7k

Summary: After being fuck buddies with Josh for a few months, he begins to act out when he sees a man buy you a drink. Is this little arrangement between you over, or does it turn into something more?

You walked up to the bar, standing there for no longer than two seconds before an unfamiliar arm snaked around your waist. “This one’s on me. A pretty girl like you shouldn’t be paying for their own drinks, hm?”

‘Okay, gross…’ you thought, turning to look at him. He had dark brown hair that was gelled to the side, brown eyes with slight stubble on his face. I mean, he wasn’t ugly, but that pick-up line was plain nasty.

“I’m okay, thanks though.” You presented a closed lipped smile in hopes that your bluntness would deter him.

You were wrong.

“C’mon, just one drink. I’ll leave you alone after that, I promise.” He asked, looking at you hopefully.

‘Maybe he isn’t so bad, I mean that’s a pretty reasonable offer.’ Looking over the man’s shoulder, you caught Josh’s eyes burning into you.

“Okay, just one drink, but you have to leave me alone after that.” Accepting his compromise, you took a seat at the bar whilst he ordered you a drink. You caught Josh’s eyes again, noticing that he appeared to be angry. You and Josh have been sleeping together for a few months now, but so far, it has been nothing serious.

It happened at the end of the last tour, when he was pent up after a show and had absolutely no shame in asking for your help in the midst of his desperation. There was no denying that Josh is attractive, and you’d always had a small thing for him, so you happily obliged. But then, it carried on, which isn’t necessarily a problem, but he’s a very confusing person. You know that he’s only using you for a quick fuck, but considering your friendship, you assumed he’d have a tad more respect. You are painfully aware that sex is all it is to him, but you can’t help feeling hurt at times, especially when he has no shame in chatting up random girls when you go out somewhere. You’ve had plenty of opportunities to do the same, but stopped yourself out of respect for Josh.

However, it had been a week since you and Josh last had sex, and the guy currently chatting you up seemed nice enough. You didn’t have any intention of sleeping with him, but it was nice to share a drink with someone, even if it was not the person you wanted to be with.

You finished your drink and said your goodbyes to the guy at the bar, who you never actually caught the name of. Or maybe you did… you can’t remember, and truthfully, you don’t really care. You headed back to the group, which only consisted of you, Josh, Jake, Danny, and Sam. “Who was that?” Jake asked, sharing an intrigued look with the rest of them.

“Just some guy, he said he’d buy me a drink and then leave me alone. Seemed like a fair deal and he was nice enough.” You looked around, and it seemed like your answer was satisfactory. Until you landed on Josh, who was still wearing the same grumpy look. You frowned at him, wondering what his problem was. He caught your gaze and rolled his eyes.

‘What is his problem?’ You thought, frustrated with the lack of communication.

“Where are we going after this?” You asked, trying to avoid Josh’s stare.

“You’re not going home with that guy?” Josh asked, hints of sarcasm seeping through his already harsh tone. You were dumbfounded, Josh never acts this way.

“Excuse me?” You asked, pure confusion evident in your tone.

“I don’t know. You seemed pretty content with him.” You looked around trying to gauge everyone else’s reaction, which was seemingly the same as yours.

“I already told you, he bought me one drink and promised to leave me alone. If he hadn’t made the promise of leaving me alone I would have been opposed to the idea, but he did. It was a harmless drink.” You spoke calmly despite the anger that was flowing through your veins.

‘This is unbelievable! Since when is this a problem for him? He has no issues chatting up girls, but when I have a harmless drink with someone he acts like I’ve committed adultery in a marriage that doesn’t even exist.’ You were fuming, but doing a good job of hiding it.

“Could’ve fooled me” he responded, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“Josh, chill out. Let’s just go back to mine because it's the closest.” Danny pipes up. You weren’t even sure you wanted to stay out after the way Josh has been acting. It was awkward now, no one was really sure of what to say because no one knew what was wrong.

“I think I might just head home for the night. This has been really nice though, we need to make more of an effort to do this more often.” You hoped that they wouldn’t question it. Josh had entirely sucked the fun out of the night and your mood to socialise had gone down the drain. They all protested, asking you to stay just a couple more hours. Josh stayed silent, confirming that he was still in his pathetic little mood. That gave you even more reason to leave, so you did. You all said goodbye and they subtly told you to just ignore Josh and that he’d get over whatever was bothering him.

As soon as you got home you stripped from your restricting skirt and top and got in the shower. The warmth felt so good, releasing all the built up tension from Josh’s digs at you. It started to dawn on you that maybe the whole arrangement you had with Josh was a bad idea. Realistically, it’s never a good idea to sleep with your friends without the intention of more. But, it was going fine, it hadn’t affected your friendship at all until now. You wonder what had changed.

You reluctantly got out the shower and put on your comfiest pyjamas. Then, you ordered some takeout, which is a necessity after a night of drinking. It was still quite early and you weren’t going to go to sleep for a few more hours, so you poured yourself a nice, full glass of wine. You heard a knock at the door before you could enjoy.

‘That was quick…’ you opened the door and was met with Josh’s familiar face. ‘Fucking brilliant.’

“What do you want now? To ruin the rest of my night, too?” You asked. He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“No, I was going to apologise but it seems you’re still clinging on to whatever it was I did.” You audibly laughed in his face.

‘Unbelievable. Is he serious? This is so obviously because the rest of them forced him to come and apologise.’ You theorized.

“Seriously, Josh? You were rude. You have no problems chatting up women at bars and I never bat an eyelid. Was it shitty to watch? Sure! But I have no reason to stop you because we are not together. We fuck Josh, that’s the extent of it. We’re friends who fuck. Why is it a problem when I have a drink with someone? I was never going to agree in the first place out of respect for you. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to go home with someone, but I haven’t, because despite the fact that we aren't together, we’re friends. But it’s only fair if I get to talk to other guys. I don’t know what your problem is, but our little arrangement is done. It’s clearly affecting our friendship and you seem to be able to get a good fuck whenever you want, so you obviously don’t need me for that. Now, if you’re not going to sincerely apologise for your pathetic behaviour, I’d like you to leave before my food gets here.” He stared at you, mouth agape in shock. All of the emotions you just poured out started to sink in, and it’s became overwhelming. You hold back the tears and wait for him to respond.

‘Why is this getting to me so mu-‘

“I love you! Jesus, how can you not see it? I’m head over heels for you. Have you never noticed how I always take care of you after we have sex? I stay with you every single time. Have you never noticed the way I look at you every opportunity I get? Have you never thought about why I always get you the most meaningful gifts compared to everyone else? Or why I always sit next to you when we go out? I’m in love with you. I never meant for us sleeping together to become a regular thing, but having you as something more than a friend was better than just being seen as a friend by you, even if it was just as a fuck buddy. The way I acted tonight was wrong and unfair, and you’re right. You should be able to talk to whoever you want because that’s exactly what I do. I’m sorry.”

You were shocked to say the least, but it made sense. Everything made sense. You love him. That’s why it always bothered you to see him talking to other girls. As you stared at him completely baffled, your food arrived, which was honestly perfect timing. It brought you back to reality. You invited Josh into your home and sat down with him, “please say something, you’ve been silent for way too long”

“I’m sorry. I just- it all makes sense now.” You thought about the best way to go about this. You weren’t exactly planning on admitting your feelings for Josh tonight, specifically because you are admitting to feelings that you didn’t even realise you had until five minutes ago. ‘Fuck it.’ “I love you too. I didnt even realise, but it makes sense. It hurt to see you talk to other girls, knowing you could pull any of them whenever you wanted. I just didn’t put the pieces together.” You stared up at him, and you couldn’t stop yourself.

You grabbed his collar and pulled him into you, kissing him with so much force that it made your head spin. He gladly reciprocated. Your mouths moved in sync as his tongue swiped your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you granted. He pushed you further into the couch, and you wrapped your legs around his waist bringing him in closer. This felt so different; it wasn’t just need and desperation; the atmosphere was filled with love and passion. He groaned into your mouth as you started grinding your hips on him, looking for some type of friction to ease the aching sensation. You could feel how hard he was.

He pulled away to remove your top and groaned when he realised you weren’t wearing a bra. “Fuck. You’re so pretty, mama.” You smiled at him as you moved your hands to his waist and attempted to unbutton his pants when he stopped you, “No. Let me make you feel good, first.” He removed your pants, leaving you completely naked below him. He ran his fingers through your folds collecting the wetness. “All of this for me?” You moaned at the feeling of his fingers on you, bucking your hips to try and get some friction on your aching clit.

“Only for you, Josh” he pushed a finger inside of you, eliciting a moan that was louder than intended. He was moving at an antagonizing pace. “Please, Josh.” You whined. You needed more, you were so desperate for something.

“Please what, baby?”

“I need more. Please.” He pushed another finger into you, increasing his speed. “Fuck! That feels so good.” You moaned. You could feel the warmth blossoming in your belly, getting closer and closer to your release. He knew it, he knew your body so well. He could feel you squeezing his fingers, and just as you were about to come, he removed them. “No! No, no. Please Josh. I was so close”

“Soon, mama. Let me take care of you.” he leaned in, kissing you much softer than before. You whined into his mouth, bucking your hips in an attempt to relieve your desperation. He was just as desperate as you, if not more. You could feel the heat radiating from his cock.

“I need you Josh. I need your cock, please.” You begged. He pulled down his pants along with his boxers and released his achingly hard cock. His head was red and dripping with pre cum, begging to be touched. You reached your hand down and stroked him delicately. “Fuck. Your hands feel so good, baby, but I need to be inside of you.” He lined his cock up with your entrance and bottomed out. You both groaned in sync. He was stretching you out so good.

“Please move Josh.” You begged, and he obliged. He moved slowly, picking up his pace. This was different, he was going slow but so deep compared to usual, where he would mercilessly fuck you. You used your legs that were wrapped around his waist to bring him in closer, digging your nails into his back. He moaned into your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. Your orgasm was approaching quickly after having it taken away a mere five minutes ago. It was so rushed but you couldn’t care less, you just needed him.

“Faster Josh, I’m so close. Fuck!” He did as he was asked, thrusting into you faster. He grabbed your leg and chucked it over his shoulder, somehow achieving an even deeper angle than before. “Jesus Christ, Josh. You feel so good.” Your head rolled back into the cushions behind you as you quickly approached your long awaited orgasm.

“You gonna come for me? Give it to me, mama. I need to feel you come around my cock.” Josh’s words of encouragement threw you over the edge and caused you to come, hard. You don’t even know if you were actually saying anything or if you were just making noises, but you didn’t care. He fucked you through it, picking up his pace as he chased his own orgasm. “I’m close, baby. Can you give me one more?” You nearly cried when he said that. You were beyond fucked out, the alcohol from earlier starting to tire you out.

“I can’t, Josh.” You whined. His hips were faltering now, giving him away. His eyes were screwed shut and his mouth was hanging open. “You can, I know you can. C’mon, mama. Just one more for me. You feel so good. Be good for me, please” his voice was strained, which encouraged you even more. You could feel yourself getting closer. He reached his hand down to your clit and within seconds you were coming again. You saw stars, your legs clamped around his waist even harder as you came. You were shouting his name like a mantra as he thrusted into you at a merciless pace, chasing his own release. You felt him twitch inside of you.

“Fuck! I’m gonna come” he groaned as he stilled inside of you, releasing his hot spurts of cum. His head dropped to the crook of your neck as he worked himself through his orgasm. You both stilled as you caught your breath and he rolled off of you.

He wrapped his arms around you and brought you closer, kissing your forehead gently. “I’m sorry for earlier. I love you.” You smiled up at him and ran your fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay. I love you too, Josh.” You cuddled into him.

‘This feels so right.’ He leaned down and pressed a delicate kiss to your lips whilst he caressed your face. He pulled away and his eyes were filled with nothing but love.

“How does a shower sound?” He suggested, a cheeky glint in his eyes. You grinned up at him and peeled yourself away from his embrace. “I’ll race you.” You giggled, quickly getting up and giving yourself a head start.

“Oh, you’re on!” He chased after you, laughing to himself.

‘This feels so right.’ He thought, too.

[milksnake-tea]

━━ morning in clear skies .

As a traveling merchant, Luocha is constantly on the move, rarely able to settle down in a place he can call home. But with you, he finds temporary relief.

luocha x gn!reader

contains: fluff !!!! lots of phys touch and kissing bc thats my thing, just waking up w my baby, if you squint u'll see a hint of angst

word count: 1.1k

a/n: cant believe this is my first oneshot/longer drabble for my man ANYWAYS THIS IS MY very very late BIRTHDAY FIC FOR MYSELF BECAUSE LORD I MIGHT BE TOUCH STARVED AND I LOVE LUOCHA ANDIUDFJNFION this is just me being down bad for 1k+ words my bad

Long and slender fingers trace the very edges of your face, their repetitive yet ginger motions pulling you from your sleep, lifting you from the dark sea of slumber in their embrace. You stir, squeezing your eyes tighter for just a moment as you slowly come to.

Your eyelids are heavy; it’s difficult to open them, and truthfully, you don’t want to. It’s comfortable here: the linen sheets lay loosely across your body, light enough so they aren’t suffocating, yet they trap heat as well as wool. The pillow that lays under your head sinks under your weight like a cloud.

But perhaps, what tempts you most is the man that lays at your side. Even without your sight, you can picture him so clearly. His breathing is soft, relaxed. Blonde hair tickles at your face as he shifts, and you imagine it splaying over his body like a waterfall of gold. His fingers, finally gloveless for once, leave the edges of your face and instead move to cup your cheek.

His thumb comes to rub under your cheek, his touch almost ticklish. A fond chuckle escapes him as you squirm, the sound like sweet honey to your ears, a baritone melody.

“Good morning to you too,” he muses as you finally peek your eyes open. Sunlight cascades over Luocha from the window besides your bed, bathing him in an almost divine glow. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was an angel sent down by the Beauty themself.

Gone is the heavy coat he usually wears, along with the rest of his daily attire. Instead, Luocha’s form is covered only by a thin, long-sleeved shirt that just barely hugs at him. His eyes gleam like the finest of emeralds, warm and tender with affection as he gazes at you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks. You nod drowsily, not yet ready to leave the comfort of your pillows. Luocha’s eyes crinkle knowingly - he knows all too well the pain of having to leave the bed.

He sits up, long hair falling as he does, but it's not long before he swoops down in a long, languid motion and captures your lips in a sweet kiss. He lingers there as if to savor it - the feeling of you against him - then pulls away, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

"You taste as wonderful as ever." You roll your eyes at his statement and he snickers. "I only speak the truth, love. You don't take me for a liar, do you?"

You shake your head, an amused smile creeping onto your face.

"Of course not."

You reach up towards him, pulling your arm from the blankets to caress Luocha's face. Your lover's eyes soften fondly, and he takes your hand in his own, nuzzling your palm, never breaking eye contact with you.

"Are you leaving?" you couldn't help but ask. Luocha sighed, his smile faltering.

Due to Luocha's career, he rarely stayed home - and when he did, it was never for long. He was like the Nameless of the Astral Express - always traveling, always searching, always wandering. Even at his "home" with you, his stay was temporary. Sooner or later, he'd pick up that blasted coffin of his again and set off into the cosmos, leaving you with nothing but calls and text messages for weeks on end.

"Now, don't give me that face," he says gently, thumbing at your eyes. "You'll get wrinkles."

He touches his forehead to yours, that emerald gaze enrapturing you, enchanting you, and you couldn't help but get lost in its forests.

"I'm not leaving," he assures you. "Not yet."

"How long?" you say. Luocha's eye twinkles.

"A month."

Luocha suppresses a laugh as he watches you slowly process his words. He doesn't have to wait long, for the drowsiness soon leaves your eyes and you visibly brighten, and Luocha swears he's never seen a better sight in the universe.

"You mean it?" you ask. There's excitement evident in your voice, yet also hesitance, as if this is all too good to be true. Luocha doesn't blame you; rarely does he get a weekend to spend with you, much less a month. After all, his clients are far less understanding than you are.

"Why wouldn't I- whoa!" Luocha barely manages to get the words out before you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you and the mattress. Laughter fills the room as the two of you tumble.

Somehow, one way or another, you ended up on top of him. Your legs straddled his waist, and your arms caged him between them. Luocha had always been a beautiful man, but by the Aeons, he'd never looked so tempting. His hair splayed out from under him like a halo, his face a tinge flushed and his shirt slightly lifted to reveal his stomach.

"Careful there," he says breathlessly, amusement and absolute adoration evident. "It would be a shame if you-"

He's swiftly cut off by your kiss, a startled yet pleased yelp escaping him. You decide to take advantage of his brief moment of vulnerability by sliding your tongue into his mouth. Luocha hums against you, closing his eyes and allowing you to do what you wanted with him.

Gradually, he lets himself sink into the mattress, obliging as you tilt his head up to deepen the kiss. While you have your way with him, his hands began to wander, reaching to hold your back and caress what skin he could find. His fingers are cold to the touch as they slide beneath your shirt, and you shiver at the feeling.

When you finally part from him, it's with great reluctance. A single string of saliva briefly connects the two of you before Luocha swipes out his tongue, breaking it as he licks his lips teasingly. You let out a exasperated yet fond sigh, dropping down on top of him so that you can nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

"Satisfied?" Luocha teases, letting out a small oomph! as you playfully hit his chest.

"Hardly," you scoff. You move so that you can look up at him from his shoulder. "There's a lot of lost time we need to make up for."

"I'm aware," he hums. "But there's no rush. We do have a month, after all."

"I suppose." You trail a hand over his chest, feeling as it swells and falls with every breath Luocha takes. Finally, it sinks in that he's here, he's still here and he will be here for an entire month.

You smile to yourself, your heart warming.

"I missed you."

Luocha closes his eyes, his grip on you tightening.

"I missed you too."

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[mrsriddlenott]

I just had this random thought of AngryBF!Harry x Fem!reader where she helps him through his anger in many ways.

masterlist

Warnings: Smut. Anger. Aggressive Sex. Regular 5th year “angst”.

“I just can’t get a break. I went all summer without a scrap of news, I’m behind on all my class work, and now Ron and Hermione seem to think I’m a bloody DADA teacher.” You and Harry sat on the edge of his bed as Harry held his head in his hands ranting. “It was all luck, why cant they get that. It’s not like I have any control over my life and when I’ll be attacked next.”

You and Harry had only been dating since the Yule Ball but were serious nonetheless. When he would need comfort after the death of Cedric Diggory and when no one could properly owl him, you were there. You were the guide that kept him from making too much of a scene, but with Umbridge pushing Harry every second with detention after detention, and denying every part of what happened last year, Harry was on edge even with you.

“Harry, you have to see where they’re coming from don’t you?”

“Not you too! Merlin of all people I thought you’d understand y/n!” Harry snapped often these days, you knew it wasn’t necessarily his words, you just wished he could calm down.

“I do understand Harry, but if I’m not going to be of any help, I’ll just go.”

“No y/n/n, you know thats not what I meant. I just can’t get even a bit of control anymore and it’s driving me mad.” And with that, you suddenly had an idea.

“Well, I can think of ways you can gain control cant you?” At the change in your tone Harry finally lifted his head to see you.

“What are you implying Darling?” His narrowing eyes were already dark with anger and he seemed unable to focus.

“Well I was thinking, next time you’re all strung out like this, you can always come to me. Don’t sit and yell at Umbridge just to get stuck in detention when you could be spending your time with me, Love.”

“Yeah, I like that idea y/n” Harry didn’t take a second to think it over as he seemed to light up with a bright smile, already over his prior annoyances.

At first it wasn’t anything inappropriate, after classes Harry would often storm into your dorm or pull you into his, already yelling about a DA meeting or something Snape or Umbridge did. You’d simply talk and cuddle until he was okay. Eventually Harry realized just how distracting kissing you was and before long would have you pinned to a wall with his lips on your neck at least once a week. When he had noticed how exhilarating it felt to be able to grab you from anywhere in the castle and drag you to his dorm just because he was mad, he simply couldn’t stop. He absolutely adored when you’d let go of control just for him.

And thats how you ended up here, on hands and knees in front of your very angry boyfriend.

“No one ever fucking listens, no one lets me speak…except you of course, hands.” His voice softened as he spoke directly to you. While you laid your hands on your naked back, laying yourself forward onto his bed, Harry took both your hands in one of his as the other lined himself up at your entrance, slowly letting his tip ease into you.

“I have less and less time for myself, I just want to be able to do what I want whenever I want,” Without warning Harry slammed into you fully, pushing himself forward and resting his bare chest on your back, lips next to your ear as he spoke, “That’s you of course.”

“Are you okay still? You remember what to say if you don’t want to continue, yes?” You nodded your head from where it was on his pillow, “Words Darling.”

“Yes, I say Snitch.” You were breathless already as you uncontrollably clenched around him, forcing a sharp sigh from the boy above you.

“Good girl” Harry whispered as he started an unrelenting pace, straightening himself and pushing your abdomen down with his hand on yours.

“You’re perfect y’know that? Bloody perfect stress reliever you are.” He laughed softly as his free hand roamed up and down your side.

He was pounding into you so hard his bed shook and the curtains began to part on their own. The sound of wet skin slapping together and your moans of Harry’s name filled the room.

He drove into you with force you had never felt before, he was quickly forcing you into your orgasm as his pace remained fast and hard against your g-spot.

“Fuck I wann- Ahh Fuck y/n I wanna look at you when I come.” Harry released your hands and held your waist tightly as he flipped you around plowing himself back in as if he never left.

Harry smoothed the hair off your sweaty forehead, keeping eye contact and smiling softly, before bending down to kiss you aggressively on the lips. His and your own moans being drowned by each others lips as he came inside you, your juices mixing as they slid out around him.

“Fuck, I’ve needed this all week,” Harry sighed breathlessly as he rested his head on your chest, not making any attempt of pulling out. As he yawned, you slipped your fingers through his messy hair smiling and breathing heavily, “I love you Harry”

“I love you too Darling”

~~

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