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#The further you're away from being a kid
iwonderwh0 · 8 months
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If there's one thing to thank anti hankcon discourse it's for the folks around their thirties gathering to tell the teens that they are, in fact, adult enough to decide for themselves who to fuck with and that they do, in fact, find older people attractive.
(And also collectively asking folks in their teens-to-early 20s to stop using the word p*dophilia when talking about literal 30+ years olds.)
Like really, throwing this words in relation to adults downplays its actual weight in its actual fucking meaning, and this is really scary. Age gap might be a controversial topic but not anywhere near it is a matter of comparable scale to what the word ped*philia stands for. Don't turn this word into a buzzword, I'm begging you.
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ervotica · 6 months
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hehe dark!rafe fucking jj's ex bc she spiraling after the break up and using hella drugs so he's just degrading & using her however bc she's beneath him and he can't help but record it and send it to the male pouge's
warnings; DARK, smut (18+ only), drug use, dub-con (r is HEAVILY under the influence and not very aware), throat fucking, fingering, slight daddy kink, breathplay, degradation (I may have gone insane with this one I fear)
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A cruel hand is splayed against the top of your spine where the base of your neck begins, subduing you enough to keep you from thrashing as Rafe curls his fingers against the spongy walls of your cunt. You're alight with pleasure, the lick of a flame igniting your every muscle as you gargle into the sheets below you; you're not entirely sure how you got here but your drug addled brain is too hazy with the white-hot euphoria he is so kindly granting you.
He groans at your blank eyes, breath hot on your skin as he licks a long line against the column of your throat and bites down, taking great enjoyment in the way you wriggle and whine.
"Please," you gasp out, that coil in your belly drawing tighter the longer he keeps his fingers nestled against that spot deep in your pussy that makes you scream.
"Please, what?"
"Please, daddy. Lemme cum."
"Attagirl." His grin is wolfish, teeth pointed and bared like a predator. "Little fuckin' whore, aren'tcha, kid? Bet Maybank never made you feel this good."
You shake your head vehemently, almost incomprehensible where you're drooling into the pillow beneath your balmy face.
He tweaks his fingers once more and suddenly the dull flame of bliss has roared to life, squeezing every one of your muscles like tendrils as you gush and your hole clenches around his thick digits.
The muted roar of white noise is all you can hear for a good while; eyes rolling, lashes fluttering, limp and spent from just one orgasm.
You don't see him next but rather you feel him. A thick mushroom head prodding against your swollen lips, the taste of bitter precum on your tongue as he feeds his cock down your spasming throat. A gag rips through you but he pushes past it, unfazed by your own discomfort as he chases the feeling of your tender gullet tightening around him.
"Yeahhh, that's good," he unabashedly moans, deep and gravelly. His cock pushes at the thin skin of your neck, flesh bulging as he settles your nose in the thatch of hair at his pubic bone, heavy sack pressing lewdly atop your gurgling mouth with every rut of his hips.
Bubbles of spit ooze from the corners of your stretched lips and then you're suddenly blinded by white light. The flash of a phone camera crowds your vision and Rafe doubles down, hips pistoning against your slack face as he groans and grunts, degrading insults pouring from his mouth.
"Dirty slut, all you're good for 's takin' dick, right? Just a filthy little hole for me to use when 'm bored."
You purl and choke around him in an effort to voice your complaints, but all it seems to do is spur him on further.
"G'na have this throat trained in no time, kid. You're my personal cocksleeve from now on."
He wrenches himself away despite being seemingly on the precipice of blowing his load; you gasp and whimper as he turns to prop the still recording phone on the dresser behind him, twisting a large handful of your mussed hair around his hand and dragging you across the expanse of the king sized bed. Your neck contorts in an odd sort of manner as he positions you with your head hanging upside-down from the side of the plush mattress. It gives him ample leverage to use you without care; he's not bothered if you pass out, he'll use you either way.
It's rough, borderline abusive, how he fucks your throat. Hard and fast and unrelenting despite your almost continuous retching and slapping feebly at his thick thighs. The bulge in the divot of the soft flesh only becomes more prominent, his spongy head pushing from the inside as though it's trying to rip through you.
His hand reaches between his own legs to plug your nostrils and a menacing chuckle hits your ears as your vision blurs and your eyes lose focus and roll to the back of your skull.
He lets up just as you're on the cusp of unconsciousness, dick never leaving your warm cavern as he reaches blindly behind him for the phone. Forearms dig cruelly into your ribcage as he props himself up and zooms the camera in on your sopping, swollen cunt, parting your petal soft lips and slipping two fingers inside to bully another orgasm from you.
"If I were you, Maybank, I'd have never given up this tight cunt," Rafe rasps. "Fucked the poor thing dumb, already. 'M keeping her."
He presses send before you can protest- not that you'll ever be able to. You'll be too cockdrunk to ever notice what he's done.
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bunnysbrainrot · 8 months
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Size Matters
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Kinktober Prompt: Size kink
Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader
Content: Explicit sexual scenes, oral (f receiving), creampie (wrap it up, kids), dirty talk, rough sex, dom Sam, fluffy/funny aftercare (it’s crucial)
Summary: Your plan for making the boys dinner goes awry, leaving you alone with Sam in his bedroom, and coming to terms with a kink that only Sam Winchester can fulfill.
A/N: 🤭
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"C'mon,' you strain, reaching for a high shelf in the cabinet. Apparently Sam and Dean didn't find a need for a stepladder in the bunker. Your calves screech in protest as you reach for a jar of pasta sauce, your fingers brush the bottle, but not enough purchase to grab it.
A long arm reaches above your head, grabbing the sauce in a large, familiar hand. Sam hands you the jar with a smile.
You took it from his hands and chide, "Not everyone's as vertically gifted as you and your brother, you know. Y'could be more inclusive and invest in a stepstool."
He leans against the counter you'd been setting ingredients on. Sam's eyes scan over your form as you open the pasta sauce.
"You know you can ask us for help, right?"
"I was gonna make dinner for us, I didn't want to make you guys help me," you reply Sam stands fully now and looks over your shoulder. You crane your neck to look up at him, "How's the weather up there?"
Sam chuckles lightly, "You know, I could tease you about your height. It'd be pretty easy."
You turn back to the counter and place freshly-washed vegetables on a cutting board. Unsheathing a knife from the knife block, you keep conversation with Sam.
"I don't have a problem with being short," you bump your hip sideways into Sam's leg. He does the same to you, except the direct strike in the ribs knocks you off balance, stumbling over.
He's able to snatch you up to safety before you bust your ass on the floor. Now cradled in Sam's arms, a rush of comfort comes over you in his stable grip. His hands catch your waist, with his long fingers spreading broad across your torso. Fuck, together they could probably go around most of your waist, and those fingers...
You snap out of your stupor to find Sam smiling down at you. His eyes linger on yours long enough for your mind to wander, wondering who would lean in first. Stolen glances at each other's lips, hitched breath, low-lidded eyes, it was a perfect concoction for Sam to kiss you.
Beneath him, you're so delicate in his arms, as if you'll break if he isn't careful. It was in his own reflexes to catch you, but the feelings that rushed through him afterwards were something deeper. Almost instinctive that in any moment with you like this, hushed and ogling, would lead to something more. Forget dinner, he thought, he could just order something for delivery.
At least, after he's done with you.
"Sam," you whisper. Maybe you hadn't been paying attention, but his face is now just inches from your own.
He finds himself leaned over further, close enough to share the same air, breaths mixing.
You smile nervously, and to your relief Sam gives one of his own. But he doesn't break away - doesn't help you to your feet to cut vegetables for the dinner you were kindly making for him. It couldn't matter much now that he's holding you like this.
"Sorry," he replies, barely audible. You wave your hands in dismissal and place them around his neck. The air shifts as the movement brings you ever closer, your lips no more than three inches away from Sam's.
"It's okay," you whisper. Soft, hazel eyes wander over your face and flicker to your lips, seemingly stuck there until Sam takes a risk he'd been waiting for.
Relief washes over you when his lips meet yours. After all this time, it turns out that he had the guts to break this tension, and everything that had been bottled up could now overflow. You let a deep hunger overtake your body, purely going on instinct as Sam embraces you. Sam sighs into your kiss and swallows a moan it drew from your throat, whiny and eager.
Sam nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it tentatively with his teeth. You do the same in response, only harder. Testing the waters. Usually a dangerous game, especially with a Winchester.
Your hands had made their way to his broad shoulders - his lean muscles flexing and stretching as he moves his hands over you, meandering from your waist, spanning from your shoulder blades to the top of your ass. His fingers toy with the fabric of your clothes, like he was trying to unwrap a present too early and didn't want to rip the packaging.
“Not here,” Sam says, his words slurring like a love-drunk fool, “Can’t do this here.”
He breaks the kiss and leaves you panting for more; there's a new darkness in his stare, one that makes you shudder. You give him a smile, wiggling in his grip to the pasta sauce jar, and shut it closed.
“What about dinner?”
You raise an eyebrow at him, “You seem like you have other plans.”
He was caught red handed, but you weren’t declining the advances. If anything you spurred them on as much as he did.
Sam slowly releases you from his grip, setting you stably on your feet. Not once have his eyes left you, even if you weren’t paying attention - Sam was set on this goal, you’d given him the ‘yes’ he needed, and he intended to make good on his commitment.
Patience was wearing thin for Sam. He ogles at the sight of you bent at the waist, putting the pasta sauce and veggies back in the fridge. The curve of your ass sucks him in whole, as if there were nothing else in the room.
A hand settles on your ass from behind, cupping and kneading gently. You let out a shuddering exhale before standing and turning to Sam.
The softness of your voice surprises you, “Where do you want me?”
The ball was in his court. Sam looks you over coolly, his hands kept to themselves in his pants pockets. Your eyes drift lower and pause on the large bulge in Sam’s pants, straining slightly against his thick jeans.
“My bedroom,” he said plainly.
There was little time to brace yourself for Sam’s next move. You're pressed against the wall before you can protest, although you wouldn’t dare object to this.
Sam grips the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, wedging your hips with his own, keeping you steady. A new hardness presses against your core as Sam juts his hips into you, pure instinct taking over his movements. His cock twitches in his jeans - he needs to watch his cock sink into you, to watch your face contort in bliss when he bottoms out in your pussy.
There was nothing small about Sam Winchester - he's a Goliath of a man, towering over you at any given time, with thick broad muscles that send a rushing heat to your sex. If your intrusive thoughts ever won, you were sure he could toss you around like it was nothing.
But now, you didn’t have much choice but to stay pinned to the wall, where you and Sam both grind your hips desperately, letting out lilted moans and grunts against each other’s skin.
The friction on your swelling clit was rough and warm, with Sam's cock perfectly nestled atop your drenched slit. Each rough push shot pleasure through your core, but it wasn’t enough for your aching cunt.
“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” he emphasized. You shook your head at him. You wouldn’t break so easily, but if anyone were to shatter you apart, it could happily be Sam.
Your lips found his ear, after staining yourself up his long torso, “I’m not gonna break that easily, don’t worry.”
“Oh, yeah?” his voice deepened as his lips found your neck, eagerly nipping at your skin and making you whine. "Let's test that theory."
You gripped the hem of your shirt and shimmied it over your head, casting it to the floor carelessly.
Sam’s eyes trail over your chest, still beautifully bound by your bra. Their softness served as an undeniable invitation for his mouth to lower. He dips his head to greedily nip and suckle at the supple skin, leaving red and purple splotches in his wake.
You grip at his hair, urgently tugging him closer, as if the direct contact could never be enough to satisfy. Each of your soft moans is echoed with a low groan from Sam’s chest. He had doubled over, completely encapsulating you in his clean scent, now thick with a lustful musk.
Two fingers found the band of your bra, unclipping it with the utmost ease, and cast it to the floor with your shirt. Through panting breaths, Sam works off his shirt, though his lips have no hesitation to return to your exposed chest, and found a pebbled nipple between his teeth, rolling and biting to bring out a symphony of moans from the both of you.
Your hands lunged for the waistband of your pants. Sam took notice and sighs happily against your skin, his warm breath like a gentle wave across everything you'd exposed to him. Above you, Sam grew more unhinged with each passing second, grabbing and biting and kneading your flesh like a man starved.
Sam's lips capture yours once more in a tangle of tongues and teeth, exploring one another as if it was your only chance to do so. His tongue grazed the roof of your mouth, swallowing a deep moan that erupts from deep within your chest. He assesses your position and grows frustrated. It would be difficult to remove your, or his, pants without risking dropping you to the floor.
As quickly as you'd been slammed into the wall, Sam tosses you onto his bed, but stays standing at its foot, his hands reaching for his belt buckle. All else in the room vanished as you watch him remove the thick denim, shoving it down his legs to the floor. His cock strained against his boxers, throbbing and twitching to be free.
"Those," Sam nodded his head to your pants, "off."
The sudden dominance springs you into action. Your hands fly to your waistband and wiggle them off of your hips, down your thighs, and kick them away. Your soaked panties act as your final barrier, barring you from what you so badly needed.
Sam returns to his hunched position over you, letting his hands rove over your exposed thighs and ass, pawing at you greedily. You reach down to the band of his boxers, and slip your fingers under the elastic, inching them down until you felt a resistance against it - Sam's cock fights against the removal, straining your short arms until Sam reaches down to aid you.
The head of his cock springs up to smack against your covered core. You gasp softly at its warmth, your neglected cunt tightens around nothing of substance, an empty hole aching to be filled with something substantial.
"Feel." This was Sam's only order as he tugs your hand down to his length, coaxing you to wrap your small fingers around the middle of his shaft.
He's thick and warm against your palm, with a thick vein creeping up its underside to the tip. Your mouth waters at the way his cock twitches eagerly in your hand, and you slowly begin to pump along his length, making Sam hiss through his teeth.
Sam's voice is lower than you'd ever heard; it sends a heat directly to your teased pussy, now bracing against the base of Sam's cock. Its length covers most of your abdomen, casting your body in its silhouette in the dim lamplight of the room.
"Jesus..." he remarks wistfully, trailing a free hand up to his tip, pressing into the soft flesh of your belly.
Beneath him like this, Sam can finally see the scale of his cock to your insides, mapping out precisely where he'll settle inside of you. You whine softly as his cock drags another stroke over your soaked folds - the abrasion from your underwear was no longer tantalizing, but rather a nuisance.
His breathing becomes ragged, "I need to taste you."
The words shudder through you as Sam's lips work through the valley of your breasts, showering kisses along your middle, and finally he settles between your thighs. Sam places a kiss atop your clit, still kept out of sight by your soaked panties. Two fingers hook into the waistband and tug downward, sliding the soiled garment off of your shaky legs and to the floor behind him.
Cold air strikes your slit as Sam pries it open with two thick fingers, teasing at your aching hole, spreading the wetness around your cunt.
"Are you always this wet when you think about me?" his voice tremors through you. You nod quietly and hold your breath as Sam's head dips lower. All you can see is his rich brown hair cascading over your belly before warmth spread through your core, leaving you moaning at his first touch.
With the way his tongue teased at your clit, Sam may as well have set you ablaze. Your skin radiated a warmth unlike no other, rolling in waves as the cold of the air shocked your most sensitive areas.
"Sam," you whine, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You tug on him gently to push him further.
He pays no mind to your plea, and instead wraps his toned arms under your thighs, pulling your pussy flush against his thick tongue. It flicks your clit perfectly, and pairs with his lips as he suckles on the sweet bundle of nerves.
The taste of you makes Sam groan, his cock straining against the mattress beneath him. Above him, your moans and cries are a siren song, calling him to the bottomless sea of his desire. He pictures what lies ahead - you, sprawled on the bed, blissed out from his tongue and cock, sated and sleepy from a relentless pounding.
That image is pasted in his mind as he laps at your cunt, occasionally dipping his tongue into your tight entrance, and tasting your innermost parts. You arch your back at his touch, sighing his name like a prayer. His restless tongue toys with your hardening clit as pressure builds in your belly.
Sam creates a rhythm on your clit that sends you unfurling under his touch, mewling and whining and moaning slurred versions of Sam and please and need you. But he refuses to give more. Not until he can taste your release directly on his tongue.
The tightness in your belly snaps, breaking you apart until you're crying Sam's name against your hand, clasped firmly against your mouth. His tongue lolls over your clit even still, skyrocketing the shockwaves of the orgasm and making you whimper. Your slick coats his tongue and fills Sam's senses. All there is is you, your sounds, and your delicious cunt.
"Fuck," mumbles Sam, his voice reverberating through your convulsing sex, clamping down onto nothing.
You whine in response. All thought and sense had escaped your mind, now shattered and cast off to a void in the back of your mind. Sam laps up your juices and swallows, savoring every last drop your body had to offer.
The cold air of the room kisses your exposed cunt as Sam rises to his knees, his heavy cock bobbing above your abdomen.
"So small," he remarks, lining his cock over your stomach and admiring just how much of your body he'd overtake.
You'd surely be sore for days afterward, which sent a flush of pride through his chest. His cock ached to carve you hollow - to leave you gaping after a thorough fucking, to shape your pussy perfectly for him.
His hips rear back as he positions himself with your wet hole, shining with your slick, beckoning him inside. Sam's eyes meet yours when he notches the head of his cock past your entrance, surveying your expressions as he slowly filled you out. The girth of his cock could practically split you down your middle, stretching your little pussy to wrap perfectly around his shaft.
"God, you're so fuckin' tight," Sam groans, ogling at his own cock as it spread your pussy open. His hands press against the backs of your thighs and push them toward your chest, angling himself so the both of you could share the view.
He sighs, "Look at that - such a big cock, stretching out your tiny pussy, just for me."
Astonishment, teasing, and lust filled his tone, and something else. Something more primal that has your walls fluttering around Sam's cock.
You gape at the sight of his cock entering you, and you finally come to terms with exactly just how big he is. Your pussy is stretched blissfully wide, swallowing his length with earnest. Sam slams his hips and strikes deep, the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.
Each thrust is harsher than the last and all you can do is stare at the brutality your pussy is being subjected to. You cry out as Sam's cock crashes into you, every time, without fail.
At this point, there's no hiding the reality of what's behind Sam's bedroom door. If Dean, or anyone else, heard you, let them. Bliss overcomes your senses and dulls all rationality in your muddled mind.
There is nothing else that matters - just the overwhelming size of Sam Winchester and his remarkable cock.
He whispers your name like a summons, meeting his eyes with yours as he presses your body into the mattress. A hand presses into your tummy. Sam gasps softly and takes your hand to replace his own.
"Feel that?" his purrs, pressing onto your hand to deliver some pressure. As he thrusts in you can feel a shift in your insides, until you feel a firm strike of the head of his cock against you palm.
You look to him with wide eyes and find a wicked smile plastered on his face.
Sam crouches over you, enveloping you with his large size, encasing your body with his. He leans toward your ear, "Can you feel it up here, baby? Because I can. I can feel how tiny your cunt is before I go in and stretch it out."
He pushes deeper, to let you really feel it, "I can feel how you try to fit me, and how just tight you're getting, 'cause you're gonna cum, aren't you?"
A dumb nod follows his question, making his grin widen across his lips. No words form on your lips, only shaky wanton moans reply to his commentary.
"I know, sweetheart, feels good," Sam coos, slowing down his movements to draw out a raw cry from your throat. His cock drags through your walls until its head is all that remains, and slams in harshly.
Your cry is on the verge of a scream, but Sam does not relent. There is no plea to stop or slow down, because this is all you'd been dreaming of - to feel a comforting helplessness under someone far larger, to be at their disposal and usage.
A growl leaves his throat, "So fucking small... I bet you feel like you could break, huh? With my cock this deep inside you, your little pussy can barely take any more, can it?"
Your walls clench around him in reply, pulling Sam in deeper until his balls slap against your ass, now pairing with the obscene squelching of your abused pussy.
Between the lilting moans and quieted pleas from your perfect mouth, Sam issn't sure how much longer he can last. He vows to himself that he will not give in to it yet, not until he feels it. He needs to feel the way you wrap around his cock when you cum.
He needs to be the reason you finish, this time and each orgasm after.
"You've been waiting for this. You've wanted this the whole time - someone big and strong to pound your little pussy 'til you can't stand. Because you want a thick cock splitting you open." Sam stammers through the last few words - his own comments are bringing him closer to the brink, but you've already reached yours.
You shudder around him harshly as your orgasm hits you full-force, leaving you no room to ride it out as Sam's pace quickens. His breath hitches at the sensations flowing through his throbbing length - he hisses when you clench around his sensitive tip, leaving his gasping as he fucks you faster. Harder. Deeper.
His cock plunges into your cunt, hitting that same spot in your tummy as he mentioned before. Sam's hand presses against your abdomen, adding a glorious pressure that has you climaxing again in a matter or seconds.
"Thaaaat's it, attagirl," he encourages. "Such a tight little cunt, but she takes me so well."
The words flow through you like fire, sending you over the brink once again and leaving you whimpering beneath him. Sam smirks, knowing he's doing his job right, he has you exactly where he wants you, pinned, helpless, and impossibly full.
"Please... S-Sam," you whisper.
He laughs, pounding you so roughly you can barely brace for the slam against your cervix, "Can't handle it, can you, baby? I thought you said you don't break easily."
Your soft cries reach his ears as you slip into that thoughtless void of your mind, moaning with each strike.
Sam's lips brush over the shell of your ear, "You think you're so strong, but I'll break you. I'll have your cunt so bruised you can't think about anything else - only me, because this pussy is mine, do you understand?"
A reply doesn't come, only the sounds of your moans fill his ears. Sam delivers a harsh slap to your ass, thrusting his cock as deep as he could manage. You let out a long moan but still don't reply.
"Who's pussy is this?"
The words form on your lips and fall out feebly, "Y-yours."
He kisses your forehead, but does not let his hips falter, "That's right, angel. All mine."
Pressure builds in his abdomen, his balls growing tight as his own release crept up from behind. Sam nips at your earlobe, his words clang through you with a primal desire.
"And since this pussy's mine, I'm going to fill it."
The swift relentless pace resumes, crashing into your hips to verge on soreness, your tight cunt still wrapping perfectly around him, and Sam's name falling past your slacked mouth. Sam's eyes screw shut as his own orgasm finally approaches, and his cock begins to twitch.
He unsheathes his cock from your warm walls, aiming directly at your now gaping pussy. Sam pumps himself fervently as his cum spurts from his cock, right into your stretched hole. You stare in awe as his cum seeps into your cunt, the angle of your hips inviting it all in.
Sam hisses, "Keep it all in there."
You pant as you try to recover yourself, but Sam plunges his cock into you again, making you let out a low, drawn-out moan. He strikes as deeply as before, his movements are urgent, borderline predatory, insistent to have you bred nicely.
"Keep it in there, and don't you dare fucking waste it."
His movements start to slow - the thrusts are languid and gentle until Sam finally pulls himself out of your abused pussy. He grips your thighs and lowers them until you can finally breathe freely again, gasping in the cool, refreshing air.
"There you go. Deep breaths, honey," Sam coaxes, running his hands along your sore hips, massaging gently into the aching flesh. You do as you're advised and calm your breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. Sam did the same until he slumped into the mattress next to you, groaning into the sheets.
You smile lazily at him, "You okay over there?"
Sam nods into the bed, still letting out a low groan, "Y'fuckin' drained me."
Pride wells in your chest. You giggle at him, earning you a playful slap on your thigh. Your giggle turns into a hearty laugh before you nestle next to Sam, eyes fluttering shut with fatigue. He takes notice and nudges you.
"Bathroom, no UTI's for us today."
You retort, "Sam, I don't think I can even walk properly right now."
He shifts and rises from the bed, scooping you into his arms and lifting you to his chest. Your laughs echo around the room as Sam Winchester takes you to the bathroom, ever the gentleman.
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Hi! Thank you all for your patience as i get out of my lil' brain funk. I hope you enjoyed!
If you liked this fic, reblog to show others! Who cares if we're depraved little animals?? don't you just wanna go apeshit???
anyways ily, and i hope this fic gets the love it needs cause i had a wonderful time writing it >:3
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dustofthedailylife · 8 months
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How to Steal the Duke's Heart 101
→ Masterlist || → Taglist -> Next Part
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Pairing: Wriothesley x (gn!) Reader
Summary: The moment your verdict was decided as guilty you were brought to the Fortress of Meropide - despite being innocent. Little did you know that the trip to prison would make you meet the love of your life.
Tags: Fluff, kissing, you're in prison (but innocent), some violence (not graphic), swearing
A/N: Due to me being utterly normal about Wriothesley I had the idea for this fic - who am I kidding I would commit a crime for this man.
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“According to the judgment of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale, the defendant is declared… guilty.”
The voice of Chief Justice Neuvillette was ringing in your ears as he read out the verdict. Your verdict.
You couldn’t believe it. You knew you hadn’t done what you had been accused of, that the eyewitnesses had lied the moment they had opened their mouths, that the evidence had been tampered with, that you had been framed for the crime – but you were innocent. And no one was ever going to believe you. 
After all, the device that had handed you the fateful false verdict was treated as infallible in Fontaine. You now at least had proof that its reputation was nothing but hollow words. But what use was the knowledge other than just a bittersweet confirmation for no one but yourself? 
And before you knew it, guards were escorting you out the back of the Opera Epiclese in handcuffs. Roughly dragging you along with them into a big elevator. Down – deeper and deeper into the depths of the ocean.
You had heard stories of the Fortress of Meropide before – the secluded place where all criminals and outcasts of Fontaine resided. The place no one had ever come back from to tell the tale. At least not in one piece.
You weren’t sure how you felt on the way down the elevator but you would describe it as something akin to hollowness.
The glances the guards threw your way out of the corner of their eyes literally screamed disgust. You were nothing more than a dirty criminal to them after all – someone who was to be shunned and banished from society for all eternity. And if you really had done what you were convicted for, you wouldn’t even blame them for their disdain.
When the elevator arrived at the bottom the doors opened with a mechanical hiss. The scent of machine oil, iron, and damp moldy cellars immediately pricked at your nose and it was the exact opposite of what you’d call homely. 
The guards turned you in at the reception, where a rather unpleasant woman took your mugshots before handing you over to yet another rather unfriendly man who led you even further down into the Fortress.
With every new step you took, you tried to come to terms with the fact that the sight of damp, stone, and ironclad walls as well as the lingering industrial smell was going to be your life from now on. 
And the dawning realization of that was painfully pulling a tight rope around your throat. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry and most of all, you wanted to run away and pretend like all of this was a bad dream. But you couldn't.
Instead, you were trodding behind the man who was escorting you and silently began to cry as big beads of tears soon began rolling down your cheeks.
"Crying won't help you anymore, sweetheart." The man remarked almost mockingly as soon as he looked back over his shoulder at your defeated frame. "Should've thought about that before you did some shit."
No. You’re wrong. I'm innocent.
At least that was what you wanted to spit back at him. But it was as if any fierceness or strength to stand up for yourself had left you the moment you set foot into this prison. You simply had no strength left to fight.
You soon arrived in a gigantic circular room. The contraption in the middle almost looked like a giant engine, elevators were going up one level on one side and even further down on the other side of the room. The ceiling was so high up that you almost couldn't make it out at all. The light was dim and the only real light sources were yellow lanterns whose light was bouncing off of the copper-colored iron pipes, crates, and frames that lined the entire room. Gloomy would probably be the best way to describe it.
The pungent smell of oil and damp cellar was hanging in the air here as well and probably even more prominent than it had been before. Only now it was also mixed with what you thought was old sweat and… tea? The smell of the latter seemed oddly out of place and you couldn't make out where exactly it was coming from. All you knew was that it was probably the only pleasant smell you had encountered down here.
Taking the elevator up one level again the man you had been following this entire time led you into a side hallway that looked more like a vent pipe. The dimly lit room that was lying behind it was only furnished with a bunk bed and a barely functioning lantern. He unlocked your handcuffs before roughly shoving you into the room with a smug grin on his face.
"Make yourself at home." He chuckled mockingly before turning around on his heel and leaving while whistling a tune to himself that eerily echoed off the stone walls.
You lay down on the bed, exhaling in defeat. Your throat still felt like someone had painfully tied it shut and tears were dangerously pricking at the corners of your eyes. 
Now what?
You had no idea what to do here aside from sitting your time off. Where do you get food? Were you supposed to work and if yes, where do you have to and when?
You closed your eyes as a single tear escaped from the corner of your eyes, rolling down your cheek, dampening the pillow you lay on. 
All you heard around you were wet droplets falling from the ceiling onto the wet stone floor, distant voices from down below, and your own breathing. The only thing that drowned these sounds out were the thoughts in your head. 
Now that you had a quiet moment to yourself after everything that had gone down today, the realization about your situation was beginning to seep in for good. This bed, these walls, the oily smell… this was going to be the rest of your life now.
And that’s when you broke down and started crying once again.
Eventually, you must’ve fallen asleep because the next thing you knew was waking up to the smell of food wafting through the air vent in front of your room. 
You got up from the bed, took the elevator down, and followed the smell. Soon you found yourself standing in front of a Cafeteria, where fellow inmates were queuing for lunch. Or was it dinner? You’ve barely even been here a day, but the distinct lack of daylight already made you lose track of time.
You sighed and walked over, queuing for some food as well. You didn’t have any appetite but you knew you had to eat something and your grumbling stomach was screaming for food, appetite be damned. Much to your dismay, the food needed to be paid for, well, at least the stuff that looked digestible.
You ordered the only free option and sat down with the bowl of grayish, funky-looking liquid whose consistency was more akin to that of wallpaper paste. It didn’t look appetizing, but at least it was free and would prevent you from starving.
Just as you were about to lift the first spoon of gooey pap in your mouth, someone sat down at your table, making you halt your movement for a brief second. 
He placed his tray on the table with a loud bang before plopping down on the bench right in front of you. His food looked tremendously more high quality than yours. Your mouth began watering from just looking at it. Freshly made roast potatoes with rosemary, fluffy pieces of baguette with salted butter, a big juicy piece of meat – grilled to perfection, and a glass of mousse au chocolat.
He leaned forward, supporting himself on the table with his elbows, folded his hands and intensely looked at you with his piercing blue eyes. It seemed like he wasn’t in a hurry to start eating any time soon.
You pretended to ignore him and began eating. The soup, which could vaguely be identified as lentil soup, left a slimy feeling on your tongue and tasted completely bland. Every fiber of your body told you to spit it back out again but with enough willpower, you actually managed to swallow it. Not without pulling a grimace first though.
“You’re new here.” The stranger in front of you observed with curiosity.
You looked up at him, nodding slowly shoveling another spoonful of goo in your mouth before going back to ignoring him. You weren’t really interested in trying to make connections here. All you wanted was to get out of here again – even though you knew deep down that the likelihood of that was nearing zero.
“Adapting well?” He inquired, still not in a hurry to touch his food.
You suspiciously looked up at him. There was just something about this guy that was off. He didn’t quite fit in here at all. He was admittedly very handsome. He looked well groomed and his attire was way too pompous to be an inmate - or maybe he was some rich guy who got some sort of special treatment down here. Every other inmate was avoiding your table and people looked at him with an almost reverent look in their eyes. If it wasn’t for the scars that seemed to cover the majority of his body already, this just further confirmed your gut feeling to avoid this guy at all costs in the future.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He chuckled, eyeing you further with a smirk plastered on his lips.
“What do you want?” You asked, now slightly annoyed.
“Just trying to strike up some friendly conversation. You know, seeing how lost you were while ordering food, not knowing about tickets, and just dashing around like a scared blubberbeast, led me to believe that no one gave you a rundown of how this place works. So, allow me?” He remarked with that same smirk.
When you wordlessly motioned for him to continue, he began explaining the workings and rules down here in detail. Unspoken rules, general rules, what and who to avoid, how jobs worked, work times, payment and money, general daily schedule, and a lot more. There was simply so much you were beginning to feel lightheaded as soon as he had finished speaking and you could feel the lump in your throat grow in size with every minute that passed. You would never be able to live here.
“That should about cover the basics.” He finished explaining as you swallowed thickly.
You opened your mouth in order to speak but he swiftly lifted his finger to shut you up. 
“No need to say anything. I know it’s not easy to adapt to a new environment. Especially not one you feel trapped in. But that feeling will fade eventually. Trust me.” He threw you a genuine smile before lifting himself up from the bench and pushing his tray with the food in your direction, pointing at it with an offering gesture.
“Welcome to the Fortress of Meropide.” He said, before striding away.
“Wait-” You jumped up from the table causing him to halt in his tracks and turn around once more. “What’s your name?”
“Wriothesley.”
After this strange encounter with the mysterious and admittedly attractive man, you didn’t see him around for a long while. This came as a surprise because you’d assume someone with his looks and attire would stick out like a sore thumb wherever he went. But it was as if the ground itself had swallowed him.
You wanted to see him again, mostly because you thought you could learn from him for your life down here. And despite your gut telling you that he was a walking red flag you had developed a strange curiosity for him.
You had begun working at the ship dockyard where a big window was offering a view into the ocean. You could somewhat make out the sky and time of day from there and it was the only thing that kept you from going completely insane in here. All you had done was sleep, work, eat, and repeat since you came here. Some people had tried speaking to you and some asked what you were here for, but you didn’t have any interest in conversing with them – especially not after you had tried telling someone that you were innocent and they had just laughed at you. Needless to say, you had no desire to connect with people – although he was the only exception seeing as you were craving to talk to him again, as much as you tried to deny it.
Today you were working at the docks again and found yourself longingly staring out of the large window. Your mind drifted off and you wondered how it would feel to simply swim back up to the surface where your lost freedom lay.
“Beautiful view, isn’t it?” A familiar voice reached your ears from behind. 
“Wriothesley!”
The man in question walked up to you and came to a halt right next to you. He looked out through the window himself before looking at you from the corner of his eyes with a slight smirk.
“Still longing for the surface?” He inquired, crossing his arms over his chest. “It never fully goes away but once you get used to the Fortress you’ll find yourself unable to want to leave.”
“Is that so?” You ushered quietly, scoffing. You were simply unable to believe him, not when your freedom had been taken unjustifiably. 
“Thank you for the food the other day, by the way. I didn’t have a chance to thank you yet.” You attempted to divert the topic.
“Don’t mention it.” He waved dit off with an unwavering smile. “It is almost time for lunch, have you eaten yet? We could head to the Cafeteria together. My treat.”
“Oh, you absolutely don’t have to, I have enough credits for food now that–”
“Please. I insist.”
And so you found yourself sitting at the table with Wriothesley again, with the most exquisite meal that tickets could buy down here. 
You were surprised he was able to fork over nearly four thousand credits to buy the meals as if they were nothing. And especially since he treated you to such a meal as well, while everyone else down here held onto their credits as if their life depended on it. And of course, you also didn’t miss the stares of the others again when you sat down with your fancy meal.
You carefully eyed the food and then Wriothesley as if you didn’t deserve to be treated to something like this. He looked back at you with a genuine smile as he continued nibbling on his baguette.
“Anything wrong?” He asked with curiosity.
“No. It’s just… why–?”
“Why am I treating you to something?” He raised an eyebrow in amusement as if he had read your thoughts. You nodded slowly in reply.
“You’re interesting. That’s all there is to it.” He admitted with a smirk.
“I’m interesting? Me?” You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “You say that when you’re the one I could say that about. You don’t look like you fit in here at all, you have a truckload of credits to spend, and everyone here looks at you like you own the place.” 
You paused for a second, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’ve been here for a long time already, haven’t you?”
“You… could say that, yeah.” He replied with a chuckle, dipping his baguette into the rich sauce on his plate.
“Why are you here?” You continued prying.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” He replied with a smug grin before he continued eating.
You couldn’t quite decide if he was a red flag you should run as far away from as possible or if you wanted to get to know him closer. But either way, your first priority for now was not letting the food go to waste so you began eating the heavenly-tasting meal.
A silence settled between you two that was surprisingly pleasant as you both quietly ate with the occasional glace thrown at each other. 
Once you were both done he took your tray with him to put it into the tray cart before turning back around with a smile.
“Same time tomorrow?” He asked.
“U-uh… yeah, sure. I don’t see why not.” You stammered a bit taken aback, still confused as to why he wanted to hang out with you so much. You were a nobody with nothing to your name – not even a criminal record technically.
“Great. See you tomorrow then.”
And with that, a habit would slowly form. You would meet up for lunch each day and not long after, also for dinner. He often picked you up at the docks and bought a meal for you and only sometimes you were able to deter him from doing so and insisted that you bought your own since you were genuinely beginning to feel bad even if he seemed well off. 
You sometimes sat down for a long time talking even after you both had finished eating. You chatted just about anything and as it would turn out you two seemed to share similar interests. You found out he really loved tea and had extensive knowledge in that regard. And it just so happened that you too were a fellow tea aficionado. Not only that though, you two shared a similar taste in music, books, food, and more. After a couple of weeks had gone by it felt like you had already been friends for the longest time. And much to your surprise, not once had he attempted to ask you why you were here or pried into your private life.
On another such day, you were just heading out of the dormitories towards the Cafeteria to meet up with him. But before you could arrive there someone forcefully yanked you behind some iron crates. You crashed against them with the back of your head with a loud bang, momentarily losing consciousness as pain shot through your system.
"What kinda big shot are ya, huh? What're ya sitting for?" A man yelled at you aggressively. 
As soon as you got a grasp of your surroundings again, even though now extremely dizzy, you saw a big bulky guy with a missing front tooth who was pinning you against the boxes by your throat with an iron grip. He was accompanied by two other, less muscular guys who were staring at you in the same aggressive manner. His lackeys, you assumed.
"I have- I have no idea… what you're talking about." You struggled the words out due to the applied pressure on your vocal cords.
"What're ya here for, asshole?!" The man yelled at you even louder now, a few beads of spit flying right into your face through his tooth gap.
"I… I didn't do anything. I–" You gasped breathlessly as you clutched your hands around the hand around your throat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure being applied to it.
"Bullshit! You don't land here for twiddlin’ ya thumbs counterclockwise. And if the Duke's got the eye on ya already, ya've to be some VIP or some shit!" The toothless man spit on the ground between your feet.
“Duke?” You asked confusedly. 
“Tch, don’t fuck with me here, shut ya trap. Now, tell me. What’ve ya done? Be honest or I might’ve’ta polish your visage a lil’.” He viciously cackled in unison with his two lackeys who were cheering on him.
“I didn’t. Do. Anything.” You bit back through clenched teeth, putting a strong emphasis on each word. And before you were able to react, a stinging pain shot through your system as a fist connected with your face, sending your head flying back against the crate once again.
You immediately began to see stars and could feel your consciousness quickly fade away. The ringing in your ears and the accompanying dizziness from the impact was overbearing everything and all you could make out before you passed out was a flash of white light and pleas for mercy. Then everything faded to black.
The next thing you knew was waking up with a bandage around your head and an intense migraine. You felt like a horde of boars had trampled over you. The omnipresent pain got worse when you instinctively tried to sit up on the bed you found yourself on.
You hissed in pain and immediately felt a pair of big hands push you back into the fluffy bedding.
“Stay.” 
You recognized this voice. You had heard it so often in the past couple of weeks that, despite your delirious state, you had no issue placing it.
“Wriothesley.” You uttered weakly with your eyes still closed.
“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.”
He took hold of your hand with a reassuring squeeze and the feeling of his warmth on your skin made you feel tingly all over and the all-present pain immediately felt like it was being alleviated ever so slightly. Out of all people you were glad it was him by your side.
“What? Where?” You rasped, attempting to slowly open your eyes.
“We’re in a separate room at the Fortress Infirmary. Someone roughed you up real good and you fell unconscious. I arrived just in time to prevent worse. You’ll probably have a nasty bruise on your face for a while and you’ve got quite the concussion as well as a cracked rib. But nothing some bed rest and a good cup of tea wouldn’t be able to fix, hm?” He tried to reassure, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.
"Your Grace, here is the medicine you asked for." A guard suddenly came rushing into the infirmary with a small satchel that he handed to Wriothesley before quickly leaving again after a courteous bow towards the man by your side.
You furrowed your brows in confusion at the display of submissiveness of the guard towards a fellow prisoner when you've been treated with nothing but disdain and… wait a minute.
Your Grace. The looks he got from the others during lunch and dinner time. The Duke. It's him?!
The memories suddenly came rushing back to you – how you had been slammed into the metal crates, how the toothless man had mentioned the Duke while threatening you and how his fist had then ultimately painfully kissed your face.
You didn't have all the puzzle pieces to connect everything into a clear image yet but it was enough to feel that there was an epiphany just mere millimeters out of your range.
You startled and sat up on the bed with wide-blown eyes once more as pain shot through you again from the abrupt movement. Pain so bad you thought you would have to throw up for a second.
"I-I… your Grace? The Duke? It's you! He meant you and– who? W-what?! I-I– he threatened me and I-I'm innocent. I don't belong here I–I'm innocent–" You incoherently stammered nonsense because your mouth couldn't match up with the speed at which your thoughts were racing.
Just who was he?
But before you got to properly ask that question a pair of soft lips gently connected with yours, rendering you speechless and cutting off the words that were spilling from your mouth relentlessly like water from a leaky faucet. He squeezed your hand a little tighter while the other gently found comfort on your cheek. Cradling it so carefully as if you're the finest piece of porcelain in the world and could break any minute.
The gentleness of his touch, the warmness of his lips, and the smell of Earl Grey on his breath made your body explode into a sea of fireworks. It wasn't until this moment that you realized you had developed feelings for Wriothesley that went beyond the casual acquaintance you met up with after work for food in the prison cafeteria. It was just that you had been too occupied and lost in your own thoughts about your predicament to realize it.
Your curiosity and cravings to see him more and more often weren’t just born from a place of loneliness. Your heart had craved for him all this time.
Your hands found comfort in his hair as you leaned into the kiss more, prying a low chuckle out of him and you felt him smirk against your lips.
"I know you are." He whispered against your lips when he separated from you again.
"What?" You asked in confusion, already forgetting what he was replying to.
"That you're innocent."
"N-no I don't mean just in this case… I didn't commit any crimes I was sent here despite being innocent I-" 
You didn't even realize you had started crying until he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb. 
"I know." He reiterated firmly.
You looked up in his face and his eyes were filled with nothing but sincerity. He must be the first person you ever encountered who didn't see the sentence of the Oratrice Mechanique d’Analyse Cardinale as infallible and unquestionable.
"How?" You quietly breathed out in disbelief.
"I knew it on the first day I saw you. My beliefs were just further confirmed when I talked to you for the first time. I've been working behind the scenes to get you out of here again ever since." He admitted, wiping another stray tear from your cheek.
That's why he was gone for days after your first meeting and suddenly arrived again behind you at the docks.
"You went above ground?" You rasped, making the question of who he actually is even bigger.
He nodded, taking your hands in his and placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.
Is that why he also said you would find out who he is soon enough that one day? But you still didn't know… who actually is he?
"How are you allowed to go out? Who are you?"
"You still didn't figure it out?" He smirked. "I'm Wriothesley. Warden of the Fortress of Meropide." 
And at that moment everything fell like scales from your eyes.
His attire, the looks of other prisoners, the abundance of tickets to spend, randomly disappearing for days, the Duke… the Cryo Vision dangling from his shoulder despite not being allowed to carry any in here.
He was the one who saved you earlier.
He must've noticed your glance because he squeezed your hands a little tighter and reassured you: "They won't ever bother you again. I took care of it."
You didn't dare ask what he meant by that and simply nodded in acceptance.
"I can also tell you that things are going well. I pulled some strings and you might be out of here by the end of the week again with no criminal record to your name."
But what if you actually didn't want to leave anymore? At least not without him.
"Will I be able to see you again?"
A question that spilled out of your mouth before you could properly think about it. But the deafening silence that followed told you everything you needed to know. He rarely left the underground and was occupied down here most of the time so the possibility of you and him seeing each other again was low.
"Certainly." He replied after a while avoiding looking into your eyes.
A white lie. He wanted you to return to your old life again, out of the confines of this prison you had unjustifiably been thrown in. He didn't want to keep you here only for the selfish desires of his heart that he had unplannedly given to you along the way. Maybe he would find a way to be with you once you returned, maybe he didn't – But that didn't mean he couldn't indulge in what you had for the remaining time you were here with him.
And that's when he pulled you closer once more, one hand resting on your waist, gently massaging your skin through the fabric of your shirt while reuniting your lips as if it was the last thing he would ever get to taste.
And maybe, if it was what it took to see him again, you wouldn't mind actually committing a crime.
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Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.
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golden-cherry · 17 days
Text
deal - cl16 (31/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.
Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)
Word Count: 3.6k
series masterlist
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A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!
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"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"
You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."
He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."
You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."
"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."
"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."
Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"
You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."
Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.
When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."
When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"
"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder. 
"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"
"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh. 
You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."
Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."
Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly. 
"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment. 
The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.
You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes. 
In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple. 
That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family. 
It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins. 
You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?
You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed. 
You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -
"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers. 
"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.
"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"
"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?" 
The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"
Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second. 
You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"
"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"
"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again. 
"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"
You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."
"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"
"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."
"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour." 
"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot. 
And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."
"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."
"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."
Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."
"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip. 
Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends. 
Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."
You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good. 
Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks. 
"I miss this."
You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"
"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.
You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."
Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."
"Explain it to me." 
"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news. 
Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."
"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it." 
"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."
Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."
You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"
Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"
"What about me?" 
"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."
You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on. 
Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"
As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.
"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."
Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods. 
"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."
Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."
Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him. 
"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back. 
"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."
You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."
You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear. 
Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now." 
You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back. 
"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.
You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."
"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."
And you do.
1K notes · View notes
007reid · 9 months
Text
187. spencer reid (18+)
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pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader
summary: you're dealing with a dumb, whiny boy and you are wondering where your boy genius went.
warnings: 18+, sub!spencer & dom!reader, dumbification, whining, whimpering, overstimulation, handjob, orgasm denial, begging..you know the rest ;)
a/n: this is a result of too much ai spencer tiktok edits....wrote in a rush on my phone late at night but that's how fanfiction are meant to be written. enjoy angels <3 requests are open if anyone want to drop by!
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“okay spencer, this is an easy one. can you answer it for me baby?" you pause expectantly, and it takes him a while, but spencer only mewls in response, frustrated. "what states are next to louisiana?”
you see spencer’s eyebrows slowly pent up in thought but then he immediately gives up in lieu of letting out another pathetic moan, bucking up uselessly to your fingers. “answer the question baby," you prod sweetly, kissing your words into his cheek.
“i-hnfgg…” he pants breathlessly, eyes shut tight and when they flutter open, they are round with plead. “please, it hurts so bad, please let me cum i—“
you let go of his cock entirely and he whines, trying to shuffle closer so that you would touch him. in response you move away further, smirk at your lips. “be a good boy for me and i will.”
“i am being a good boy for you!” spencer whines, his eyes blown with need and watering, body writhing pathetically against the sheets. his dick is flushed an angry red and you know he’s only several strokes away from coming undone, being so closely attuned to your boy. “i’m being good i—“ his words hitched in his throat as you gently caress only the tip of his cock, teasing.
“the good boy i remember is super smart,” you slide up to him, pressing a leering kiss on his jaw. “the guy has an iq of 187. can you believe that? how rare is that?”
spencer doesn’t answer, his pleas and whines soft and stuck in his throat as he keeps trying to buck up his hips to get more of your touch, but with no avail. “hm? how rare is it spence?”
“i don’t know!” he cries, tears leaking and wetting his pretty lashes. “i—please it hurts so bad, just please let me cum i’ll do anything, please!”
“answer me and i’ll let you cum baby boy,” you say smoothly, removing your hand from him (which elicited a very impatient groan) to spit on your palm before going back again, moving your hand up and down his shaft deliberately slow. you know it drives him crazy, even crazier than he is right now and you soak in the satisfaction of it. “how many people has your kind of genius spence? hm?" you add encouragingly. "get this one right for me and i’ll let you cum baby.”
“i…uhh….” he's slow, and even slower with your hand working and overstimulating his already-sensitive cock. “one out of every hundred million people. 1000 who ever lived,” he finally decides to peel open his eyes again, searching your face for any hint of approval. as a response you flick up your wrist quickly and he nods his head back, an obscene and needy moan coming out of his mouth.
“and the states surrounding louisiana?”
his head snaps back immediately and stares at you in betrayal, like a kid being scammed out of his cookie, completely flustered and debauched. “you said one question!”
“i changed my mind baby,” you soothe, pressing an apology kiss in the corner of his mouth. “the faster you are the faster you get to cum. do you want to cum honey?”
“yes! yes i wanna cum so bad,” he cries, hands coming up to rest lightly at your waist and you can feel the tremble in them. the heavy feeling at the pit of his stomach has been there for at least half an hour now and you’ve just been toying with it, reliving it then bringing the pressure back. now he’s an absolute mess, curly hair sprayed on the pillow and stuck to his forehead, his pretty, delicate face ruined with tear stains, but it just makes him prettier. he’s completely at your mercy, writhing and whimpering and begging you to do something about his looming orgasm and you denying him of it.
“then answer the question baby boy,” you murmur encouragingly in his ear, fingers still teasing him. he’s so sensitive and overstimulated to the point that a single touch can make his entire body jump, so you are careful. too much and he might actually loose it, and you both know this. “you remember it, right spence?” you press, "the question?"
“hnngg,” he whimpers when you start biting on the lobe of his ear, grabbing and squeezing onto the sheets for dear life. “umm…arkansas and… i-i don’t know,” he admits shamefully, then desperately tries to make up for it. “but i got the first one! you said if i get it i could cum. i’ve been such a good boy for you, just this one time, please!” he begs, not in control of what he says anymore and it shows. he’s completely delirious and fucked stupid, and you take pity on him.
“aww, my sweet boy,” you coo sweetly, running your fingers through his messy mop of hair and pulling it away from his face for him. “i’m sorry angel, but if you can’t get it right, you don’t get to cum,” you whisper faux apologetically in his ear. you see when spencer’s eyes widen with horror, and the tears begins to fall freely.
“please,” he begs, his fingers pleadingly reaching out to try to touch you, convince you to change your mind. it’s a foolish and naive attempt, and he knows it too but can’t help taking his chances. he’s desperate for anything. “please, i’ll be so good for you. i’ll be your best boy. i promise. i swear. it hurts so bad y/n please, i cant take it—“
“fine,” you give in, only because you know for a fact that he can't last any longer. really, you're surprised he's managed to make it this long so far; you had already planned his punishment in your mind. your boy deserves his reward.
you speed up your movements and the sounds coming out of his mouth becomes wanton, sobs becomes louder and his whines a pitch higher and he’s strung high like a violin string, ready to snap. “cum for me, pretty boy.”
at your command his body gives out obediently, thick strings of cum spitting out of his cock, painting your hand and his hips, coating at his thighs. he twitches and his thighs tremble weakly as small blurts of cum starts to collect at the tip of his cock and you kiss him during all of it as he cries against your lips. he pants hard, and when you accidentally swipe a finger over him, he whines painfully and inches out the way, sore. when it’s over, he collapses into you, spent.
“thank you,” he says, sounding genuinely grateful, his voice muffled and his face buried in your shoulder. you laugh, fingers smoothing out the mess of his hair, pulling his head back and pressing kisses all over his face. spencer needs the aftercare, especially after being edged on for so long, needs the love and the assurance and the cuddles afterwards. "i love you."
"and i you," you say, smiling when he whines predictably, unsatisfied.
"you gotta say the whole thing," he says, looking mildly upset, lips jutting out and giving you the fattest, most foul and adorable pout, eyes big and searching.
"'m sorry," you weave your fingers with his, and he presses a kiss against your knuckles. "i love you."
3K notes · View notes
kaciidubs · 5 months
Text
Wait Your Turn
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❣ Summary: If you're going to break the rules, then you have to face the consequences of your actions. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 5.7k ❣ Warnings: Poly! OT8 x Reader, smut, humor, comfort, fluff, Dom/Sub dynamics, bondage, edging, spit roasting, bukkake, creampie(s), cum play, slight spit play, dacryphilia, choking, degradation, implied after care ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Usual first name + pet name references for the members, Reader is referred to as Baby, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny, Pup, Bub, Kitten, Muse, Jagi[ya], Sunshine, Noona, probably the filthiest thing I've written so far, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist
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Being in a polyamorous relationship with one of the busiest idol groups meant having to apply schedules to the most mundane parts of your life; which dorm you stay at for the week, who wants to go on solo dates and who wants to do group dates, and most importantly, who's the next to get laid by you and when.
Granted, these types of things are only applied when they're in the midst of a comeback - making sure their work life doesn't interfere with your relationship - but when the dreadful time does come around, the struggle truly begins.
Each of your boys were different in terms of their needs, so the schedule was set to alternate between the needier members having more frequent interactions with you throughout the week while the more independent members cashed their time during off days or weekends.
It was a strange system to adapt to, but you all made it work for the length of the comebacks - though, that doesn't mean it always held up. Some of the boys cracked, some deciding to share their time with you and another boy while others asked for trades in their time slots to see you sooner, but they always did their best not to alter the schedule too much.
That is, until week two came and you were begged for a cuddle session from a certain Aussie leader - Changbin agreeing to save his night for another day since Chris only went out of turn when he was really in his head about something.
You slipped into his room easily, getting bathed in the soft purple lighting of his room as you shut the door behind you. "You okay, Channie?"
He turned onto his side, putting his phone on the small table next to his bed before reaching his hand out, "Yeah, just need you in my arms, love."
Your heart fluttered, obliging his request with a smile as you happily rush to his bed, letting him pull you under the blanket and into his warmth - your darling personal heater who rarely wore anything more than boxer briefs to bed.
It doesn't take long until you're settled underneath him, caged between his arms while his slim hips keeps your legs separated, soft lips pressing to your own with barely hidden intent.
"Christopher," you hum against his lips, pulling away just enough to catch a glimpse of his face, "what are you up to, mister?"
"Need you," he breathed softly, pecking your lips once again before kissing just under your jaw, "need you so bad, baby."
A soft moan floated past your lips as he nipped at your sweet spot, a hand coming up to tangle in his hair, "You know it's not your night, baby - we can't."
"No one needs to know, yeah?" His lips continued down, wet kisses left in his wake until he moved back up to your face, eyes lidded and fogged over with lust. "It's just one night, princess, please." Pressing his body against yours, he ground his hips, further enticing you with the feeling of his hard cock against your clothed pussy. "Please, princess, just for daddy?"
In all honesty, you should've stuck to the rules, you should've been the voice of reason, but then his lips were on yours again and all thoughts of rationality went out the window.
When he felt you melt into the kiss he sighed a breath of relief, pulling away to sit himself up on his knees, "I'll do all the work, baby, alright? I just need you to keep that pretty mouth of yours quiet - we don't want to get caught, do we?"
You shook your head softly, shamelessly checking out his chest under the LED lights, "No, daddy - I'll be quiet."
His right hand caught your chin, bringing your gaze back to his with a knowing smirk, "Good girl."
With that, your fate was sealed with the tangling of limbs, breathless sighs of names, and muffled moans of pleasure.
It wasn't until the next morning that you realized the repercussions of your shared decision, waking up to an empty bed and a wall of texts waiting on your phone that sent chills down your spine.
My Loves - GC Min [Cat Daddy]🐈: Meeting at 3Racha + Artist dorm tonight Sun-Bok ☀️: Yep! Binnie Baby 💪🏻: 👍🏻 My Artist 💌: This'll be fun 🙄 Hannie Jisungie 💘: Do we have to?? I kinda had plans.. Bubs [SeungMongMong] 💕: Han. Read the room. Baby Bread 🍞❣️: 😭😭😭
Judging from the lack of reply from a certain leader, you already knew what the meeting was going to be about.
Wonderful.
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"Do you know why we're gathered here today?"
You wanted to coo at how cute Felix's 'domineering' act was, but you chose to refrain as you sat next to Chris in chairs borrowed from the dining room.
"Um... No?"
Minho clicked his tongue, sharp eyes narrowing in an expression you were all too familiar with, "Are you sure about that, Kitten?"
Pressing your lips into a firm line, you immediately knew that playing innocent was not in your favor.
"Chan?" He now challenged the eldest, the fire in his eyes unwavering.
The black haired man timidly shook his head, not even daring to open his mouth - he was a terrible liar, and everyone knew that.
"Alright, so we're playing this game." Shrugging dismissively, he turned his attention to Hyunjin and gave him a nod.
Without missing a beat, Hyunjin took out his phone and swiped across the screen before putting it down on the coffee table for everyone to witness what would happen next.
You froze at the sound playing from Hyunjin's phone, eyes snapping to Chris as his feigned look of confusion fell to sheepish embarrassment.
Floating through the small speaker were your moans, his moans, and the faint thumping of the bed you had warned him about before the entire scenario started.
"You recorded us?!" Even though he tried to save face, the blush tinting his ears and cheeks was more than a dead giveaway that you'd been caught red handed.
"You fucked her when it wasn't even your turn!" Hyunjin argued, crossing his arms over his chest.
"You were supposed to be asleep!"
"First of all, I can stay up late as long as I want, and second of all, you two aren't the quietest of fucks in this house!"
"We share a wall and I slept through all of that?!" Jisung suddenly piped up, gesturing wildly to the phone on the table, "Why didn't you wake me up?!"
"I sense we're missing the point here..." Jeongin mumbled, snatching Hyunjin's phone from the table to pause the tantalizing audio.
"Innie's right! The point is," Changbin pointed a finger at their leader, "you tricked my bunny into letting you hit!"
Seungmin scoffed, "Tricked is a strong accusation, your 'bunny' isn't as innocent as she seems, isn't that right, pup?"
As much as you wanted to speak up in defense of yourself, they were completely right; you were in the wrong, no matter how it started and how rewarding the act was, you had broken one of the rules explicitly set for comeback season.
"This isn't all sunshine's fault," Felix butted in, quieting the bickering happening around him, "but it isn't all Chan's fault either - they both did it, so they both need to be punished, right? That's what we normally do when rules are broken, isn't it?"
"Exactly," Minho purred, running a hand through Felix's blond hair in appreciation, "and lucky for you two, we already thought of a punishment."
A chill ran down your spine and you stiffened under his mischievous gaze, noticing Chris opening his mouth to speak from your peripheral but closed it once more.
He may have been their leader at work, but here they were all partners, and the eldest card was virtually useless.
Looking between the two of you, a smug smirk graced Minho's lips as he nodded, "No objections? Good." Turning his gaze to you, he nodded his head, "Clothes off, kitten."
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Apparently, the agreed upon punishment must've been a pact for pure torture for you and Chris; the eldest remaining in the same dining chair he sat in during the meeting, wearing only his boxer briefs with his wrists tied behind his back as part of his personal punishment.
You, however, seemed to get the brunt of the arrangement, laid naked on a blanket spread out over the area rug, a few decorative pillows spread around in case you needed the extra support.
Chris wasn't allowed to touch you or himself, nor was he allowed to cum during any point of the punishment; whereas you were allowed to touch anyone but Chris, and you weren't allowed to cum while the remaining members used their designated day to fuck you out of schedule - just like their wise leader and boyfriend had done the night before.
After some thorough - and quite unfair - prep by Jisung that left your pussy covered in spit and glistening for all of the boys to pay witness, Jeongin shuffled his way between your legs.
"Hi, Noona."
You did your best not to giggle at how causal he was, despite being stark naked and fisting his dick for what was to come next. "Hi, Innie."
"I still think it isn't fair you let Channie Hyung break the rules like that," he pouted, shuffling closer to rub his tip against your awaiting folds, drawing a shivering breath from you in the process.
"I-I know, I'm so-rry!" The feeling of his cock sliding past your walls had your back arching slightly, a low moan floating past your lips as he steadily filled you to the hilt.
He groaned softly, hands anchoring at your hips as he began to thrust into you without abandon, eyes locked onto where you were connected as his tongue just barely poked between his lips.
Your peace of getting used to his fast pace was interrupted with a shadow being cast over your face, the sight of Changbin shuffling into view with his signature smirk curving his lips.
"You don't mind taking two at once, do you, bunny?" He hummed, tapping the head of his dick against your bottom lip for emphasis.
A pitiful whimper escaped you, eyebrows sloping as realization quickly dawned on you - if he was using your mouth, then that meant you wouldn't get to feel that delicious stretch you'd been craving for the past week, yet another punishment.
"C'mon, little bunny, open up for me."
Doing as you were told, you parted your lips to welcome his thick tip, dropping your jaw to accompany the rest of his thick length to slip into your mouth and press against the back of your throat.
He rocked his hips in an opposing rhythm to Jeongin's powerful thrusts, the force simply jolting you into Changbin's dick and helping him fuck your mouth in return.
Any sound you made was turned into vibrations that shot up his spine, while panted moans and grunted breaths flowed freely from them, mingling with the distant sounds of your other boyfriends pleasuring themselves on the side as they waited for their turn.
"Look at you taking Innie so well, gonna make him come, bunny? Make him fill that needy pussy of yours?" The third eldest goaded, his hand sliding down to grope at your breast, running his thumb over your budding nipple.
Jeongin grunted, head bowed with focus as he drove into you with one desire and one only - to come.
You tried to hum out a reply, nodding your head in hopes that it would get noticed through the bobbing of your head until an increase of speed had your eyes rolling in your head.
"I-I'm gonna come, Noona- Oh, fuck-"
Just as you were ready to feel the signature warmth filling you, the presence of him inside of you disappeared and your eyes shot open to see him jacking himself off above you. Within a few passes of his fist, ropes of cum decorated your stomach, starting just above your naval and ending near your breasts.
It was almost as if he could sense your disappointment as he shot you a cocky smirk, "Oh - did you want me to finish inside? Sorry, Noona, I got to pick since it was my turn."
With a tap to your cheek, Changbin brought your attention back to him, "Don't get too upset, you still have five more dicks to go, bunny."
He was right - your punishment was far from over, and with the needy flutters of your pussy, you knew the requirement of not coming would be an uphill battle.
So, with renowned vigor, you did your best to focus on giving the best head you could manage in this position, laving your tongue against the smooth skin of his dick while trying not to mind the saliva that trailed down your cheek.
In the meantime, Chris wasn't faring too well in his seat, his hard on straining in his boxer briefs and begging for some form of attention from anyone in the room - the subtle shifting doing next to nothing to satisfy the pressure he craved.
He watched as Hyunjin guided Seungmin's mouth up and down his cock, a hand tangled in the long golden tresses of the younger's hair while the other half of his attention was focused on slow makeout session Felix had drawn him into; plump lips working against the smaller pair in a way that couldn't be described as anything other than beautiful.
"IN-ah," Minho called out, almost looking completely unphased by the drag of Jisung's lips against the column of his neck if it weren't for the way his hands gripped his slim waist. "Why don't you make sure Hyung doesn't get too bored over there?"
Fuck.
Jeongin gave a dutiful nod as he crawled his way over to the eldest, fox-like eyes sparkling with a glee that made his stomach flip. "Channie Hyung."
"Jeongin."
He pouted at the use of his name, no glittering nickname or endearing title following, "Don't be like that! You know why we're doing this - you'd do the same if it was one of us!"
Of course, he was right, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to save as much of his pride as he could, not with the way he could feel his sanity slipping as the two-toned blond settled between his spread legs.
"Alright, alright, 'm sorry," relaxing against the chair, he gave a small smile toward the youngest, "hi, baby boy."
Preening with happiness, Jeongin pressed a soft kiss to the inside of his thigh that nearly had him jolting out of the chair, a delighted laugh floating past those daring lips.
"You know... You didn't have to try to keep it a secret," he hummed, planting another kiss higher up the smooth plane of skin, "there's nothing wrong with needing Noona sooner than us, unless..." Sharp eyes looked up at him, a dark glint sending a spark of electricity down the eldest's spine, "You wanted to see what would happen if we found out - is that it, Hyung?"
Chris opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a guttural groan escaping Changbin, pulling his attention toward the main event happening in the middle of the living room.
The buff man shivered, hissing sharply as he pulled his softening dick from your mouth, "Show Binnie, bunny."
You opened your mouth immediately, showing the mess of cum and saliva pooling your tongue.
"Good girl, go on and swallow."
Your puffy lips closed for a moment before parting again to show your now empty mouth, void of any remnants of his seed; as a reward, Changbin bent down and pressed his lips to your forehead.
Next in the rotation was Seungmin, Felix, and Hyunjin - taking on a position that seemed to be coordinated in advance; Seungmin taking post between your legs, Felix straddling your torso with his hands already groping your chest, while Hyunjin lingered beside you.
"Jeongin, did you really have to leave a mess behind?" Seungmin groaned as he dragged his thumb through a still wet line of cum, tapping Felix's cheek with his index.
Following his instincts, Felix turned his head and instantly took his thumb into his mouth, and you watched with lust fogged eyes as he sucked it clean.
"Don't act like you weren't going to do the same thing." The youngest deadpanned, shooting the singer a glare, "You're just mad I did it first."
Deciding to ignore that statement, the second youngest slipped his thumb from Felix's soft lips and brought it down toward your awaiting pussy, putting slight pressure on your neglected clit.
You jolted at the sudden touch, whining pitifully, "Minnie, please, don't tease me."
"I don't think you're in any position to make demands, bub."
Despite his snarky reply, you could feel the head of his dick nudge against your slick entrance, all the while Felix was happily enjoying his time with your breasts; gently kneading the mounds and tweaking your nipples with subtle pinches here and there.
"Come here, my angel." Hyunjin murmured softly, cupping the freckled blond's face before pulling him into a sloppy kiss.
You watched helplessly, forced to be a spectator of the pleasure happening around you; the show above you, the sounds of Jisung's unabashed whimpers from the couch, and the grunted gasps of Chris from whatever Jeongin and Changbin had resorted to doing to him.
When the duo pulled away, Felix leaned over to let a stream of spit drip onto his twitching cock and the valley of your boobs, the excitement palpable from the way he practically vibrated above you.
Without any further preparation, he pressed your breasts together to sandwich his cock and rocked his hips forward, a heavenly groan floating past his lips.
At the same time, Seungmin slipped past your walls with little resistance, sighing happily at the warmth of your pussy finally enveloping him.
Your hands found Felix's thighs, squeezing the flexed muscles as he fucked your breasts at a steady pace - meanwhile, Seungmin set his own rhythm of deep and hard thrusts, practically punching moans out of your throat with each slap of his thighs against the back of your own.
"Sunshine, you feel so good," Felix groaned, eyes flicking between your face and the way the pink head of his dick peeked out from between your boobs on each inward thrust.
"Of course she'd feel good," Seungmin scoffed, his hands gripping the backs of your knees for leverage, "the little slut was made for us, isn't that right, pup?"
You preened at his words, tossing your head back with an unabashed moan.
"So shameless, my muse," Hyunjin smirked, watching you lovingly as he lazily fisted his spit-slicked cock. "You love being used like this by us - but, then again, we love getting to use you, too."
Whining up at him, your dazed eyes glanced down at his length and your lips parted - an offering.
"Nuh uh, beauty, I'm waiting for that sweet pussy of yours."
The clench your walls gave earned you a moan from the singer inside of you, his grip on your legs tightening slightly, "Fuck, stop it, pup - feels too fucking good."
Felix whined, tossing his head back with a shivering breath, "W-What's she feel like, Minnie?"
"Wet, warm, t-tight," a low grunt fell from his lips, "I can tell she's getting close - you know, when her pussy f-flutters-"
"-Y-Yeah, oh, fuck- I'm close." The freckled boy's thrusts quickly began to falter, dissolving into him shallowly humping your breasts.
Hyunjin watched as both boys chased their orgasms, your breathless moans floating through the air like a song while your nails scratched angry red lines down Felix's slim thighs.
"A-Ah, fuck, f-fuck-" Seungmin was the first to topple over the edge, pulling out just as he began to come, the hot release adding to the partially dried mess left behind from his boyfriend before.
With a shaky rut of his hips, Felix came with a short cry of your name, his cum painting your neck and mixing with the mess of saliva and precum in your cleavage.
Dropping your legs unceremoniously, Seungmin shuffled from between your legs to sit breathlessly at your side; Felix managing to shakily slide himself off of your torso and into the former's arms.
"Oh, you poor beauty," Hyunjin cooed, taking in your utterly disheveled form as he filled in the newly freed space, "they made you so dirty, didn't they?"
You jolted at the feeling of his hand ghosting your side, your abdomen twisting so hard you nearly folded over.
"H-Hyune, can I come this time? Please, please, I-I need to, i-it's too much!"
"You're begging the wrong person, my muse." He used his right index to drag through the mess at your sternum and down to the cum coating your stomach, "I can't help you, here." Popping his finger into his mouth, a shivering breath ran through his body, eyelids fluttering before focusing his heated stare back onto you, "Don't worry, I'll be fast - two more after me and you'll be done."
Luckily for you, your orgasm had began to subside and you were barely affected by the graze of his fingertips down your hips and thighs, caressing your skin and massaging the tense muscles as he went.
Chris watched as Hyunjin slipped inside of you with little to no resistance, the sight of your cum stained body arching off of the floor making him strain against the rope keeping his hands behind his back.
"Wish that was you, huh?" Changbin taunted low in his ear, squeezing his shoulders before lightly massaging away the tenseness in his biceps, "Look at her, five dicks in and she's still taking everything we give her."
"Fuck."
Hyunjin had your legs in the air, calves resting against his right shoulder to make the squeeze even tighter, making each drag of his cock that much more devilish for you.
That should be him making you moan like that, he should be the one feeling the squeeze of your pussy around his dick, not the stupid confines of his underwear.
He felt like he was going crazy, and it didn't help with Jeongin's intermittent touches to his restrained bulge that kept him hyper aware of everything happening in front of him.
Your moans grew in pitch, one hand gripping onto the artist's forearm while the other gripped a decorative pillow by your head for further support.
"Oh, god - I c-can't- I-"
"Hold it, kitten." Minho spoke up from his position on the couch, "You have two more to go for your punishment - you don't want to make it worse, do you?"
"N-No, but- Ah!" Your train of thought escaped you as the lithe dancer slightly leaned forward, pushing your legs closer to your torso and brushing against your g-spot in an entirely new angle that had you seeing stars.
"You can do it, my love," Hyunjin panted breathlessly, a fine sheen of sweat beginning to glisten on his skin, "g-gonna fill you up for doing such a good job for us, okay?"
There weren't any words you could find to somehow put together a coherent sentence, so you simply nodded with hiccuped breaths - doing your best not to focus on the burning desire in your abdomen.
It only took a few more strokes until he stilled with a gasp, broken moans happening in time with the twitching of his length, filling your cunt with every last drop of his load.
However, the turnaround this time was faster than you'd expected; Hyunjin pulling out with a still throbbing dick, while the sound of scrambling reached your ears before a new presence filled the void.
"Jagi."
Your heart clenched, blinking up at the man with a desperate gaze, "Sungie, please - I-I can't take anymore."
You were overly aware of the warm sensation of Hyunjin's cum dripping down the curve of your ass and undoubtedly staining the blanket beneath you, and you were beginning to feel tacky from the mix of cum and spit drying on your skin.
"I know, I know, but you're so close, Jagi - you can do it for us, right? Take your punishment like a good girl?"
The feeling of him pushing your legs up and out had you sobbing out a breath, everything from your waist down sore and crying for a break.
Jisung rubbed the leaky tip of his cock against your puffy clit, biting his lip as more cum seemed to endlessly dribble out of you, "Shit, he really filled you, hm?"
Then, just as his boyfriends before, he angled his hips and sunk into your sensitive cunt, your moans mixing together in a harmony.
"S-So good - god, I wish I could stay in this pussy." He groaned, leaning forward to hover over you - keeping your legs hooked on the outside of his arms - before shallowly thrusting into you.
The sloppy sounds of skin against skin and the mixture of cum and your arousal filled the living room as everyone watched on.
"Fuck... I wanna go again," Felix whined, doe eyes trained on where you and Jisung were connected.
Seungmin laughed, squeezing his arms around him, "Yeah? I bet Chan wishes he could go at all."
This comment brought each of their attentions to the man in mention, and the sight was one to be memorized for the time to come.
A light sheen of sweat shined across his forehead and chest, shallow breaths expanding his torso and exposing the slight definition of abs with each exhale, and thick thighs spread to display the bulge stretching the light grey fabric of his boxer briefs - a glaringly obvious stain of precum in the form of dark grey spread around the head of his hidden cock and along the length, defining it more.
"Holy shit, Chan - you're turned on this much?" Hyunjin took in the view with amused eyes, though the faint swipe of his tongue over his bottom lip hadn't gone unnoticed.
The eldest whined, an embarrassed blush adding to the flush of arousal on his face, "It doesn't help that these two," he nodded his head between Jeongin and Changbin, "have been over here touching me the whole time, and- fuck, watching everyone take turns with her, how could I not get turned on?"
"Channie Hyung, you look like you're one breeze away from coming." Jeongin giggled as he pressed his index finger against the outline of his tip, pulling it away to see a faint string of precum follow suit.
"He shouldn't." Minho interjected, watching the small group from the couch, "And you better not make him come either, unless you'd like to be added to the punishment list, too."
Another signature whine fell from Felix as he broke his focused stare to look at the black haired man, "Can we at least see him? Please, Hyung?"
There was a moment of silence - well, as silent as it could be with your and Jisung's moans and whimpers still dancing through the air - before he nodded his head.
"Fine, go ahead."
It definitely wasn't a three person job, but when Felix sprung into action with Jeongin, Seungmin wasn't about to be left out of the reveal - so, with three sets of hands and the help of Chris lifting his hips, they managed to toss away his one and only clothing item.
"Holy fuck, thank you," he groaned, his head falling back and lightly knocking against the backrest of the chair; a wave of goosebumps decorating his skin at the temperature shift and change in pressure.
The sudden sound of Jisung cursing called their attention like a moth to a flame, eyes snapping to see the rapper frantically fucking into you with reckless abandon.
Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you gripped his hair, "Please, please, please, I-I can't- j-just come already, Sungie!"
It wasn't clear if it was the tug on his scalp or your command that had him coming, but he was suddenly shaking above you with breathless whines, fucking his load into you with hard, shallow ruts.
He dipped his head to catch your lips in a less than coordinated kiss, a dazed smile finding its way to his face, "Last one, Jagi."
Sniffling up at him, a harsh realization hit you like a freight train - Minho was the last one to go.
Minho, the one who enjoyed seeing you at your wits end, wearing you down until you were nothing but his brainless little kitten - the one who laughed in the face of your pleas and begs, the one who would catch your tears onto his fingers and make you choke on the same digits.
As Jisung slipped away to join the rest of the spectators, you turned your head to see Minho unmoving from his seat, staring at you with a sinister glint in his eyes.
"Hands and knees, kitten."
You were shocked to find out that you still had power left in you to lift your body from the floor, much less manage to turn yourself onto your aching legs before dipping into an arch you'd perfected in your time with them - ignoring the feeling of now cold cum meeting the fluffy warmth of the blanket where you once laid.
It wasn't long until you felt a large hand grip the swell of your ass before landing a hard slap against the cheek making you scream out a moan.
"What did we learn?" He hummed nonchalantly, spreading your ass cheeks to see the newest mess of cum ooze toward your clit.
"I-I won't k-keep secrets," you sobbed, the pulse of your pussy making your toes curl, "if s-someone wants to skip ahead, w-we make sure everyone knows - P-Please, Min, I'm sorry!"
The only sign of acknowledgment he gave you was a clipped hum, sliding one hand to the base of your spine while the other wrapped around his dick, pumping once and tracing your messy cunt.
"Do you think you deserve to come?"
"Y-Yes! Yes, please, I've been good - I-I didn't come while the others fucked me, I-I let them use me, please let me come, Min!" Hiccuping a sob, your hands fisted the blanket as fresh tears streaked down your cheeks, "Please, please, please, it hurts - I can't keep holding it!"
The stretch of his dick past your sensitive walls had your mouth falling open in a silent moan, eyes rolling as your veins flowed with molten lava - overstimulation beginning to set in.
"Okay, kitten, you can come," he murmured softly, his hand sliding up your slightly sweaty back before wrapping around your neck, his body eclipsing yours as his lips hovered just above your ear, "but only when I say so."
He dragged his hips back before delivering a hard thrust, forcing a choked gasp past your lips as he began to practically fuck you through the floor - broken moans and cries flowing like water in a stream.
"Remember this the next time you decide to bend the rules," hissing in your ear, his hand tightened around your neck ever so slightly, "doesn't matter if its Yongbokkie's charms, Hannie's begs, Jeongin's sugar coated promises - none of them, if you try lying to cover for them, this is what'll happen."
"Minho, it wasn't all her fault." Chris gritted, watching the way you writhed in the second eldest's hold - his dick twitching painfully for any type of relief.
Minho scoffed out a laugh, finally directly regarding him ever since the entire punishment started, "When did I ever say it was, Chan?"
Without so much as a stutter in his rhythm, he sat up onto his knees, bringing your body with his and putting you on full display for the rest of your partners.
"This is a lesson to you, too; don't try to keep things from us - if you want to fuck our girl, you can fuck her." His thumb pressed against the underside of your jaw, tilting your head in their direction, "She obviously loves it, so why put yourself through the stress of making it a secret? You can see her just like this without keeping her orgasm from her, isn't that right, kitten?"
You mindlessly nodded as best as you could, drool trailing out of the corner of your mouth as you tried your best to keep your focus on the man restrained in the chair and not on the six other pairs of eyes taking you in.
"Words, kitten."
"Y-Yes, Sir!" You mewled, your hands holding tight to his arm to keep yourself tethered to your own body.
"Exactly, now, say sorry."
Chris bristled, "Minho, that's-"
"Felix."
On command, the boys occupying the space near Chris's legs moved to allowed Felix between them; Jeongin holding onto one thigh while Hyunjin held onto the other to further restrain him.
The second Felix's soft hands wrapped around the base of his dick, he had to bite his lip to silence the pure moan of pleasure that wanted to rise out of him - but, the instant his lips pressed against a vein, he nearly cried.
"Say sorry, kitten," Minho whispered in your ear, breaking through the fog that clouded your brain, "say sorry then you can come."
A sob wracked through your body as you nodded, "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Innie and Binnie. I'm sorry L-Lix, Minnie, a-and Hyune. I-I'm sorry S-Sungie," nearly choking on your breath, you cried, "a-and I'm sorry Min, I'm so sorry, sir!"
He hummed, a smirk on his lips, "You're missing an apology, kitten."
The names replayed in your head like a tape on rewind, your brain desperately searching for who you might have missed until it finally clicked.
"C-Channie!"
The call of his name brought his eyes to yours, breathless groans escaping him as Felix licked at him as if he were a popsicle on a hot summer day.
You sniffled, blown out pupils swimming in the sea of your watery eyes, "I-I'm so sorry, Channie - I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry!"
His heart clenched in time with his abdomen, hips canting as best they could with Hyunjin and Jeongin keeping him still. "I'm sorry, princess, you hear me? Fuck- I'm so sorry, baby."
"Good kitten," Minho grunted, his free hand wrapping around your hip to the apex of your thighs, his skilled fingers finding your clit easily, "now, come for us."
There wasn't a singular word to describe the sensations that shot through your veins; euphoria, relief, satisfaction, all you could feel was the wave of your orgasm crashing around you and drowning you in the muffled sounds of your own screams.
It didn't take long for Chris to fall victim to the sinful kitten licks of Felix's tongue, not when he had the view of you and Minho falling apart before his eyes.
"Oh fuck, f-fuck!"
Minho felt you slump in his arms, shallow breaths wracking your body through soft whimpers and hiccups. "You're alright, Jagiya, I've got you."
You slurred out soft words he couldn't catch, though the faintest "Sorry" caught his ear through the jumbled mess.
"No more of that, kitten, okay? I forgive you - We forgive you, just take some deep breaths with me, hm?"
Changbin appeared in front of you with two wet washcloths, and a t-shirt most likely from his closet, "Hey, bunny, it's Binnie - I'm gonna clean you off, okay?"
You hummed softly and he got to work wiping away the dried cum and spit that stained your skin, using the second cloth to get whatever remnants he missed before handing it off to Minho who cleaned away the cum covering your pussy.
Meanwhile, Felix and Jeongin were having a field day of cleaning up the cum that decorated Chris's skin from his own orgasm; Hyunjin lazily running his hands through Chris's hair while Seungmin untied his wrists.
"Hyung," Seungmin prodded, garnering Chris's tired, but attentive gaze, "we know you mean well, and you don't like imposing over us, or whatever," he took a short breath, fighting through the shyness, "but if you need something then say so - it's not like we haven't adjusted our schedules before."
"Yeah, Chan - we're not gonna fault you if you need your time sooner than us, we do it all the time." Hyunjin chimed in, playing with a small curl at the front of his head.
"Some of us more than others."
"You know, I can hear you," Felix deadpanned, looking up at the three of them while licking his lips, "and it's not like I don't offer sharing my time!"
Jeongin laughed, "I don't think they meant it as a bad thing, Lix, you're just the one who uses your time the most, even if you share it."
"Which is, again, not a bad thing," Jisung piped up with a chuckle, walking toward the group with a washcloth and a bottle of water for the eldest, "I think it's a tie between me and you, honestly."
Through the small talk and pre-shower wipe downs - some of the boys dispersing to shower while others searched for snacks - Chris noticed Minho bundling up the soiled blanket while Changbin cradled your sleeping form in his arms on the couch, murmuring soft words he wasn't able to catch.
"She's okay," Minho hummed, catching Chris's soft gaze, "we're going to let her rest for a minute, then when she wakes up Changbin's going to make sure she uses the bathroom before anything else."
He nodded understandingly, stretching his arms and rubbing absentmindedly at his wrists.
"You want to cuddle with her."
Chris jolted, eyes widening, "What? I didn't say-"
"You don't have to say it, you do it all the time after sex, Chan," he rolled his eyes, a loving smirk playing at his lips, "it's nothing to be embarrassed about. Just..." Sighing, Minho ventured over to the chair he still sat in, "Stop being shy about needing love, okay? This isn't about some stupid rule or 'fuck' schedule - you need to know that there isn't any shame in putting your needs first. You have eight partners, which means you have eight people who are open and ready to give you the love you need, Hyung."
Planting a quick kiss on his lips, Minho disappeared down the hall toward the laundry room, leaving Chris to settle with his words.
Nodding softly to himself, he made his way toward Changbin and swapped roles quietly, accepting a temple kiss from his fellow rapper before he headed into the kitchen to join whoever occupied the space.
Laying across the couch, Chris let you lay partially on top of him, his arm wrapped securely around your back while he used his other hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.
Stirring slightly, you cracked an eye open and a tired smile twitched your lips, "Mm... I love you."
You have eight partners, which means you have eight people who are open and ready to give you the love you need.
He smiled at Minho's words, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, watching as you drifted back to sleep.
"I love you too, baby."
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altruisticalastor · 3 months
Text
↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴
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☒ Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six
☒ Summary: Your heart felt full as Alastor continued his lead. You both danced to the melodic sounds, relishing in the shared embrace. That night was one that you cherished for months to come. But on the contrary, your blossoming relationship with Alastor solidified the beginning of the end. 
☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, prequel to the first two parts, alastor and reader are human in this part, 1930's period typical misogyny (NOT from alastor), fluff, falling in love, obsessive!alastor, reader is in hell for a reason, murder, gunshot wound, major character death, one suggestive scene involving finger sucking *giggles*, domestic!alastor, reader and alastor being an absloute power couple, blood, alcohol consumption, dancing
☒ Word Count: 6,276
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You often dreamt of trading places with your dear old friend, Elaine. She had it all; money, family, respect.
You, on the other hand, had none of those things.
When your parents left without notice on your eleventh birthday— you ended up homeless in a matter of weeks. Elaine’s family took you in out of pity, and they made it very known throughout your childhood that they only cared for you to make themselves out to be saints. It didn't take a fool to see that they treated their own flesh and blood better than the rubble they picked up off the streets.
Elaine was often condescending toward you, but you put up with the brunt of it. It's not like you had any other choice- and when her father offered you a typist gig at his local radio broadcasting studio- you had no other option but to accept.
Your treatment from others at the studio was no better than the one you received at home. 
If you could even call that loveless place a home.
The broadcasting biz was male-dominated, as most jobs were in your day. So, of course your counterparts looked down upon you as a woman. You were less than to them, and the constant berating about how you should be wed by now with kids to dote on ticked you off even further.
That was not on the itinerary for you. 
The plan was to save enough of the slim earnings you made being a typist to run far away from this place. To be free of these people, from this town. You dreamt about how lovely it would be not to bite your tongue and endure all the nasty things people spat at you just to have a roof over your head.
Soon, just a little bit longer. 
Grin and bear it. Don't let them know what you hide behind the façade.
"My, my! What a lovely smile!" A smooth voice pulled you from your stupor. You flinched back from your desk as the man standing before you ducked low- extending his hand.
"What's your name, little darling? I'm Alastor! It's a pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!" You took the man's hand, shaking it slowly sharing your name, and offering the same pleasantries, before peering up to get a good look at this Alastor fellow.
Based on first impressions, you thought he was a well-put-together fellow. His crimson vest hugged his slender frame well, you noted. His white dress shirt underneath contrasted beautifully with the seamless leather gloves adorning his large hands. The black bowtie was simply the cherry on top of his polished look. His features were handsome, and that darling smile of his caused your face to grow hot. His chestnut eyes peered at you behind his round-framed glasses, gazing at you as if you hung the stars in the night sky. 
You had never been captivated by a man until this very instant. You always believed romance was a waste of time. But now... you weren't feeling as opposed.
"Say, what brings a fella like you to a place like this?" You stood from your seat as his hand released yours. His gloved fingertips lingered on your palm for a moment- but it was long enough for you to notice.
"Why a job, of course! You're looking at the new host of the biggest radio broadcast in all of Louisiana!" Alastor's grin widened as he puffed out his chest proudly, bringing his hands up to straighten out his bowtie.
"Oh, my! Congratulations, Mister. I look forward to working with you." Your voice was as lively as ever, putting in your best effort to come off as friendly. Alastor's deep chestnut eyes studied yours. It was almost intimidating. 
Almost.
"Just call me Alastor, my dear! A beauty such as yourself is more than qualified to be on a first-name basis with me." His flirtatious nature had your heart rate accelerating at an alarming gait. Plus, the wink he shot your way to emphasize his statement only added fuel to the fire.
You were at a loss for words, simply nodding in agreement at his terms. Your gaze averted from Alastor's as you rubbed at your arm nervously. You had never been this flustered before. It was... uncharacteristically exciting for you. "Excuse my fowardness darling, but would you allow me to take you dancing tonight? It is a cause for celebration, after all!"
His offer left you stammering as you clutched your arm tightly, your sweaty palm bleeding through your vermilion dress sleeve. "Are you positive you want to celebrate with a woman you only just met?" You chuckled nervously, meeting his gaze once more.
"It would be my pleasure, little darling." You swore your heart skipped a beat as those words left his lips. Alastor was an enigma of a man, and he left you needing to know more about him. "If you insist! I'm flattered, truly."
Alastor chuckled lowly at your words as he took ahold of your hand once more. This time, he turned your palm downward before pulling the back of your hand up to his lips. Alastor's eyes bored into yours as he placed a chaste kiss atop your knuckles. His lips lingered on your skin for a few beats longer until he inevitability abjured from you.
"Lovely! I'll be waiting in the lobby once the workload is finished for the day. Meet me there?" You could only nod in agreement as your heartbeat resounded in your ears. Alastor bid you farewell, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
He just asked you on a date- didn't he? 
Shit, shit- shit! A relationship was not on your to-do list.
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The workday trickled on slowly. You were beside yourself— too focused on your plans with Alastor tonight.
Was your dress formal enough? It’s not like you could go home and change now— and you didn’t have the proper heels on. The pair that you usually switched into before you went dancing.
It would be fine— why were you even stressing over the little details?
More importantly… what were Alastor’s intentions with this— date?
You mulled it over the whole trip to the lobby of your workplace. You felt your nerves prickle your skin when your eyes met Alastor’s. 
He was already waiting patiently for you near the exit. Alastor had a blazer on now, you noted— and he was smiling wider than ever. “Ah, there you are! Ready to head out, dear?”
Alastor’s voice was equivalent to a smooth amaretto. Silky and delightful, with a little bit of an edge to it. Your mouth felt like it was full of cotton from the nerves— and all you could muster was a quick nod.
“Wonderful! We better get going while the night is still young— ha!” Alastor opened the door, tilting his head; gesturing toward the exit. You got the hint, wobbly legs guiding you out of the building and to the dimly lit street.
You knew a speakeasy just up the other street, so you figured that was the spot Alastor intended on taking you. As your feet led you in the direction of the bar, Alastor let out an amused hum. “My, my… am I correct to assume you know your way around these parts of town?” You giggled nervously, as you felt Alastor’s arm brush up against yours as he walked beside you.
“You’re spot on. I’ve lived here all my life, and for a brief period, I was living on these streets.” Your voice was quiet as those words left your lips. Perhaps you should have kept that detail to yourself. You kept your eyes forward as you walked along the sidewalk. But you could feel Alastor’s eyes on you— without peeking over.
“Might I ask why, darling?” You swallowed harshly, not expecting a follow-up question. You secretly hoped Alastor would have skirted past that little detail about your past. “Ah well, my parents moved out of town on my eleventh birthday. I think they forgot what day it was, truthfully. They were too hopped up on pills and booze,” You laughed bitterly at the memory before continuing. “My parents owed the bank a lot of money, you see, so the first thing those brokers collected was the house I still lived in at the time.”
You shook your head in disbelief, scoffing as you continued the recollection of your youth. “Those money-hungry sharks didn’t even give me a month to collect my things or find somewhere to shack up. When the cops arrived, I told them I’d be staying with a relative— but that was a bold-faced lie!” The speakeasy was in your sights, so you tried to get to the end of this pitiful little tail. “Long story short— I lived on the streets for a couple of weeks until my friend’s parents took me in.”
Alastor swiftly opened the bar door for you, gesturing you in. You were met by the smooth sound of jazz the moment you stepped foot in the joint. The smell of cigarettes and liquor saturated the space. Alastor interlocked your arm with his as he led you to a nearby table. You felt heat rush to your face from the unexpected touch. “I’m truly sorry you had to experience such hardships at such a young age, my dear. That must have been very difficult for you to process.” Alastor’s voice was soft as he offered his sympathy. He pulled the wooden chair out, allowing you to sit comfortably. Alastor gently pushed your seat in before taking his across from you.
“Thanks for saying so. You’re the first person to actually consider my feelings.” You chuckled, raising your hand and gesturing your fingers in a come hither motion to grab the waiter's attention. “What ever do you mean?” Alastor propped his elbows on the table, cupping his face with his hands as he leaned forward. His eyes swirled with curiosity. Alastor was genuinely curious to know you better— your heart skipped a beat from the notion.
“Well— most people just praise Elaine— that’s my friend… if you could even call her that— anyway, as I was saying! Most folks boast about how heavenly Elaine’s parents are for taking in a poor old nobody like me.” The waitress knew you well, so he kindly placed your usual atop the creaky table. One for you and one for your date. You offered the fellow a warm thanks before taking a sip.
“Praise? Those folks did the bare minimum! Tell me more about your friendship with Elaine, hm?” Alastor didn’t bother downing the liquor just yet. He was too enthralled by you and your musings. You felt nervous under his curious eyes— so you took another sip of the saccharine quencher before continuing. “You sure—? I feel like I’ve been talking an awful lot, and where are my manners? I haven’t asked you a single thing!” You shook your head in disbelief, feeling embarrassed with yourself for your rude display.
Alastor’s gloved fingers wrapped around your hand in the blink of an eye. Your eyes flickered down to where the two of you were now connected before his voice tore your gaze back to his face. “Nonsense, my dearest! Please, I insist. I’d be delighted to know more about you.” His words were so earnest, and he spoke with much confidence. All you could focus on was the feeling of his gloved fingertips caressing the back of your palm and the echo of your heartbeat resounding in your ears.
“Alright— if you insist… but if I ramble too much, just tell me to shut it, will ya?” You downed the last of your drink as a laugh escaped Alastor. “I would never silence you, darling. Don’t ever allow a single soul to treat you that way for that matter, understood? Now, carry on!” You felt your blood pressure spike from his kindness, and your hand twitched under his grasp from the giddiness you felt before you continued on. “U-Understood. Anyway, um, Elaine is an old-school buddy of mine. But we grew apart the older we got… so, by the time we reached junior high, she practically hated my guts!” You laughed at the recollection as the alcohol buzz began to kick in.
“Elaine would make up nasty rumors about me and then deny the fact that she did. Any other friend I tried to make, Elaine would somehow do or say something to make them dislike me. I couldn’t do anything about it— I had to play nice because of the living conditions. I still do!” Alastor’s eyes never left yours, and neither did his hand. He continued to rub the back of your palm soothingly as you rambled on.
“Even my job at the radio station… it wasn’t my choice. But Elaine’s father owns the company, so he offered me the typist position. Not like it was really an offer, though— I had no choice but to accept the opportunity. Otherwise, I would have been ungrateful. Christ, I really hate those folks… they look at me as if I’m—“
“—Scum?” Alastor chimed in. His voice was low as he leaned in closer. Your head was a bit fuzzy from the alcohol as you felt his breath fan across your cheeks. “Yeah… like scum.” You felt his hand tighten around yours. His smile was smaller than before, a bit more rigid, for that matter. 
“I knew you and I were the same. The moment laid eyes on you, I knew,” Alastor paused, bringing his free hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“You see, I was treated that same way my entire life, my dear. Until I decided I was quite the opposite of what those disrespectful wretches deemed me as.” His hand lingered by your face, daring to cup your cheek. 
Alastor's breath had a hint of coffee and spice to it— you noted— as his face inched even closer to yours. “And you are too, my dear. Those fools don’t hold a candle to your magnificence.” Your body felt light, and all you could focus on was Alastor’s chestnut eyes— every breath you took fogged up his glasses a little.
“You really think so?” You muttered, a lazy grin stretching across your face as Alastor finally allowed his gloved palm to rest against your cheek. 
"I know so, my sweet girl.” He caressed your burning face with much tenderness. Your heart was beating a mile a minute, and your thoughts were all out of sorts as you tried to articulate a proper sentence in your drunken stupor. 
“What did you mean before when you said— that you and I are one and the same?”
Alastor let out a soft chuckle, causing your eyes to flutter shut for a moment. He leaned over the table, invading your personal space. Dipping his face low— lips lingering next to your ear. “You use your smile as a tool. Hiding how you truly feel behind that pretty little mask of yours.” Your breath hitched from his words— was it that obvious? Could everyone tell that your welcoming smile was nothing but a lie? Before you could spiral further— and as if Alastor could sense your worries— he eased your mind with his words. “Worry not, my dear. Only I can see through your façade. One should recognize themselves when looking into a mirror, yes?”
Alastor slowly pulled his head back. Allowing his face to come into your line of sight. “So you… and I… are alike in that way, huh?” You mumbled out, letting an airy chuckle escape you. Alastor squeezed your hand once more before he leaned back in his chair. You watched as the man sitting before you picked up his untouched glass of liquor. He downed his drink in the blink of an eye slamming his glass against the table before standing up from his seat.
“I take pride in keeping my promises, and I have intention to dance with you tonight, my dear. So, shall we?” Alastor outstretched his hands toward you, his toothy grin cascading across his features. You took hold of him without hesitation, giggling youthfully when he pulled you to your feet with ease. “I’d be delighted!” Alastor wasted no time pulling you to the open floor. The music was as vibrant as ever now that you were closer to the live band. The vibrations of the music reverberated through your sternum; as did the butterflies when you felt Alastor’s large palm drape around the small of your back.
His other hand took ahold of yours, and instinctively, you placed your other palm flat against his shoulder. Alastor began leading you to the melody of the song. Your cheeks hurt from how wide your grin was. You couldn’t remember the last time you smiled and meant it before tonight— all thanks to this mysterious man you met today. “Alastor, I know we only just met, but I feel like I’ve known you all my life!” You shouted loud enough for only Alastor to hear beyond the music. His chestnut eyes swirled with an emotion you couldn’t quite put your finger on as his eyebrows lifted in shock.
“You took the words right out of my mouth, my dearest! The moment I saw you, I knew you would be truly magnificent.” Alastor dipped you low, his grasp on you tightening to support you. He was slow when he dragged your upper half back up, allowing your chest to slot against his own. 
“Well, did I meet your expectations?” You joked. Alastor ducked his head low, allowing his face to invade your personal space. This time, his nose brushed against yours, lips mere centimeters from colliding. 
“You exceeded them.” Alastor’s voice was quiet, but you heard him. Loud and clear. 
This moment felt too good to be true, and the longer you gazed into his captivating eyes, the more lost you became in Alastor. Your lips trembled in anticipation— and your hand at his shoulder clenched and unclenched— a small habit to help ease the nerves. 
“Would it be foolish of me to say that I… feel like I’m falling for you.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you searched for any displeasure that dared to cross his face from your confession— but you found none.
“And if I admitted to reciprocating those feelings… would that make me outlandish as well?” Alastor’s hand released yours, now opting to slide up between your bodies to cup your chin beneath his gloved fingertips. He tilted your head up just a touch more. 
Alastor finally closed the gap between your lips and his. Your eyes widened in shock from the chaste kiss he gave you. You caught Alastor’s intense stare on you while he pressed further into you before your eyelids fluttered shut. The grip you had on his shoulder tightened as his lips danced along yours. They were warm and cracked slightly from his incessant smiling. But you didn’t mind it one bit. He tasted of your favorite liquor and conviction. 
Your mind went fuzzy from the mix of alcohol running through your bloodstream and the feeling of sharing your very first kiss with a man you met only earlier today.
It’s strange. Even though you only crossed paths with Alastor this morning— he was the first person in your life to ever see you; the real you. The woman you kept hidden behind a plethora of masks and musings. You prided yourself on your foolproof façade, so when Alastor just waltzed past your guarded walls, it threw you for a loop. But this change of pace was the best thing that could have ever happened to you. For the first time in your life, you felt a sense of control over your own life— over your own freedom. Alastor believed in you, so why shouldn’t you believe in yourself?
Alastor parted his lips from yours slowly, savoring the moment with you for as long as he could. Your eyelids peeled open, taking in Alastor's pleased countenance. "Oh, my darling. There's no way I'm letting you out of my sight now."
Your heart felt full as Alastor continued his lead. You both danced to the melodic sounds, relishing in the shared embrace. That night was one that you cherished for months to come. But on the contrary, your blossoming relationship with Alastor solidified the beginning of the end. 
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You could hardly stay away from Alastor after your first date. It was as if a magnetic force was pulling you to him. He walked you home from the radio station each night and met you at your doorstep each morning. He even told you one time that he memorized absloutely every part of your day so you could always have time for each other. It was the little things that made you fall even harder for him. Alastor would leave a bouquet of roses atop your desk every Friday when you took your lunch break so that when you arrived back, you would be pleasantly surprised by his gesture.
Alastor was a proper gentleman, and his kindness and care toward you almost made you forget about the rotten things in your life— almost.
Elaine grew jealous of your new beau. She noticed you were livelier than ever, and that just wouldn't cut it. Misery loves company, after all.
She had her father triple your workload, forcing you to stay after hours. It took a toll on you and made it harder to keep time for Alastor. 
But that wasn’t all— your room would be trashed by the time you came home. And somehow, your very few belongings started going missing. 
The last of your patience went out the window when you noticed the locket Alastor gifted you for your one-month anniversary was nowhere to be found. 
It didn’t take a genius to realize Elaine was behind your sudden stroke of bad luck. You put up with the torment all your life, but not anymore. You were at your wits end with Elaine and her arrogant family. 
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“Christ, I hate that wicked woman!” You groaned in frustration as you barged into Alastor’s apartment. The lanky man whipped his head in your direction from where he sat at the piano. His fingers stilled against the keys, ending his song with a dull note. “What did she do this time, my dear?” You stormed over to him before slotting yourself beside Alastor on the piano bench. 
“The locket you gave me for our one-month anniversary is missing! She stole it— I just know it!” You gritted through bared teeth. Alastor wrapped an arm around your shoulder, hugging you close to his side as he cooed at you. “You know, the offer to move in with me still stands.” His voice was gentle as he placed a kiss atop your head. His large palm smoothed over your arm; in an attempt to ease your nerves. 
Heat rose to your face from the mention of his proposition. Sure, you thought about it countlessly. But you and Alastor were only approaching that six-month mark of your flourishing relationship. You always believed in the notion of waiting to live with a partner until after marriage. That’s what you conveyed Alastor. “You know we can’t… unless you are willing to get hitched tomorrow,” You joked, turning your head slightly to peer up at him. 
“Darling, you know I would marry you in a heartbeat. But one of us is not ready for marriage quite yet!” He quipped, dipping low and nuzzling his nose into yours. Your heart did a flip from his unyielding confession. 
You knew Alastor would do anything for you at this point— this man was like no other. He worshipped the ground you walked on, yet you still were on the fence about marriage. You still had your personal goals you wanted to achieve before tying the knot, and Alastor respected your wishes. But you knew deep down he was aching to put a ring on your finger and claim you as his for good. 
“Hey— don’t tease! I just… It’s becoming harder to put up with their nonsense. I wish they would all disappear! Elaine, her father, and her mother.” You let out a long sigh as your body slumped forward. You rested your head atop Alastor’s broad shoulder, smiling softly at his familiar scent. 
“Well, I could make that a reality for you, my sweet girl.” Alastor’s voice was low and dripping with mystery. You laughed at his cryptic utterance. “Yeah, by doing what? Throwing them in a ditch?” You joked, raising a brow as his hand halted against your arm. The air became thick with tension as the silence grew louder. 
“…Well yes, my dear! But the ditch part would be after all the fun.” You quickly turned to face him, your frantic eyes scanning his features for any semblance of falsehood. You found nothing of the sort. 
Alastor’s features were as relaxed as ever. As if he asked you something as mundane as 'what day was it?’
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Your voice was level as your eyes locked with his chestnut ones. You nervously anticipated his response. “Quite so! Have you noticed the lack of journalists around the radio station lately?" His question threw you for a loop. 
Now that you thought about it- yeah, there has been a lack of jerks around the office. The same fellows that undermined you just for existing. 
“Well now that you mention it— yeah, I have. What does that have to do with anything?” You tilted your head slightly, still not following where your boyfriend was going with this. Alastor’s grin sharpened as his eyes flickered to your lips. “My, dearest, you are too pure for your own good. It drives me crazy.” Alastor’s other hand drifted from the piano keys. His thumb and forefinger came up to grasp your chin. He pulled you in close as his eyes flickered back to yours. 
“Well, I took care of those nasty good-for-nothings! They are resting comfortably in a ditch deep within the preserve. So, no need to worry your pretty little head over it!” Your eyes widened from his confession— his even tone and frenzied stare proved that what he said was factual. 
“They had it coming! Speaking down to you in such a way. I could hardly stand it any longer, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.” Alastor sounded pleased with himself as he confessed to murder so casually. Your eyebrows rose in shock as he tugged you closer. Your lips ghosted over his. “You killed those men for my sake?” 
You could smell the whiskey on his breath from this proximity. Alastor’s hand— that rested on your arm— now found purchase around your waist. “Indeed, and I would do it again in a heartbeat for your sake.” You could sense his anticipation to kiss you at that moment. 
His love for you was suffocating in the best way possible. You didn’t know you were capable of drowning until you sank into his touch. “And I would take pleasure in ending Elaine and her parents’ lives. If it meant your precious mind would be at ease.” 
Your heart fluttered as you closed the gap. Your lips molded against his, moving in tandem. You turned your body toward him through your shared embrace, sliding a leg up and over the piano bench— now straddling the seat. Alastor’s grip on your waist tightened. His fingertips twitched with need as they danced further along your side. You reached out for him, desperately carding your hands through his chestnut locks. Alastor’s chest pressed tightly into yours as his lips moved against yours with a searing desire. You only dared to pull back when your lungs started burning. Alastor rested his forehead against yours as you shared the same air. 
“You really mean it?” You asked breathlessly, allowing your hands to cup his cheeks. 
“My dear, I would die for you,” Alastor paused, the pad of his thumb swiping across your bottom lip sensually. 
“I would lie for you,” His thumb pushed past your parted lips, and your tongue instinctively swirled around his deft digit. 
“I would happily follow you to hell if you asked me to.” You gave his finger a playful suck, reveling in the sight of Alastor’s deep blush. 
His chestnut gaze fixated on your mouth as you pulled off of his thumb with a wet pop. Alastor shuddered at your sultry display. His grip on your waist was firm. 
“Please, Alastor. I want to be a part of it this time. We will be unstoppable together.” 
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Alastor swore he fell in love with you a thousand times over the moment those words left your lips. You couldn’t be any more perfect for him. 
Alastor wanted to tell the whole world about the colors he saw in your eyes; the colors a man out of love could never recognize. He truthfully would have married you the first day you met. It was fixation at first sight. 
He was overjoyed to commit murder alongside you— one of the many memorable first times you would come to share. Alastor saw the pieces fall into place before his very eyes the moment he witnessed you take someone’s life. 
The frenzied stare you harbored; the blood spattering over your perfect face, decorating your smile in a picturesque way. Alastor swore meeting you was his life purpose, and assisting you on your first kill solidified that sentiment for him. 
Alastor could not suppress the urge to touch you at that moment. He pulled you close, taking the lead like many times before. You danced around the dead bodies, laughter filling the barren space as the record player skipped from the other room. 
He always knew red was your color. The first time you met, you were wearing a vermillion dress. But the deep crimson blood covering you from head to toe was your best look yet— he thought. 
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After you both hid the evidence and any proof of life— fabricating notes on Elaine and her parents' behalf to make it seem like they went abroad— you celebrated. 
Celebrated the past no longer having you in its clutches. 
Celebrated the freedom of never having to grin and bear it to survive; ever again. 
Celebrated the ever-growing love you held for Alastor— as he did you. 
Celebrated the new beginnings and the best that was yet to come. 
You saw life in a new light from that day forward, seizing each day with delight. 
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With Elaine’s father out of the picture, Alastor became the man in charge at the radio station. He had full creative freedom to take his radio show in any direction he pleased. If folks dared to disagree, Alastor would promptly take care of them. 
Business was booming for Alastor at the radio station, and you were finally out pursuing hobbies and careers that inspired you. 
Alastor ended up popping the question a couple of months later as things began to settle down for you both. It was romantic, really. His gesture was over the top and grand in the best way possible but still entirely authentic to Alastor. You finally felt ready to take the next step in your relationship. And so, you said yes. 
Alastor was over the moon when you agreed. You could have sworn you saw a single tear roll down his cheek— but he denies it vehemently. 
You didn’t have any friends or family, and neither did Alastor— with his mom having passed years prior, so you truthfully had no need for a grand ceremony. Alastor sorted out the date for you to be wed. The anticipation only elevated your excitement by the day. And when the date finally approached, you could hardly contain your joy. 
You took on the day like any other— you made breakfast, hung the laundry on the clotheslines, participated in your favorite pastimes, and met up with Alastor in the preserve to assist him in burying his most recent victim. 
You didn’t know the dead fellow, but you were sure Alastor had a fair reason for killing him. The man probably took the last jar of special spice from the store that Alastor used to recreate his mother’s jambalaya— and in that case, the prick had it coming. 
It was dusk. The sky was a mesmerizing red and orange ombré as you walked hand in hand through the woods with Alastor. Your free hand held a shovel, and his free hand gripped the ankle of the deceased man whom he dragged from behind along the rocky path. Now and then, the dead man’s clothing would cling to a stubborn stone, making Alastor halt in his stride. You would share a chuckle before he tugged the man free, continuing down the path with you by his side. 
You were so excited to get this over with, so you could head to the courthouse with your beloved Alastor. As you recited your vows in your head, you suddenly heard a loud boom before your hearing failed you entirely. Everything was motionless after that. 
Your mind scarcely processed what had happened until you turned to face Alastor. The sight before you had your stomach in knots. Your beloved was bleeding from his forehead, and as if you were in slow motion— your arms reached up to him as his legs buckled beneath him. You knew you were screaming by the burning sensation in your throat, but your ears were still ringing in a deafening manner. The last thing your conscious mind ever saw was the grim view of all light leaving Alastor’s eyes. 
Those same eyes that grounded you. That brought you purpose and offered you nothing but love and devotion.
All of that was gone in a split second.
After that, you felt a searing pain in your head before your vision went dark. 
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It was as if you were underwater. You felt lighter than air as you sunk deeper into uncharted waters. You could hear muffled voices and flashing lights shining from the surface— but it was all out of reach. You just sunk peacefully. Enjoying the enshrouding darkness. 
However, your peace was torn from you as quickly as it was obtained. 
“She’s a Jane Doe. Poor girl got caught in the crossfire. I bet she didn’t even know the guy she was walking with was a serial killer!” Your eyes burned from the bright lights and the nauseating white ceiling that took up your line of sight as the distant people continued to chatter. “I bet he tricked her into thinking he was a good guy— bet he led her out in those woods just so he could kill her like that poor fellow he was dragging out there!” 
The rhythmic beeping increased as all your focus shifted to the intense shooting pain coming from your head. “Oh— she’s awake! Miss, can you hear me?” You groaned softly as an older woman came into your line of sight. She was peering over you. You must have been lying down— you thought. 
“Loud and clear.” You mumbled, trying to sit up only to be pushed back down by the stranger. “Miss you can’t do that! You’re in the hospital. You suffered from a severe injury. Please, don’t make any sudden movements.” Her words took a moment to process through your semi-conscious mind. 
“What happened to me?” You managed to mutter as you closed your eyes. The intense lights were causing your head to ache even worse. “Miss, you were shot in the head. It was a hunting accident gone wrong,” The nurse paused, giving you a moment to digest her words before continuing. 
“Turns out the man you were out in those woods with was a wanted serial killer. That Alastor fellow was an active murderer for decades! The papers say he was good at steering clear of the cops for all these years. The hunter wasn’t even aiming for you both. His target was a nearby deer,” Your mind was struggling to piece things together as the nurse rambled along. 
“The bullet you took probably was the exact reason you’re still alive! Who knows what that maniac would have done to you? Which reminds me, do you remember your name, sweetheart? You didn’t have identification on your person. We asked around the area to see if anyone recognizes you, but we've had no luck with that.” 
You were surely dreaming, right? 
Everything this woman was saying sounded outlandish. How did you even end up in a situation like that, and more importantly— 
Wait… what is your name? 
“I… I don’t know. I can’t… remember a thing.” You shook your head, which only caused you more pain as your eyes shot open. You were still met by the sight of the noisy nurse, and the white hospital walls. 
Nope, not a dream.
The nurse looked at you with a horrified look. “Oh geez… the doctor said your injury could cause memory loss, but it was a slim chance. Let me go fetch him. This is way out of my pay grade.” The sound of her footsteps echoed through your head before they slowly dissipated. You gaped up at the blank wall. 
A clean slate, nothing to give the surface any character. 
Ironic. 
You had no clue who you were and no memories of your life before this accident. 
You were left with more questions than answers. 
The only thing you knew about yourself was that you were one of many Jane Doe's. 
Fuck.
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tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx @zombiesnips-blog @stawberrypimpsimp @wonderlandangelsposts @villxinmiixx @persephoneblck @maxlynn17 @littledolly2345 @karolinda007-blog @falling-endlessly @greekyoghurtwithberries @bladeismine @aloraaaxcrystalzx @doctorswife221b @scaramoochiie @fairyv-ice @chirikoheina @veroneverleft @tired-of-life-86 @saccharine-nectarine @c-thegingergirl @tsunaki @geminixbunny @softangxlicss @alleystore @sirens-and-moonflowers @fairyv-ice @honey132 @alastorsaries @zenix108 @michi-keinz
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ssahotchnerr · 2 months
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What if a drabble about this https://twitter.com/bxnksi_/status/1754954693329998141?t=QfzPSplktYI04Owlt-gzSg&s=19 I just know hotch's gonna be taking that kiss IMMEDIATELY like no thoughts. He'll be like, "screw my point and kiss me".
priorities
this cw; bau!reader, established relationship, kissing, light suggestion, brief arguing into fluff, 6x22 references - this relates to aaron coaching jack's soccer team <3
the team's prying eyes couldn't help but be directed upwards as they attempted to work, due to the visual of you and aaron going at it through his office window. your hurried and raising voice also drifted out his slightly ajar door from time to time.
"it's not fair to you aaron." you insisted, mentally urging him to stop being so stubborn and understand your point. "i get that they need a coach, and it's wonderful they thought of you, but you're too preoccupied."
aaron scoffed lightly, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his desk, "preoccupied?"
you gave him a look - c'mon. it was a rather accusatory word, you'd admit it, but he knew what you meant. "the league should be resolving their own problems."
"isn't them asking an attempt to do so?"
"but it's not your problem, or is it your responsibility to accept. i know you feel obligated to and," you reached out to touch his arm affectionately, reminding him you were on his side. "it's so sweet of you to jump at it. but please think about it realistically."
aaron exhaled a breath of his own, turning his eyes away from yours in a subtle eye roll.
"aaron," you gaped at him, your frustration quickly turning into annoyance. "you're in the fbi. you're a unit chief, for god's sake. don't you think they should ask someone who's not on such a strict, unpredictable schedule? what happens when you can't make it to a practice? to a game?"
as you fired off all the reasonings, even throwing in the example that jessica did swing by once to pick up jack upon getting a call for a case - aaron fell quiet, knowing you were right.
he felt obligated; being unreservedly himself, he wanted to be the one to step up and take the initiative. jack's soccer team deserved someone willing and wanting to provide their undivided attention as coach, given majority of the parents were more preoccupied by their phones than watching their own kid. focus - he could provide such.
another convincing factor, being coach would provide him more time with jack. these days, the fact jack was growing up, rapidly, was slowly sinking in. before he knew it, aaron would blink and jack would prefer to do anything else than to hang around his father.
but again, from a realistic standpoint, you were right. trying to navigate a soccer team with his crazy schedule would be extremely difficult; the potential aspect of not being around, and then potentially not being able to find reliable cover - an inevitable, ongoing complication, despite how badly he wished he could manage it.
aaron hadn't meant for this to turn into a disagreement either. to be fair, he had just returned from a meeting with strauss, which always amp'ed up his disposition in one way or another.
but now you were getting heated, and as you thoroughly stated your case, aaron's eyes involuntarily kept flicking down to your lips. the more he attempted to avert his eyes away, they only lingered more.
and not wanting to argue further, he quickly surrendered to his own argument, the only thought beginning to maintain importance was how badly he wanted - no, needed - to kiss you.
"go ahead, say it."
your remark regained his attention, "say what?"
"i know that look, so go ahead." you crossed your arms, huffing a frustrated breath of air out of your nose. you had mistaken his lack of focus for another impending, contrasting detail of his, "say it."
"kiss me."
your expression changed at once; irritation shifting to a softened confusion. "what?"
"what? do you want me to beg?" aaron tossed out, a glint surfacing in his eyes and warming you from the middle out, "fine, you're right, forget about it. now kiss me."
you opened your mouth to respond, but aaron took that as an opportunity to weave his fingers through the belt loops of your pants, pulling you strictly against him and pressing his lips to yours.
once your initial surprise wore off, and focusing on how soft aaron's lips felt on yours, you kissed him in return with just an equal amount of gentle vigor.
you pulled away, your mind attempting to resist his everlasting temptation, bringing your index finger to his chest. "this isn't resolvin-"
but aaron chased your lips, immediately pressing his back to yours and stopping you mid-sentence. you reciprocated eagerly, sighing softly against his lips in content as your fingers found hold on the sides of his suit jacket.
"you're absolutely ridiculous." you laughed against his lips, providing one more chaste kiss before successfully pulling away, your cheeks flushed.
"am i?" he quipped back, rather playfully as his eyebrows rose, a cheeky expression plastered on his face - one of which only made you want to kiss him wildly.
"yeah, you are." you bantered back, exhaling to ease yourself back to the real world, which aaron also assisted in with his next statement, dropping the matter yet again.
"i'm still expecting your supplementary report on the houston case by the end of the day." he said, his hand sliding down your back and patting your ass, playfully urging you to get a move on. "get back to work."
you nearly released an audible groan but instead rolled your eyes, bringing yourself to peck aaron's lips once more. on your way out, you tossed over your shoulder. "this discussion isn't over, you know."
due to your restrained line of vision, you missed the small smirk of his lips. "and if it ends similarly, i'll be looking forward to it."
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generalsmemories · 9 months
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To raise a child
✧ jing yuan x gn!reader ft. yanqing (platonic)
✧ based on the asks: 3 requests asking for a family fic with jing yuan and yanqing
✧ synopsis: raising a child is always hard, even when you're a long life species with a lot of experiences.
✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, found family trope (a.k.a my one weakness with every media), yanqing & reader have a slight rocky start, mentions of other characters, sentences in italics are readers thoughts.
✧ a/n: i'm not gonna chuck angst into a found family trope unless i feel particulary miserable, they just gonna have a good ole time being parents to a yanqing from when he was a wee babie to the lieutenant he is today - also a lot of this is my own interpretation SINCE I DON'T GET A CRUMB ON HOW THE HELL THIS MAN FOUND MY BABY. not beta-ed like usual i'm sorry.
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The first time you were told about Yanqing's existence was when you were not onboard Luofu, which honestly made the first meeting between the two of you a lot worse.
"... Pardon, he found what now while I'm away?" you stare bewildreded at the messenger before you while clutching the letter Jing Yuan had written to you - you can practically hear his easy-going voice resound in your head through the words before you.
"What do you mean he suddenly picked up a whole child?!"
Safe to say that the Luofu were turned upside down by the time you came back to the ship. Rumours spread amongst the citizens, gossip between the storytellers and the newsboard retelling the latest news and constantly updating on any new "information" they had gotten.
To say you got stopped at every corner before you even stepped foot back in land was an understatement. You practically had a crowd waiting for you - it was only by the assistance of Yukong that you had managed to worm yourself out of the crowd and hightail home.
Maybe it's because Jing Yuan knew you would come home first, or maybe it's because he was aware that you had a lot of questions for him. Which was why you had gotten a text prior to landing with the single message of:
"Decided to take the day off today <3"
Safe to say he was left on read.
"Jing Yuan, what has gotten into you-" are the first words that leaves your mouth when you slam your entrance doors open, only for your eyes to widen when Jing Yuan is already waiting for you at the foyer. Hands behind his back and sporting his signature smile, but your gaze isn't at your lover before you.
Rather it was on the smaller child that was hiding behind his legs, he was by no means scared of your sudden appearance you noticed. Rather, he was sizing you up and down with a fierce gaze, almost like a lion cub who had just found its first prey.
The glare made your previous anger and confusion fade into a more surprised shock, rendering you speechless on how to proceed further. Jing Yuan steps in after seeing your anger dissipate upon seeing the fierce boy, raising a hand to ruffle Yanqing's hair before he directs his gaze back to you who is still staring at Yanqing in mild surprise.
"He's a feisty one isn't he?" is what he utters softly, and it's the slight exhaustion in his voice that causes you to let your guard down and put aside your confusion and need for answers aside.
Right now there's a young child before you, a child that you don't know the lineage of - but a child that Jing Yuan himself had picked up and stood his ground against public opinion for.
And Jing Yuan didn't do things without reason.
But you're well aware that he's also the kind to not tell you much as to why he had done a few decisions. As futile as you know it is, you would still try to get something out of him later. But for now, you would have to try to give a better impression of yourself to this kid who you're pretty sure sees you as anything, but a person with good intentions.
... What do you say to a child that is currently holding animosity towards you?
Seeing your distraught face makes Jing Yuan let out a chuckle, glancing down at Yanqing who is still staring fiercly at you, "They're not someone you should be on guard with. That's my spouse, they're just surprised by your sudden arrival is all, Yanqing."
So his name is Yanqing.
The reassurance from Jing Yuan makes the young boy relax a bit, but you can still tell he's very much on guard against you, "... I'm Yanqing," he mutters quietly.
The two of you seem to have a long way to go from the first encounter.
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"... What were you thinking?" you question the moment Jing Yuan slides the door to your bedroom shut, you had spent the majority of the afternoon cleaning up a spare room for Yanqing to sleep in after the meeting while the two had headed out to prepare the paperwork for Yanqing to be offcially be recgonized as a Cloud Knight.
"... I saw potential?" he tries, but with one glance at your direction and being faced with your quirked eyebrow makes him let out a sigh instead, reaching a hand behind his head to pull the red ribbon tying his hair back.
He doesn't say anything as he makes his way over to you. Neither does he utter a word when he lets his entire weight fall on top of your own, the noise of surprise you let out making him chuckle, rubbing his face onto neck, "W-Wait, hold on. There's a literal child in this house now, what are you-"
"Dear, what are you thinking?" Jing Yuan snorts before you finish your sentence, wrapping his arms around your waist before flipping himself over so that you're laying on top of him, "Our schedule clashed together too much that it's been 2 years since I last saw you? And when I meet you again you looked like you were going to pull my head off of my own body, this is quite frankly the first instance where I get you all to myself," he explains, raising an eyebrow at your gradually reddening face, "Whatever you were imagining is beyond me, darling."
"... Shut up and tell me the truth already," you murmur before burying your face in his chest, lifting a closed fist to lightly hit his arm when you feel his chest rumble with his constrained laughter.
"I didn't lie when I said I saw potential. Despite his young age, Yanqing is quite gifted with the sword," he starts after a brief silence, fingers drumming along the spine of your back, "But it would be more accurate to say I'm preparing the future generation?" he muses out loud, sounding unsure himself which makes let out a chuckle, "Wow, I'm sure lady Fu Xuan would be delighted by the news of your possible retirement."
"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint our Master Diviner for another few decades unfortunately. She's still far too young to take up the mantle of the general."
You hum, raising your head up from his chest to make eye contact, Jing Yuan directing his gaze from staring up at the ceiling to instead stare at you as well, "Next time you're thinking of picking up a kid, give me a heads up? Or else you're going to end up on the news again like today with the headlines of you committing infidelity."
He laughs, hoisting you further up his body to peck your lips, "Please, I won't be picking up another child anytime soon. But maybe I need to show the citizens that I only have eyes for one person if they were swayed this easily by the apperance of one child."
"... Please don't say something that embarassing in front of Yanqing."
"See, you're already being a great parental figure."
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Great parental figure my ass.
Is what's currently running through your mind as you're once again, left alone with Jing Yuan's prodigal apprentince. it's been a few months after Yanqing's first arrival, and the relationship between the two of you seem to still be threading on thin ice.
Your relationship with the young prodigy hasn't gotten worse, but it has in no way improved either. Whenever Jing Yuan is not present amongst the three of you, Yanqing becomes extra reserved and takes extra caution to not bother you - which makes any attempt to even talk to him 10 times harder than it has to be.
Yanqing is out in the garden, brushing the fallen leaves into a neat pile while you're sitting by the living room table doing paperwork. And yet, ever since Jing Yuan had stepped out for some urgent business, the two of you haven't even spoken a single word to each other.
Yanqing was at an age where you didn't need to give him constant attention, but with the way you two had started on the wrong foot it felt a lot harder trying to get closer to him - mostly because the boy himself tries to not be a burden on you, which in a way has become a burden.
Not to mention, Jing Yuan spends the most time with him training him personally - so the time you spend with Yanqing is close to nothing compared to your lover.
The odds are truly against you at the moment.
At this point, the new paper scroll that you had rolled out were becoming useless with how long you had pressed the ink filled brush on it's surface, the gradual circle of ink stained paper growing with each passing minute.
Topics you can talk about.. Jing Yuan mentioned he was great with a sword, but it's been ages since I've held a sword myself till the point he's probably better than me...
Were you always this awkward with children?
Glancing at the clock, you notice it's almost time for your meetup with master Gongshu over at the Artisanship Commission. So with a reluctant sigh, you glance down at the paper scroll before you - that has long been ruined before you put the brush away and roll the scroll back up.
"... Yanqing I'm about to head to out to the Artisanship Commission, can you..." your voice dies down when you see the boy whip his head around the moment you mention the Commission. And although he tries to hide it, you would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his eyes at the mention of where you are going.
"... Do you want to join?" you end up asking instead.
You've never seen his facial expression change so much in just a few seconds. First you could tell he wanted to agree, but then you're pretty sure he managed to figure out why you were going and didn't want to be a burden, but still wanted to go. You soon saw hope come back to his eyes, presumably remembering that you personally asked, but you saw the same hope dwindle down when he probably thought that you asked just to include him.
The sight made you laugh, "... A child is a child after all, no matter where they are," you whisper quietly to yourself, "You won't be a bother, Yanqing. And wouldn't it be better for you to look around the Luofu a bit? I'm pretty sure Jing Yuan has only brought you to the Cloud Knights training area after all, we can even stop by Cloudbreath Sleeves to take your measurements so that you can get some tailor-made clothes and not Jing Yuan's old clothes."
That seemed to be the only reassurance he needed.
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You're pretty sure Yanqing hasn't noticed that your meeting with master Gongshu ended 15 minutes ago. Neither has he seemed to realize that the two of you have spent the next 15 minutes just observing his every reaction to the swords on display.
His eyes seemed particulary glued to an iridescent blue sword with a black handle, master Gongzhu giving a low whistle beside you, "He's got a good eye."
You roll your eyes, "Send me the invoice later," you reply back before stepping towards the awestruck boy, "Why not bring it home with us?" you ask, Yanqing jumping slightly in surprise, his head turning around with widened eyes, "I can't possibly ask that of you, I can just save up-"
"You're staring at it like it's your first love, Yanqing," you chuckle, reaching out to grab the handle, twirling it around before reaching for the scabbard right underneath where it was displayed - sliding the sword inside.
"Consider it a gift, for future endeavours."
He blinks, taking the scabbard from your hands, staring at the intricate design weaved into the metal - and you notice the faint tears forming at the corners of his eyes before the boy leaps into your arms to give you a hug, "I swear I'll treasure it, thank you!"
Perhaps too shocked by the sudden hug, you fail to realize that master Gongshu had quickly snapped a picture of the scene and sending it to a certain general.
Qingzu had to stop the very same general from storming away from the Divine of Foresight to head to the Artisanship Commission the very next minute.
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"... Well the two of you seem to have gotten a lot closer these past few months," Jing Yuan comments the moment he noticed the position you were currently in. You merely glared halfheartedly at him, but Jing Yuan made no effort to help you - instead walking over to bend down to peck your forehead, careful to not wake the child asleep on top of you.
"I told him to head home before me since I still had affairs to tend to, didn't think he would immediately collapse on top of you and doze off," Jing Yuan remarks with a laugh.
You had one hand supporting Yanqing weight on top of you so that he doesn't topple over, so you decide to use your other hand to reach over and flick Jing Yuan on the forhead - a flick he moved away from with a smirk, "He just dozed off mid-talk too. He was talking about your recent spar match before he just fell asleep," you say, "And to think he vehemently denied not needing a nap after a training session because he's not a child."
Jing Yuan lets out another laugh at that, effortlessly wrangling Yanqing away from your hold and hoisting him up in his arms without manaing to wake him up, "Well if you treat him like an adult, he'll show the temperament of a child as well."
"You should try to get some rest as well, dear. We can just order something from Aurum Alley later," Jing Yuan suggests, to which you merely nod to, standing up to stretch your limbs, "Join me then, I'm sure our dozing general is quite tired too."
"My, what an alluring offer. Can I assume that there's something more-"
"Don't push your luck."
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here's the 3 requests that wanted a family fic - i actually struggled a bit with how to do this, but alas - i just know future me will conjure something up again so have this as a teaser HAHA
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Pregnancy Reactions - 141, Los Vaqueros + König
Requested by Anon
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Honestly, he's stunned.
Doesn't matter how close you two are, his reaction will be the same; internally, he's panicking but on the outside? He's cold.
Probably would disappear for a while to think.
I don't think he necessarily didn't want kids - more so that he didn't want his child to end up growing up how he did, and so decided that he actively wouldn't pursue having any.
But naturally, life doesn't always work out like that.
He'd absolutely want to be a part of the child's life, he wouldn't up and leave, but it would take him a lot of time and effort to figure out how he was going to voice his concerns to you.
Doesn't like being vulnerable in any way shape or form, and talking about his past is something he avoids at all costs.
Simon wants to be able to be open with you and tell you everything but Ghost wants to shut himself off and keep it to himself.
He'd probably reappear out of the blue after a few days - wouldn't be surprised or annoyed if you were angry at him for disappearing, he expects it.
It would probably be further along in your pregnancy before he would start talking about his past - mainly snippets about how his father raised him, and why he'd been so distant with you.
He'd be the type to just watch you as you sleep - not in a creepy way, you just look so peaceful - and his eyes would trail over your growing bump, knowing that you were carrying his child and he would do anything to keep you safe.
Wouldn't want you going anywhere by yourself, especially when you're closer to your due date; doesn't trust people in general, especially strangers, so if he can't go with you he'd probably ask Johnny or one of the Team to go with you.
Feels the baby kick for the first time and he can't speak. Literally can't get a word out. There's this cocktail of emotions churning in his stomach, and all he can do is keep his hand on your bump, thumbing over the skin where he could feel his child moving.
This guy would probably scare the shit out of the Doctors when you go for your ultrasound appointments - he doesn't even say a word, he's just this hulking figure dressed in black sitting in the chair next to you, gaze burning through everyone else in the room.
He'd probably be deployed when you gave birth - would be as angry as a bear in a cage when he found out, chomping at the bit to get back to you.
The first time he held the baby, all wrapped up in their little blankets, he felt his heart swell.
They were so small in his arms, big eyes peering up at him in wonder at their Dad's face.
So innocent and pure, not yet hurt by the world.
He felt a tug in his stomach as he remembered how he felt when he held his nephew for the first time…
And he made a promise to both you and his little one that he would never let anyone hurt you or take you away from him.
Johnny "Soap" MacTavish
His first reaction? "Ah shite."
Now don't take that as him being angry or annoyed - he's not, he's just surprised. It's a knee jerk reaction.
Regardless if it was a one-night stand or you've been together for a while, he's going to be equal parts shocked and amazed at the prospect of being a Dad.
He'd thought about the prospect of having a family before but with his job, he just didn't think it was a possibility.
Goes with you to every appointment - if he's deployed, he phones and texts you when he can, asking how you and the "wee one" are doing.
Carries an ultrasound picture in his wallet and is definitely the type of guy who shows the Team every time it comes up in conversation - Ghost acts annoyed but was secretly honoured when Johnny said that he could be "Uncle Ghost."
The Team - well, mainly Soap, Gaz and sometimes Price - would try and decide on a nickname for the little one for when they were born; they decided on 'Suds,' since Soap and Suds sounded cool.
He's not really bothered about what gender the baby will be - a mini version of either of you would be amazing in his eyes, and as long as they're a happy and healthy baby that's all he could ever want.
Absolutely panics when you go into labour - and probably would faint at least once in the delivery room.
If you ended up having a caesarean section, his face would be absolutely priceless - he's no stranger to blood and gore, but the fact that you're awake and talking to him while your insides are being moved around makes him queasy.
Definitely cried when he held the baby for the first time - and wouldn't let them go for a while.
Captain John Price
Now this was something he wasn't expecting at all.
He's an older guy, and considering his role in the military and his lifestyle in general he didn't think he would ever have kids of his own.
Would be protective of you from the get-go, wouldn't let you do any heavy lifting or anything strenuous.
Probably wouldn't tell the Team outright - it would end up randomly coming up in conversation and they all would be so amazed and confused since they had no idea.
Absolutely dotes on you throughout your pregnancy - rubs your feet, gets you any foods or drinks that you're craving, even does that thing where he lifts your bump from behind to give you a reprieve from the weight.
Would love to have a son but would be equally as overjoyed if you had a daughter.
Definitely packs your maternity bag well in advance of your due date - everything is crisply folded and organised, showing his military training.
He's easily the most calm out of everyone when you go into labour - he may have cringed a bit when he saw the epidural needle but you didn't see anything.
I can see him as the Dad who doesn't do babytalk, but he doesn't speak to the baby like an adult either - he just chats away to them while they're bundled up against his chest, little hand wrapped around his thumb.
Yep, they'd absolutely have him wrapped around their finger from day one.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Similarly to Soap, his initial reaction is basically “oh shit.”
He’s still quite young, and he’d never thought that far ahead in his future about settling down and having a family, so he’s gobsmacked.
Gradually warms up to the idea of being a Dad - he’d probably end up going to Price for advice, and his Captain was secretly flattered.
His face lights up and a smile spreads across his face when you guys went for your first scan appointment; seeing the baby, like a little jelly bean on the screen, made things feel so much more real.
Eventually tells the Team - Soap pats him on the back, and may or may have not asked if he can be “Uncle Soap.”
Inwardly melts when he sees the baby shoes - they’re so tiny.
I can see him as the type of guy who buys little shoes that match ones he has - him and the baby would he fashion icons.
Absolutely shits himself when you go into labour - no amount of preparation was helping him in the moment, he almost forgot to lift the maternity bag on the way out the door.
Holds the baby with the upmost care - at first he was a bit awkward because it had been a while since he’d even been around a child, but once you showed him how to hold them properly, he was golden.
Like Price, the baby has him wrapped around their tiny fingers from the jump, and he promises to protect them from anything the world could throw their way.
Alejandro Vargas
He's a passionate man so regardless of whether it was a fling or if you had been together for a long time, he's ecstatic.
Rudy is probably the first person he tells, his friend patting him on the back in congratulations.
Definitely would already start looking at baby names - he'd have a list.
Very protective, doesn’t like you going anywhere on your own and only trusts certain people to be around you, especially when you’re in your third trimester.
Rudy is number one in his list of trusted people, alongside 141; it’s so strange seeing these hulking, intimidating men become so soft and caring around you.
I reckon he’d hope for a baby girl - he’s love his child endlessly regardless of their gender but something about being a girl Dad just fits him so well.
If the baby did end up being a girl though, he’s going to be her personal bodyguard - doesn’t matter if she’s 13 or 30, nobody will be messing with his daughter.
If the baby ended up being a boy, he’d be equally as happy - having a mini version of himself around the house would be adorable.
You’d have to try and tell him to stop buying baby clothes - every time he’d go to the store to get you whatever foods you were craving, he’d come back with a million different outfits and little shoes, and honestly you guys were running out of space to put it all.
Carries the ultrasound pictures with him but only shows those who he can trust - so, mainly Rudy and some of the other members of Los Vaqueros.
Can’t stop smiling when he sees the baby for the first time, it’s surprising that his cheeks aren’t sore.
Tries not to be the overbearing Dad but watches others like a hawk when they’re holding the baby.
He’s honestly just so delighted to be a Dad.
Rudy Parra
He’s a quiet guy, so his reaction is a lot more contained in comparison to his comrade, Alejandro.
Asks if you’re sure, a small smile on his lips.
He’s excited at the prospect of being a Dad but is also worried that you or the baby would be in danger considering his line of work.
Tells Alejandro - his comrade is bursting with excitement, congratulating his friend.
You’d have the whole of Los Vaqueros and 141 ready to protect you, quelling Rudy’s fears a bit.
Doesn’t like you doing any heavy lifting and always either offers to do it for you or, as if he read your mind, goes ahead and does it for you.
Would probably try some of your pregnancy craving foods - some of them he liked, others, well he tried not to judge you too hard for your choices.
His arm is always wrapped around your waist, hand wresting on your bump, especially when you’re out somewhere; it makes him feel less anxious knowing your beside him, so he knows you’re safe.
Doesn’t really mind what gender the baby would be, hasn’t really given it much thought.
If he was deployed when you gave birth, he’d be fighting tooth and nail to get back to you.
Doesn’t let the baby go when he does - would lay next to you in bed on his back with the baby on his chest.
Does that a lot actually - you’d walk into the living room and he’d be out cold, baby sleeping away on his chest, bundled in their little blankets.
Honestly would be the best Dad
König
Similarly to Ghost, he's petrified.
He's thought about settling down one day, living the white picket fence life, having a few kids - but he rationally knew that it probably wouldn't happen like that.
As soon as you tell him that you're pregnant, he has to sit down otherwise he'd probably faint.
He's terrified of hurting you or the baby with his strength, so he'd probably close himself off for a bit to think.
Cries when he sees the scan pictures of the baby for the first time - his child.
I reckon he's still very close to his family, namely his Mother, back home and so he'd be trying to figure out the best way to tell her that she's going to be a Grandmother.
His heart melts when he sees the little baby outfits you'd picked out - the little soft-soled shoes look even smaller in the palm of his hand.
He was already protective of you before but the bigger your bump gets, the more he's practically glued to your hip.
Always worries about you when he gets deployed - he's even more vicious and calculative on the field now that he knows that he has to make it home to you and the baby.
When you go into labour, he almost has a panic attack.
He's practically running around the house trying to find the maternity bag -- it was under the bed.
Holds your hand the entire time, doesn't complain at all when you practically crush his hand during contractions.
He's almost scared to hold the baby once they're born; the Nurse hands them over to him, swaddled in their little blankets, and he handles them like they're made of glass.
Starts sobbing when he notices that they have his eyes.
His heart is so full.
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humans are space orcs
imagine someone with chronic joint pain, whose dream their whole lives has been to go to space and meet the aliens and be a scientist and learn
so they look up the requirements as a kid and go "fuck."
they wouldn't make the cut.
their dreams are dashed. hopes ruined. lifelong dre destroyed.
except....
they've never really said a whole lot about their pain. they don't particularly like doctors, and they think that they've been managing just fine, so they never saw the point.
so maybe... maybe if they just don't say anything, they can make it to space.
they spend all of their time training. doing physical therapy exercises so that their joints aren't so loose, soaking up as much scientific and mathematical knowledge as they can, teaching themselves to push through the worst of it in pursuit of their dream.
and they make it.
they make it to space! it was gruelling, tortuous work, but they made it!
their first mission is an exploratory one, with a diverse crew which only has one other human.
they're thrilled.
they have dozens of alien friends and acquaintances. they spend hours learning and researching alien planets and cultures. it's everything they've ever wanted!
but
it's exhausting.
they're in more pain than they've ever been, more frequently than they ever have.
they keep up their exercises as best they can, but even those are often too much.
they smile when asked if they're alright, tell everyone that "i'm fine! just tired."
but they need a break. they can't imagine going or being sent back to earth, this is their home now, with these people, on this ship. but they don't know how much longer they can take this.
one day, on their day off, a fellow researcher comes and knocks on their door.
"are you here?"
"not today islith."
"but we've been called! there are some exciting new discoveries that need further cataloging and investigation, and carlmoth thought you would enjoy the task!"
"i can't today, islith."
"are you ill?"
"...kind of? but i'll be right as rain tomorrow. it's my day off anyhow."
"nonsense! you should go down to medbay!"
"i'm alright, i promise."
"you get out here right this minute or i'll report you to medbay myself!"
"no!" there's a series of crashes and thumps, and then they open the door.
"oh, you look awful. come on, you really must need medbay, what if you're contagious." islith tries to grab them but they shy away.
"i'm not contagious, i promise."
"how can you possibly know that? what if you picked it up from a sample, or, or, garfon has been sick recently! humans can't survive cerian sicknesses-"
"i didn't catch something from garfon, islith," they sigh and open the door wider. "come in and let me explain."
"alright, but if i think you should go to medbay afterwards then i'm taking you there."
"sure, islith."
islith enters, notices the piles of clothes, rumpled bedsheets, the lights are off and the port window shut.
"what's wrong?"
they sigh again, "my body doesn't work like it's meant to, islith."
islith is wildly alarmed, "and you said there was no need for medbay?!? come with me right now and-"
"no! i can't, islith, you don't understand."
"then explain it to me."
"i've... always been this way, although it's gotten worse as i've gotten older. my body, it just isn't built quite right, there's something wrong with it that makes it not work properly and hurt often."
"you're right, i don't understand. why can't you go to medbay?"
"i'd... be thrown off the ship."
"what?!?"
and so they tell islith a story about a young child whose dream was to touch the stars.
"and now, it's too late. i'd get in huge trouble for lying to the government, especially for so long."
"well- but- but humans are so resilient! you hear all the stories!"
"not every human is the same, islith. some of us are born disabled, and some of us get hurt in accidents, just like any other species."
"well, then, well there must be something we can do?"
they look up in shock, "we?"
"of course we, you ridiculous creature," islith said with a fond sigh. "you didn't think i'd leave you to suffer, would you?"
"but, you could get in so much trouble!"
"that's alright, i don't mind. what else are friends for? and, anyway, we don't have to tell your government, we can tell mine."
"but i'll-"
"we don't have any rules like that. any of us who are disabled can still manage in space just fine with the right support, and i bet you could too."
"i- islith- i don't-"
"don't worry, we'll all back you when it comes down to it. you're out teammate, our family. no one on this ship wants to watch you leave because of something you can't control. now come on, let's talk to glidlep in medical, she'll understand."
and for years, things continued on that way, until eventually it was an open secret that the human with the exosuit was disabled and not technically allowed onboard.
and down the line, when nasa found out and was furious, the entire ship and more stood by their side.
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pathetichimbos · 8 months
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Thomas cries a lot.
He's always been sensitive, every since he was a kid. The names other kids and hell, even adults called him cut deep every time he heard them.
Idiot.
Monster.
Freak.
Tears pluck at his brown eyes harshly as the majority of the schoolyard torments him, the teachers turning blind eyes to the mistreatment, too busy making their own comments about his mother and family to intervene.
"S-Stop--!" He hiccups, hands desperately covering his face as he shakes against the metal fence, "G-Give it back!"
"Come get it, Freak!" The little boy taunts him, holding the mask Thomas' mother made for him high in the air, the group of children around him erupting in laughter.
"HEY! What the hell's goin' on over here!?" Hoyt hollers as he yanks the bully up by his wrist, the kids mocking laughter interrupted as they scatter, "What the hell's wrong with you, boy!? Did your Daddy raise you to take shit that ain't yours!?"
Hoyt plucks the mask from the kid's hand as he shakes his head, wide eyed and scared at being caught red handed.
"That's what I thought, so why don't you scatter before I give him a call and tell him what the hell you've been doin'."
"Yes, sir!" The kid darts as soon as Hoyt lets him go.
"Little shit." Hoyt mutters, kneeling down to help Thomas put his mask back on, "Now, I done told you, Tommy, you can't cry everytime one of those little bastards says some shit to you. Man up, you're too damn old for all that whinin'..."
Thomas nods, wiping the tears from his red eyes as Hoyt takes him back to the truck.
Man up...
Man up...
That's what Hoyt and Monty always told him, their words not much kinder and cutting even deeper as they picked at him everytime he cried.
Over the years the tears eventually turned to anger, and isolation. Hiding himself away from everyone and everything around him, protecting himself from from harsh world around him.
...And then there was you.
Sweet, excitable, gentle you.
"...Tommy...!" Your voice is tired and sweet, clearly having just woken up when Thomas came in the room.
He watches as you stretch, waking up a bit more as you look up at him, a small smile on your face.
He's tired. It's written on his face, eyes droopy and shoulders slumping, standing over the bed, looking down at you.
"C'mere." You reach for him, hands grasping as you gesture for him to climb in bed.
He does as he's told, climbing under the covers and into your arms, melting into your warmth as he lays on top of you.
"Mmm..." You hum, relaxing as your arms wrap around him, your hands running up and down his back, sending shivers up his spine, "...My Thomas..."
He sighs at your words, melting even further against you as your hands gain rhythm and begin rubbing his aching muscles, working up and down his shoulders and back as he buries his face in your neck.
You lean your head against his, the smell of the shampoo you bought for him filling your nose as you continue rubbing his back, "...I love you..."
The arms around your waist tighten as he presses further into you, completely engulfing you in his presence.
How?
How is it possible for you to love him so incredibly, and so deeply that he doesn't even need to hear those words to know their truth? How could you possibly break down every piece of him, every broken part and hideous truth and still make him feel like the only thing that matters in the world?
You can feel him start to shake. He's been working so hard, for so long. He's exhausted, and worn down. His body is scarred and calloused. His mind is weary and weak.
And every insult, every hit, every bad thing that he's ever gone through was worth it, if it means he can feel this loved for the rest of his life.
You feel his tears before you see them, the quiver in his shoulders, the hiccups in your ear as he tries to hold it back.
"Oh, Tommy..." You mutter, kissing his hair as you rub his back, "It's okay, sweetheart, you can cry, I've got you..."
And for the first time in a long time, he does.
He cries into your shoulder, a shaking and sobbing mess as you patiently hold him through it, running your hands through his hair and rubbing his back as you coax him.
"There we go..." You coo as he pulls back, holding his face in your hands while you kiss his tear stained cheeks, his mask long forgotten before he climbed into bed, "Do you feel better, love?"
He nods, letting out a deep sigh as he relaxes against you again, feeling more relief than he has in years.
"Good..."
...Thomas cries a lot. After years of believing he was never good enough to be loved, of believing his place was being locked away in the basement, forever shielding himself from the world that hated him, he was proven wrong by a single person who loves him more than every good thing put together.
And that thought alone brings tears to his eyes.
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willowser · 7 months
Text
katsuki blames the alcohol for making him stupid.
really stupid.
not that he's had a lot, but his tolerance is low for a guy of his size, and he can feel the edges of his inhibitions dulling with every drink of whatever denki has shoved in his hand. it doesn't taste like absolute shit, which is rare enough to have him indulging, just a bit, for the agency halloween party.
another sip has his head feeling a little swimmy, and before he knows it, his eyes are trailing across the room until they find you. again.
whatever the hell you're supposed to be tonight—a witch, or something else in a pointy hat—is really fucking with him, and has since you walked in. the costume isn't revealing in a sense that it's inappropriate for a work event, but it's...hugging you in all the right places. in every single one of them.
without tights, it would be on the too-short side, but—and no, katsuki can't fucking explain this—something about them is making everything worse. and your calf-high boots ain't helping, either.
it's just—your fucking—hips.
katsuki couldn't tell you what song is playing, but you're swaying back and forth to the tune and one of his canines digs into the plastic of his cup, so deeply that it makes a terrible creaking sound and dents beneath the pressure—and that's when a sharp elbow is delivered to the center of his chest.
mina is at his side when he looks, and her wide, freaky eyes scan his face before narrowing in her little shit-eating way.
"you're a pig."
katsuki chokes, and the little freak takes that as an admission of some kind.
"oh my god," she gasps, mouth falling in all her disgust and awe. "you can't even deny it!" and then she laughs, high and chirpy, and there's no way you can't hear her. "oh, you're down bad."
"cram it," he snaps, sinking his scowl into his cup. "i dunno what the hell you're talkin' about."
"you know i really thought better of you," mina sniffs effectively, turning her face up and away. "not the type to be blantly checking out somebody's ass."
katsuki bristles, and his aggrivation growns until the plastic in his hands starts to melt. "i wasn't—"
"i'm kidding!" mina snorts before flicking him in the nose, narrowly dodging the hand he swipes out at her. "quit being a baby and go shoot your shot already."
"piss. off."
but the hero is unaffected by him, simply scrunching up her face in response before turning on her heel to disappear further into the party.
she's wrong, katsuki thinks, because he's not a pig like sero or fucking dunce face or even kirishima, from time to time, who gets red in the face over a low cut shirt and a pair of tits.
fucking ridiculous, katsuki thinks, because he's way better than that.
it's just—the alcohol. that's making his lids heavy and his thoughts dark and his face hot. has him peeking at you over the lip of his cup, has him picturing you in his head when he's forced to look away.
and, well, maybe, the short cut of your dress has a little something to do with it, too—but he's keeping that shit to himself.
taking it to the grave, even.
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sophsbookstore · 18 days
Text
Exchanged Glances
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Charles Leclerc x hairdresser!reader 。・:*˚:✧。 
Masterlist can be found in navigation!
Read pt. 2 here
A/N: Not super edited, I wanted to get it posted before the Grand Prix!
Word count: 1,581
Normally when Charles goes back home to Monaco he has his mom cut his hair. Like clockwork he will arrive at his moms salon, say hello to the various hairdressers and then go to his moms station to get a fresh cut. Only, this time things were different. 
A couple days before he was to arrive home Charles called his mom and asked what day she was free to cut his hair, with the upcoming Monaco Grand Prix it, and with it being his home race he was more available for a haircut than ever.
After their brief greetings to one another Charles’ mom told him that she would be out of town up until the day of the race. For the first time since joining formula one his mom wouldn't be able to cut his hair for him before the Monaco Grand prix.
“Don't worry Cha, I can refer you to another hairdresser at the salon.” She offered, trying to give him another solution.
“I don't know, you've always cut my hair, no one else.” 
“Then this will be a perfect time for you to step out of your comfort zone. Don't worry I know the perfect person, she’s new, around your age and she's magic in the salon.” Trusting his mom this easies Charles' nerves slightly.
“Ok maman.” The driver sighs in defeat.
“Wonderful! When you go to the salon ask for Y/N.'' With that his mom bid him farewell, telling him when to be at the salon, not going into any more detail about this mysterious hairdresser.
Before he knew it the day had come, he was going to step out of his comfort zone and have a complete stranger touch his hair. He hoped his mom wasn't lying when she was hyping up Y/N and her skills, he didn't want to go to the paddock looking a mess.
Charles enters the salon, all the employees giving him waves and greeting him. He's known some of these people his whole life, whenever he stepped foot in the salon it was like he was being greeted by family.
“Hello Charles, what can I help you with today?” The lady at the front desk asked.
"Hello, yes, my mom told me to ask for Y/N?” The boy shrugged in confusion.
“Oh of course! I'll go get her.” The lady that once sat in front of him was now off searching for the mysterious magic woman that was going to cut his hair.
Charles felt like he was waiting for hours, the salon wasn't that big was it? Maybe it was all in his head. He stood to the side of the waiting area, too consumed with stress to sit down and relax. Before he knew it the front desk lady came back, the woman he assumed to be Y/N trailing behind her.
This is when he finally got to have a good look at her. She was beautiful, why didn't his mom tell him that they started hiring part time models at the salon. The two stood awkwardly, both taking in one another, waiting for someone to make the first move.
Y/N cleared her throat. “Hello Charles, I’m Y/N. just follow me back to my station and we’ll get started”
Charles was too dumbfounded to respond, instead the man stuttered silently before nodding and following Y/N to the back of her salon. During the short walk to her station, Charles thought of questions to ask the beautiful girl, desperately wanting to hear the sound of her voice again.
“Thanks for trusting me with your hair today, your mom told me that you don't really let anyone else cut your hair.” She giggled.
“Oh! Yeah, she's been cutting mine and my brothers hair since we were kids.”
“That's so sweet. I understand where you're coming from I don't let anyone cut my hair, only myself.'' This put Charles at ease. Knowing that she thinks the same way he does, even about something so simple as hair.
After some comfortable small talk Y/N led Charles further back into the salon, sitting the boy down in a chair before leaning him back and washing his hair. The driver seemed to melt in her touch as she ran her fingers through his hair.
When Y/N pulled her hands away to apply more product Charles felt incomplete, like he was missing a sense of stability and peace within himself. Just as soon as she removed her hands she placed them back, continuing to massage his scalp with the shampoo.
Y/N pats Charles’ shoulders signaling to him that the wash was done and that they had to make their way back to her station. Y/N led the way, Charles trailing behind the girl before taking his spot in front of her in the salon chair.
“Are you excited for the grand prix?” Y/N questions taking some of his hair between her fingers, beginning the cut
“Very. I have a good feeling and my son will be there, hopefully we secure P1 and P2.”
“You have a son? What's his name?” Y/N questions, his mom not mentioning anything about a grandson.
“Oh! My apologies he's not really my son. He's a driver on the grid that I've somewhat adopted for the race weekend so that he can claim the Monaco grand prix as his home race.” Charles looks at Y/N hoping she doesn't find what he said both weird and confusing.
“HA!” The hairdresser laughed out loud. “Well congrats to him, I hope he has a fun and successful home race as well. I'll be sure to congratulate your maman about her newly found grandson.” 
Charles sat up a little higher in the chair, “Are you coming to the race?”
“I wish I could but I have to work, don't worry though, the salon will be playing the race so everyone can watch.” Y/N stopped cutting for a moment, looking at Charles through the mirror placed in front of them before giving him a warm smile.
Y/N picked up another section of his hair, continuing to snip away leaving Charles to examine the girl through the mirror. Y/N looked up from behind him, making a quick glance at him before the pair broke eye contact, looking separate ways.
Slowly their eyes started moving back to the mirror. The scissors snapping shut as the pair hold eye contact. Charles felt the tip of his ears getting hotter, the pair both noticing one another's subtle hints of red creeping onto their faces.
“Notice anything Mr. Leclerc?” Y/N questions, the corners of her mouth turning upward.
Charles opens his mouth to speak but words don't come out.
“Don't think I haven't noticed the subtle glances, there is either something on my face and you're trying to figure out how to tell me, or something going on in this head of yours.” She turns her attention back to his hair, the haircut almost over.
“I-” he clears his throat, “I was admiring you. You're very good at what you do.”
“I deeply appreciate Charles, truly.” Y/N made her final touches to the haircut. Unbuttoning the cloth that was draped over Charles, before dusting off his shoulders of any hair. “You're all finished, let me find a mirror so you can see the back.”
Y/N walked toward an unknown part of the salon, Charles' eyes following the girl through the mirror until she came back. This is it, if he doesn't say anything now he might never see her again.
The hairdresser came back, handing Charles a small hand held mirror for him to examine the back of his head. He admired her work, impressed with her skills. Placing the mirror down on a ledge near her station he got out of his chair and turned to her.
The two stared at one another, practically chest to chest. “Will you come to the grand prix?” He asked breathlessly.
“Nothing would delight me more but I have to work.” Y/N sighed looking away for a moment before her attention was pulled back to Charles.
“If you can't come to the race can you accompany me for dinner after?” Y/N looked at Charles, her cheeks getting ever so pinker.
“Mr. Leclerc are you asking me on a date?”
“That depends, would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked, not missing a beat.
“Yes Charles, I would love to.” 
Charles smiled from ear to ear, desperately wanting to bounce off the walls with excitement, stopping himself before he could embarrass himself. “Then I will see you tomorrow.” He nodded in satisfaction.
“See you tomorrow Charles.” Charles walked away from the hairdresser, giving her a quick glance back before making his way back to the lady at the front desk.
“Hair looks great! What did you think of Y/N?” She asked, ringing him up so he could make his payment.
“She's fantastic, I think maman will have some competition.” The two laughed, Charles paid, giving her a quick goodbye.
As soon as he exited the salon he called his mom, updating her on his post race plans, greatly thanking her for offering Y/N to cut his hair.
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hwanchaesong · 1 month
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Ephemeral (Second Chances)
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pairing: Yang Jungwon X F!Reader
synopsis: You sat and listened to the silence, the time ticked and you watched him walk down the aisle full of strangers. What scared you though, was the fact that everyone was blurry except for his dimples that you used to kiss.
word count: 12.1k
genre & warnings:fluff, angst, suggestive (borderline smutty), summer break setting, pet names, cursing, drinking, lots of arguing, bickering, tension and jealousy, themes of engagement and marriage,miscommunication, Yeonjun of TXT as your brother (his gf here is unnamed), other idols' names are used, making-out, slight dry humping, tell me if i missed some
a/n: first up is our jungwon bc why tf not lmao. next up would be probably be ni-ki's. this is a part of Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels. enjoy the ride! all likes, comments & feedback (esp this one, i love love love reading y'all reactions. legit gives me the serotonin boost) and reblogs are much appreciated ✨
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The revival of the scorching sun is the mark of your independence from the tiring university life. Yet here you are, head hotter than the temperature outside that the air-conditioning couldn't cool it down.
"Are you fucking kidding me!?" you whisper-yelled at your brother with a staggering amount of self-control not to slap him silly for failing to tell you a very important information beforehand.
He held his hands up in defense, guilt written on his face and you almost forgave him when he gave you the puppy eyes.. but no can do.
"I take back what I said, I won't do it anymore." you solidly declared, turning around on your heels to leave the kitchen where you dragged your brother to have a 'private' conversation with him.
"Y/N! I really need you for this one." he held you back, latching onto your arm and if it's not a consequential deal then you'd probably guffaw at how he comically dropped on his knees, begging you for a favor.
"Yeonjun! I- let me go!" you tried pushing him away to no avail, his yowling further annoying you.
"No! Not until you g-"
His fussing were cut off when an eerily familiar voice resonated throughout the room, putting an end to the squabbling that is currently taking place on the shiny, vinyl floors of the kitchen.
"Yeonjun-hyung, is everything okay?" the intruder asked, making your sibling stand and fake a smile, waving his hand nonchalantly and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"Jungwon! Hi! Um, yeah, superb haha! Don't you think so, sister?" your fumbling brother turned to you, grinning but you take note of his googly eyes, silently notifying you to play nice and go along with him.
"N-" you yelped when you felt a stinging pinch on your arm, again, doing your best to conceal the unwavering indignation you're feeling. "Yes, don't mind us. You can go back to wherever you came from. We'll be out there shortly."
You felt his eyes on you, but you were adamant to not meet it, focusing on a piece of apple that was sitting on the counter instead.
The younger boy shrugged, muttering a small 'okay' before walking towards the living room again.
You face your brother, and he knows based on the shine in your eyes that you're pleading him to spare you, to look for another person who can help him because you don't want to go through this.. you don't want to go through him.
'High school sweethearts', was the category of your relationship back then.
The president and vice-president of the student council. The academic achiever and the sports champion. Yang Jungwon and L/N Y/N, a match made in heaven.
That's what everyone thought, if they want to talk to you, they just have to look for Jungwon and bam! You'll be right there as well. It was a common notion for you two to be inseparable, a matching set, the missing puzzle pieces that completes the picture.
You both knew that you were too young to be settling down, yet the assurance of being each other's endgame outweighs any lingering doubts.
Then on one fateful day, an incident happened. You dramatically gave it the title of 'Graduation Encounter: The Blessing of the Year.' (your friends were actually baffled on how you're able to name it like that, but they gaslighted themselves into thinking that maybe, this is your coping mechanism for dealing with heartbreak.)
You wanted to give him a gift after the ceremony, then you found him talking to his friend in the student council's room. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, and you're glad you did.
"Jungwon, do you see a future with Y/N?"
"No."
You heard his answer loud and clear to that damned question, and that was adequate for you to be crumpled, like the precious handmade present that you were holding.
That same night, you broke up with him through text. Not brave enough to face him in person but courageous enough to send him a long ass paragraph about what you learned before blocking him for good.
Then you did your best to avoid him like he's the plague. To forget him like that one sock you've probably hid somewhere but really didn't bother to look for until it flew outside your memory. Really, a vision of him brings you nothing but hurt and anger, also a terrible headache because you cannot fathom how he was once your beloved.
You did think that God loves you because Jungwon actually went to a different city to pursue his dream major in college, freeing you from his shadow. He won't be associated with you anymore and he'll be nothing but a mere nightmare that once haunted you in your peaceful slumber.
And now, you feel like the cycle is back to zero since you've had a glimpse of him. Like, all of your efforts to move on from him were nothing but trash, washed down the drain. Seeing him once more had you reeling into the hate shackle that he'd put you in.
"Y/N." Yeonjun called your name in a gentle manner, patting you on the head while he speaks to you sympathetically, "Look, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I regret that, but please, you're the one I trust the most. I can't possibly ask anyone else. Besides, you don't love him anymore, correct?"
... He has a point.
What the fuck are you even grumbling about?
How could you forget the promise that you made to yourself while you burn the letters and photos that he gave you, watching the fire engulf the memories that you previously held dear.
'The next time I see him, no more feelings are attached. He won't affect me anymore. I'll act casual, make him realize that I can live without him."
You concurred, steeling yourself from the upcoming escapade that you're about to embark on.
"You know what Yeonjun," you removed his hand on your head, crossing your arms as you gave him a poised smirk, "get your ass ready 'cause imma bestow you a showstopping wedding proposal."
You're confident, it's been a year since you've hung around Jungwon. Surely, you can keep all of these as strictly professional. You're mature enough, probably him too, it's not like he's gonna go and be a total hazard.
Right?
....
Wrong.
You were severely mistaken because the man is insufferable.
He's cocky and assertive, always has something to counter your suggestions and not to mention, a huge basher.. and you're getting tired of it.
He got your number yesterday when you stupidly agreed with your brother's pleas, thus, you're sitting here in a comfy café with a boy that you've assumed to never cross paths ever again after he messaged you last night for a meet-up and brainstorming session.
You kind of understood why your brother got him to assist with the proposal, given that he is Yeonjun's best friend, automatically making him the best man for the future wedding.
But still, he doesn't have to be so passive-aggressive about this. You're doing your best to be civil with him, so the least that he could do is treat you with respect as well.
"Okay, we're getting nowhere with this." you muttered, taking a deep breath and getting yourself ready to say another proposition when he interrupted your train of thoughts with a rather sarcastic reply.
"I mean, it's you so.." he trailed off, taking a sip of his iced coffee and you are so tempted to choke him at this point.
"Dear god, Jungwon you-"
He cuts you off when he suddenly whipped up the surprised pikachu face, "Finally! You've decided to call me by my name. That's the first step."
You squint your eyes at him, losing your cool at his unreasonable attitude, "What the hell is your problem?"
He feigned shock, clutching his chest as some sort of what you'd like to dub as tasteless acting, "My problem? Oh, miss, it pains me to know that you're blissfully unaware of your rude tone, sassy mannerisms, and not to mention the stink eye you've been giving me ever since you arrived here."
You straightened up from your seat. Were you really acting that way?
Pride must be your greatest friend, letting it fly high that it made you neglect the ethics that you've recited in your head a million times in order to be in a state of zen for this meeting.
"Don't play games with me now." you muttered, glaring at him and it drove you up the wall to see him scowl at you.
You haven't been in contact with him ever since the.. separation, and magic happened it seems, suddenly he appears in front of you out of thin air like a bunny hidden inside a fancy tall hat.
Except that the bunny is a complete 180 of what was supposed to be a sweet and little cutie patootie. You are well aware that change is inevitable. Yang Jungwon won't be the same person as he was before. What's infuriating you though, was the fact that he has the balls to be this brusque.
He sighs in defeat and it makes you even more confused, irritatedly staring at him as you wait for him to spout some more nonsense.
"I owe Yeonjun hyung a big one." he speaks, tone calm and it irks you how he's able to compose himself that fast, "I know we did not end on good terms, but I want to help him as much as I can. He's an important friend to me."
First, you'll give him some credit. He does acknowledge that the whole situation sucks because your past is something that one cannot simply overlook.
Second, Yeonjun is your brother, of course you'd want to lend a hand for him too.
Third, if this guy can go to great lengths for a person that he values then why didn't he-
You blinked, stopping yourself from continuing that thought. There is no fucking way you'll complete that dreadful rumination you're brewing inside your precious brain.
"Then what do you suggest?" you watch him smile in triumph, the first since your rendezvous. And as much as you hate to admit it, you did miss that joyful vibe he'd always emit.
Finally, he laid out the plans that he had painstakingly plotted the moment Yeonjun asked him about the perfect wedding proposal.
You listened intently to Jungwon, mindful of the schedule and divvying up the work, also making a mental note of your own ideas that you might pitch in later on.
Your brother will ask his girlfriend next Wednesday, during her birthday party celebration. That means that you only have a what? A fucking week to get everything done.
"That's it." he finishes his rambling, glancing in your direction and giving you ample time to take in his word vomit.
You are willing to put the bitterness behind you if it means that you'll see your brother happy and satisfied. He deserves that much, after all the love and support he has given you, it is only natural for you to return the benevolence he had showered you with since you were born.
You stood up from your seat, extending your hand to the curious man in front of you, "We'll do that and the things that I will also say at some point." you smile, having half a mind to compliment him for the meticulous planning, "You never lost your touch when it comes to creating blueprints, Mr. President of the Student Council."
He smirks at your unforeseen flattery masked in irony, accepting the handshake and not missing the chance to throw a jab in, "And you're still good at heeding my orders despite your nature of splashing it with your own ideas, Ms. Vice-President of the Student Council."
Your eyes widened, caught-off guard by his witty teasing.
Amidst the quiet coffee shop where the calming classical music surrounds the serene space, an imminent cyclone forms as the two former lovers, turned partners-in-cupid, stand with their hands clasped in harmony, regarding each other in a pique.
Game on.
---------------------------------------------------
Day 1: Choosing a venue
You scanned the area thoroughly, a sense of merriment filling your heart while you observe the shades of green colliding in the small yard. Butterflies scattered around, the variety of plants and how they're trimmed and grown to perfection created a scenery of paradise. Not to mention the elegant fountain in the middle. (You could only chuckle at the thought of your brother gawking at the said piece of art.)
You're currently standing in a garden, the chosen location for the upcoming surprise, waiting for Jungwon to finish his business with the owners. He's the one who found the site in social media, thus, you made him do the honor of negotiating.
It was located in the countryside (2 to 3 hours drive from home), near the beach and the way the wind carries the ocean breeze brings a nice touch of freshness. It's tranquil in here, away from the bustling city and no gossip girls will appear out of nowhere.
You sat down in the wooden bench, taking a sip of your earl grey tea and sighing in contentment. Yeonjun would love it here, you also do think that the place is nice, and if you would be given the chance to choose a location for your own wedding engagement, this will definitely be your top pick.
"That's great! Thank you so much for giving us the spot next Wednesday."
Jungwon's distant jabbering snapped you out of your reverie, turning on your seat only to find him already focused on you, then he made a tiny gesture, telling you to come and meet the owners of the garden. You gave him a blank stare but obliged nonetheless.
You straightened your outfit, walking in his direction and coming face to face with the kind-looking elderly couple who's strangely gazing at you two with mirthful expressions.
"Good afternoon, I'm Y/N and-"
The older lady spoke, her sentence bamboozling you to no end.
"Is this the wife-to-be? Oh my god, she's gorgeous! You have a nice taste young man." she exclaims with a big grin, taking your hand in hers and shaking it vigorously.
"I have to agree with my wife here. You two are lovely together." her husband smiles as well, having the same opinion as his spouse.
"Oh no. Ma'am, sir, we are not- that's not..." you trailed off, awkwardness coursing through your veins and you had to get help from the equally bewildered man beside you, your whole body language begging for him to say something.
"I'm sorry to disappoint, Mr. and Mrs. Shin, but we're not together. It's actually her brother who's going to be engaged soon." Jungwon finally clears the confusion, a perplexed demeanor coming off from the pair.
After a while of explaining, the owners apologized for the misunderstanding, to which you easily accepted and even made a lighthearted joke about it. When everything's been settled, the place booked for next week's agenda and the duo promised to accommodate you to the best of their abilities, it was time to say farewell.
You made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat of Jungwon's car, peeping behind the tinted windows and being intrigued as to what they were discussing on the porch.
Right as you were about to leave, Mrs. Shin pulled Jungwon back to ask him a really important question. He had to usher you to go back first, but your inner detective conan was about to be let out of prison when you saw his scandalized facade just as the old woman whispered in his ears.
You witnessed how his ears turned red, the usual shy mien he had always sported back during highschool making an appearance, his adorable dimples showing when he pursed his lips to stop himself from laughing at what you can assume are ridiculous questions coming from Mrs. Shin.
You're a cat, a curious one at that, so you gaped at him when he entered the vehicle without so much of a word, revving the engine on and driving away.
Jungwon's right eye twitched when the irk of your not so subtle leering at him eventually provoked him to actually start a conversation with you.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
You puffed and glared at him, "The only thing that is wrong here is your attitude."
Jungwon visibly seethed through his teeth, gripping the steering wheel tighter, "Y/N." he called your name firmly, and believe it or not, his tone managed to create shivers down your spine. "Speak, we don't have all day."
"Well.." you bit your lip, suddenly embarrassed by your petulant behavior a few seconds ago.
"Well what?" Jungwon urged, momentarily glancing at your feeble figure.
"I was curious about what you were talking about with Mrs. Shin back there." you admitted with a small pout on your lips, evading his deriding eyes as you busied yourself with the enchanting terrains outside.
The sun had begun to set, casting a bright orange color across the skies, painting even the blue water seas with its beauty. A magnificent landscape, but your anxiety obstructs you from enjoying the view.
You heard Jungwon chuckle, and you were about to protest when he reassured you in the calmest way possible, "She was asking regarding Yeonjun hyung and his girlfriend. Nothing for your pretty little head to overthink about."
A certain word caught your attention, rotating your head a bit too fast that you almost had a whiplash, "Pretty? You think I'm pretty? Jungwon?"
He's smart enough to realize that you're doing this to rile him up.
"Y/N, I need you to shut up."
Day 2: Decoration and props
"No, we don't need that." you pinched the bridge of your nose when Jungwon picked up another set of balloons on the shelf, turning a deaf ear to his childish complaints when you rejected another item that he had deemed critical for the party.
"No fair!" he grumbles, pawing the objects in the cart, "All of the things in here are the ones that you've picked! You've never given me a turn to select at least one decor!"
You fight the intrusive necessity to abandon him in the aisle, personally wanting to save your crumbling image as the people around you begin to murmur at the commotion that Jungwon is causing.
"Alright! Alright!" you felt routed, you can never win against his juvenile stubborn personality, always having you at its mercy and if you tried to resist it, an impending doom is bound to happen.
"We'll pick one decoration of your choice, okay?" you showed him your index finger, shoving it into his face to reiterate your point, "Just one."
The way he cheered was akin to that of a child who was allowed by his mother to eat ice cream after winning a spelling bee competition. You shook your head at his antics, slightly laughing at his peppy steps as he sauntered towards the kids' birthday area of the store.
You begrudgingly followed him, grimacing at the item in his hand. You were about to nag the hell out of him, to question him the purpose or importance of some multicolor whistle blowout in a formal event.
But you stopped when you felt a tiny tug on your pants, squealing in delight when you were greeted by the cutest human being on earth.
"Hello little guy." you crouched down to match the child's height, your former frustration melting at the sight of his puffy cheeks and red eyes, probably from crying. "Are you lost?"
The youngster nodded his head a yes, and you couldn't help but coo when he made grabby hands at you, letting you know that he wanted to be carried. And who are you to say no to an angel?
At this time, returning the kid to his parents becomes your priority, "What's your name?" you gently asked the boy in your arms, swinging slightly from side to side in an attempt to further pacify him.
"Sunoo." he murmurs from your shoulders, sniffling and for a moment he gazes at you like he's in some deep thought, then he slapped your cheeks in his chubby hands, "You're young mommy."
You don't know if this is a compliment or not, but you smiled either way, thanking him and you're about to proceed to the security when Jungwon went and made his forgotten presence known again.
Sunoo shrieked when Jungwon blew the damned party horn, the tube unrolling and hitting the child in the face. For a minute you were so tempted to chuck Jungwon into a ditch, getting nervous at the thought of Sunoo crying... thank god he didn't.
The young one liked an element of surprise it seems, clapping his hands excitedly and spurred Jungwon (the child called him young daddy and you nearly gagged) to do it again, to which he did, causing Sunoo to erupt in a fit of giggles.
Something in your heart clenched while you watched the two interact, it was thumping rather loudly in your chest, reminding you of the dead and buried daydreams that you once had.
You'd be lying if you said that you never imagined a family with Jungwon. You'd be fooling yourself if you said that you've never pictured Jungwon as a part of your future.
The future that he said he couldn't see with you.
Rage suddenly shoots in and replaces the melancholic emotions you're in, and Jungwon felt that when your eyes are literally shooting him through his skull. His play time with Sunoo came to a halt, peering at your upset form and he frowned, inquiring if you're okay.
You refrain from meeting his brown orbs, giving only a hum in response and that made Jungwon's frown deeper.
The kid pouts, looking back and forth at the two adults, "Is young mommy and young daddy fighting?"
"No," you answered immediately, "we're not. Everything's fine honey." you tried your best to smile, albeit strained, "How about we find your parents, hm?"
You found the perfect way to escape Jungwon's piercing gaze, leaving him alone with his thoughts. You wouldn't be able to keep up with his interrogation and you'd rather die than be upfront with him.
This is not supposed to bother you. You must remain poised and rational at all times, a reminder that you kept on repeating inside your mind while you escorted the child to the security, having them announce the presence of Sunoo into the intercom.
After a few minutes of waiting, his parents finally arrived, thanking you profusely and as a way to show their gratitude, they happily paid all of your bills in the shop. (Jungwon stayed in the halls, giving the reason of not wanting to leave your cart unattended.)
You bid your goodbyes, promising Sunoo to visit him when you have the time. His mother and father were kind enough to give you their phone number and address, and it was your turn to thank them for giving you the opportunity to see Sunoo whenever you wanted to. They waved it off, saying 'our son was attached to you, he'll surely cry his heart out if he's not able to see you again.'
After the parting, the worst part that you're abstaining from followed, the stillness inside the vehicle was suffocating, and anybody with eyes can clearly tell how palpable the tension is.
You distracted yourself by counting the droplets of rain that fall on the window, listening to the buzzing radio, anything to brush the unsettling vibes aside.
The car went to a halt on the side of the road and you were stupefied at the abrupt break, you turned to reprimand the driver but you noticed that he was doing nothing but to stare ahead of the empty, wet pavement.
"Are you uncomfortable with me?"
He was direct, not fumbling around with his words and it made you hate him. How can he be so brave when it comes to confrontation?
"Let's just go. We're wasting time here."
Sidetracking was what you were best at, and that made Jungwon clench his jaws hard, will you ever change?
"Y/N, answer me." it was a ticking time bomb, the sudden change in your mood a while ago was a big mystery to him, and he'll never lay it off until he learns the reason why.
"Why should I?" you deadpanned, acting clueless to genuinely irritate him.
"Because we're not leaving until you answer me. You have two choices, Y/N." he's motionless, but you weren't, and you're about to do the most clichéd shit out there.
Yes.
You glanced at him for a second, gave him a resentful smile, then you exited out of his car, not paying any mind to Jungwon's shouts for you to come back. You were adamant to trek your way home if it means that you won't have to stay in that asphyxiating conflict.
A yelp escaped you when Jungwon harshly jerked you to cease your movements, your back bumping into his sturdy chest as he held you by the arm.
"Let me go." you demanded, not having the energy to struggle in his grip, you reckon that it'll be useless because Jungwon is much stronger than you. Ain't no way you're squandering your energy over a futile endeavor.
"Is it really that difficult for you to be with me?" he whispers and you've gone frigid, did he really say that with such dejection?
"If you are not comfortable with me, I could tell Yeonjun hyung. You wouldn't have to spend your time with a person that you.. hate."
It physically pained Jungwon to utter that dreadful word, but if it makes you feel better then he would gladly swallow the numbing pill, he won't say it out loud, but your happiness will always be his priority.
And you think you're being selfish, of course, the break-up did not only affect you, it must have damaged him too.
Undeniably, you need to knock some sense into your brain.
"I'm sorry," you shuffled around until you were facing him, "I'm being absurd. I was-" you took a deep breath, "I was reminiscing, okay?"
You didn't have to tell him more, he understands. He always did, even during your darkest times, he was the only one who could bring you out of your emotional shell.
Jungwon held his pinky out, "Tell me when your reminiscing gets too much, I'll give you space. For now, let's be casual, yeah?"
A hint of the corner of your lips quirking up made him feel like a champion, intertwining your pinky with his in a small-scale pledge.
It's thorny for it was not attended for the longest time, but the residual connection can be made as a starting point to fix a rift.
Under the heavy droplets of the heavens, soaking through your shirts, what matters the most in this solemn atmosphere is this: the neverending solidarity to Yeonjun's imminent marriage proposal.
Day 3: Food and catering
You were never a fighter, you have counted yourself as a lover, but right now, your fist itches to land a blow on a random girl's face... a broken nose suits her the most, you think.
She keeps on twirling her hair, her fake high-pitched voice is sickening, and the way she stands is so vexing.
Yeah, you do understand where she's coming from.
Jungwon, for some reason, was all dressed up for today's schedule. An outfit that hugs his lean body exquisitely, dynamic enough to tuck his long-sleeved button up in a black trouser, said sleeves of the button up were rolled up to his elbows. He was no doubt showing off his broad shoulders, rich man arms and slim waist, heck, even his hair is styled flawlessly.
You on the other hand weren't severely outclassed, aware of the fancy catering service that you're visiting. A simple dress and a pair of boots sufficed you, then again, you were never the fashionista in this tandem.
What you're pissed about is an enigma, but you do know that you want to thwack Jungwon in the face too. He eats all the girl's recommendations, and he has the audacity to giggle at every word that she says!
At first, you were ecstatic to test the foods presented to you, as time goes by, you lost interest because the host didn't bother to give you the fucking time of her day, focusing entirely on Jungwon.
Hence, you find yourself sitting in the corner of the room, boring holes into the pair as you nurse your glass of Cheval Blanc 1947.
"Here are our cheese section!" the woman speaks in an unnatural cheerful tone, and you couldn't help but grimace at her dying whale sounds. Just then, Jungwon turns on his heel and beckons for you to come.
"Ah, sadly I'm lactose intolerant. It's okay though, my girlfriend here can taste it for me." he motions in your direction, to where you stand dumbfoundedly at the most shocking news of the day.
He lied and he used the godforsaken title on you.
"Baby? Are you okay?" Jungwon asked, hurrying in your direction while resting his hand on your lower back, guiding you to the long table where the enormous amount of dishes are laid out. He then softly murmurs against your ear, "I'm getting tired of that girl, please help me get rid of her."
You raised a suspicious eyebrow, "Weren't you enjoying the attention from her?"
You almost winced, you sounded like a jealous girlfriend back there, but Jungwon was too appalled to even notice the slip-up.
"The fu- No. I was being polite but one more of her screeching and god, I'd jump off a cliff."
His nauseated visage made you snicker in amusement, yet you acknowledged his scheme and you are ready to bring your inner Julia Roberts out.
"Yep, I'm fine.. baby." you intentionally made your voice louder, adding the bit after a millisecond of self reflection, pressing your body closer to his and boldly landing a palm over his chest, "So, what about the cheese?"
From your peripheral sight, the attendant was obviously fuming at the blatant display of affection. She did well at concealing her rage though, keeping an impassive guise in spite of her clenched fist.
Jungwon grabbed some pieces of the dairy products (no, not by his hands, they are conveniently skewered), inspecting them and as usual, lady whale in clown make-up happily expounds each and every last one of the cheese to him.
He was unfazed by the unsolicited trifling, instead fixing his whole attention on you, his hands clutching yours when he felt your grip on him became tighter at the girl's attempt of flirting with him.
"Here, taste it for me." he prodded you, gently feeding you each cheese, completely disregarding whatever chatter was happening around the room.
The delicious milk excites you, unconsciously doing the dance that you used to do whenever you find a magnificent dish.
Jungwon beams, finding your actions endearing, then it fell down when the attendant who couldn't take a damn hint pitched in some cynical comment towards you.
Oh, he was about to berate her, but you stopped him from doing so, wanting to deal with the mini but pointless battle.
"Miss, may I ask what's your preferred cheese?" you detach yourself from the boy, squaring up to the attendant.
You're about to give her a taste of her own medicine, except you are preparing it to be more bitter than a gosam tea.
She eyed you sassily, feigning a cheerful expression before pointing at the Ricotta.
"I knew you were a basic bitch." a depreciating giggle was heard from you, facing Jungwon and throwing your hands around him which he naturally returned, "Wonnie, we should get the Brie de Meaux."
"Hm? Okay then, we'll order that. We expect everything to be fresh and that it will arrive on time next week." Jungwon utters with finality, his words directed to the food presenter but he did not batted her with any ounce of regard.
You craned your neck, smirking at the aggravated woman.
Sweet victory. Well, it's not like she had any winning odds. She had it coming to her either way, fighting a losing skirmish.
Today's events should've scared you to your wits. The manner in which you and Jungwon held, talked, and looked at each other.. it was too innate. It did not feel like you were putting on a show to make that witch act accordingly.
It's peculiar that the day ended in a carefree manner. Both sides were satisfied and radiant, no bickering and no ill intentions whenever the other had their back undefended.
Maybe the soliloquy under the rain washed the remnants of black smoke and withered petals away, creating a blank canvas that can be painted with the daylight colors of a blossoming friendship.
Yeah, that must be it. Friendship.
Day 4: Flowers
"Red roses are good. Also, please add some white lilies and pink carnations into the roster, she'll love it." you rambled to the florist, but she merely gave you an understanding nod and proceeded to work with your request.
A yawn was heard from the corner of the shop and you suppressed the urge to punch the suspect of the offending sound, you chose the peaceful option of ignoring the person, continuing to mind your own business not until someone broke the silence that you've been enjoying.
"What's taking so long?" he asked, boredom lacing his tone, and that's when you whipped around to give him a warning look.
"Jungwon, picking the perfect flowers takes some time. If you want to go home, then go. No one's stopping you." you sassily replied, gracing him a tight lipped smile in the process.
It irked you even more when he rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that you're sure is a snide remark towards you.
He was fine the last few days, so why on earth is he acting like a brat now?
You sighed, rubbing your forehead and pondering some ways to de-stress later. Surely, planning a proposal with your ex-boyfriend is something that you, a sane person, wouldn't do during your free time but here you are.
What was your brother even thinking, sending you with this jerk (which is conveniently his best friend), to help and prepare for the upcoming surprise for his girlfriend. Of course you'd love to do whatever you can for your dear sibling, but this is ruthless.. and plain torture.
While yes, you agreed to your brother's request, days like this where Jungwon is being unbearable made you question your decisions in life.
Just before you go deeper within your thoughts, a handsome man holding a bouquet of your chosen flowers emerged from the back room. He beamed at you, his eyes crinkling adorably and his dimples poked through his cheeks.
"Hello there!" he greeted you with joy, polite but bright and it made you naturally smile as well. Like they say, happiness is a virus that can easily infect anyone.
"Yes, hello uhm.." you trailed off, looking at his name tag, "Soobin?"
"That's me." he giggled and dear lord, were you about to burst at his charming facade, "I'm the floral designer here and I wanna ask if you're okay with this presentation?" he raised an eyebrow, showing you the beautifully arranged bunch of flowers, wrapped in an abaca and tied with a pink ribbon.
"Oh, it's gorgeous! You're great at this." you exclaimed, making the tall man blush, getting shy at your compliment.
"Ah, not really. The flowers are doing most of the work here, which I'm guessing are your favorites?" he scratched the back of his head, gazing at you with a soft smile.
Jungwon on the other hand frowned, like, what the fuck is this exchange of flirting he's seeing?
Not. Fucking. Tolerable.
He stood up from where he was seated, slamming his hand on the counter, effectively startling the two people who were conversing which gave him immense satisfaction.
"That's good enough. We'll take that." he feigned a charming smile, allowing the dent on his cheeks to show as well.
That Soobin guy can go to hell, his height and deep voice (that were a stark contrast to his own traits) do not matter, he's not the only one with dimples here.
You were shocked, surprised, disturbed, all adjectives out there are not enough to describe the bombshell that Jungwon dropped, but you weren't gonna stand there and let him be rude. Right as you were about to tell him off and apologize to Soobin, he managed to leave an impact again.
This time, it's fatal for your poor, weak heart.
"And those aren't her favorites. It's a combination of lilac, purple peonies and white tulips, actually."
You bent your neck to look at him, realizing the small proximity you two are in. He's mere inches away from you. Too close that you're able to see his sharp side profile and inhale the scent that you've tried to desperately forget during the sleepless nights where all you've wanted was to be held by him.
You have forgotten about Soobin by now, the vow that you took, the walls that you've built, everything. The only thing that you care about as of the moment is that Jungwon remembers.
Jungwon still knows the flowers that you wanted for your own wedding.
"Jungwon.." his lowly muttered name from your lips made him aware of his surroundings, noticing how close he was standing next to you, quickly distancing himself so as to not make you uneasy.
"I'm sorry." he cleared his throat, sparing Soobin a glance before making an ungraceful exit from the flower shop. A half-assed excuse of having to do something and that he'll leave the decision to you.
When Jungwon was out of the establishment, you turned to Soobin and shot him an apology as well.
"Nah, it's fine. Seems like I crossed a line." he chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at you teasingly afterwards, "He might come off as a passive one but he's actually possessive. That's hot."
You snorted and rolled your eyes, bluffing an expression of indifference and denying whatever the florist was trying to imply.
"He's not a boyfriend?" he asked, listing the order and other details so it'll be delivered on time for the celebration.
"No, not a boyfriend. He's a friend." emphasizing the latter, though it was clear that Soobin wasn't persuaded, given by the knowing smile he sent you.
"If you say so."
You hummed, eyes trailing to the cat-like boy outside, having finished his 'business' and is now leaning against his car, patiently waiting for you.
Having him as a friend is a good thing, yeah, you'll convince yourself that.
Day 5: Engagement ring
"Thank god Yeonjun actually did something for his own wedding proposal." you groaned, threading through the people of the jam-packed mall, spotting the familiar male in front of the jewelry shop that you've been finding for the past five minutes.
You were about to yell at him, but then you noticed he was busy with his phone. He was texting someone, with a small smile.. and dare you say that it was a smitten one.
The world slows down for a while in your perspective, you have to remind yourself that yesterday's ruckus, and the other days before that were nothing but a sham. A mere helping hand and concern for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.
You told yourself not to be envious, in fact, it could be his sister or friend or a relative! Yada yada, no, it doesn't really matter even if it's a prospective lover.
Totally none of your business.
You inhaled, gripping your bag rigidly and stiffly walking towards him. Your silhouette must have caught his attention as he hastily closed and hid his phone in his pocket, acknowledging your presence with a tasteless hello.
Today's task is not a laborious one, you just have to check if the engagement ring is done and if it'll fit the finger properly. After that, you can take it back home, give it to Yeonjun so he could sneak it and voila- simple as that.
Entering the shop had your eyes bulging, the prices of the ornaments had you gagged. The fuck you mean an engagement ring can go up to a whopping 2 million won or more?
"These are expensive." you gasped, "Who would've thought that getting married can be this costly?"
"It's a precious gemstone, carved and refined into amelioration. It shows how much one cares about their partner, don't you think so, mademoiselle?" a voice startled you, clutching your chest, the jeweler behind the counter gave you a dazzling, apologetic smile at his suddenness.
"Gosh no, don't get me wrong. They are divine!" you raised your hands up in defense, "I'm sorry if I offended you."
"It's no problem." he laughs it off, placing a velvet red box on the glass counter, leniently opening it and you were blown away at the visuals of what was inside it. "By the way, this is the jewelry that you requested."
You were amazed to say the least. Yeonjun might be an idiot when it comes to art, but you can guess that love does strange things. He chose the perfect ring that his girlfriend will surely love.
"Is this ready to go?" Jungwon asked, startling you for the second time of the day, which was partially your fault because you did forget that he was beside you all this time while you're busy gawking at the trinkets.
He carefully studied the ring, the golden band with a cut of rose quartz on top glistens under the lighting of the establishment, it is truly sublime.
"One last step, monsieur. We have to make sure that it fits, you should try it on our mademoiselle here." the jeweler motioned to you, and you were about to reject him, apprehensive of the idea but you saw Jungwon hold his hand out.
You gaped at the boy, not expecting him to concede right away.
Time ticked by yet he's not showing any signs of trickery, the pressure weighs on your shoulders but you complied, cautiously covering his palm with your own.
It was electrifying, the way his fingers grazed your knuckles and his softened gaze on your skeptical mien. Goosebumps run across your arms, tickling the sentiments that you've locked in a vault as he slides the metal that was supposedly filled with promises on your ring finger.
"Gorgeous." Jungwon breathes, and you'd think that he was pertaining to the jewelry only if you did not miss the elusive starred glance he sent your way.
You surveyed your clasped hands, zooming on the ring and damn it to hell, it's too real to ignore and you're about to make a grave mistake if this continues.
A cough pulled you out of your self-absorbed hallucinations, separating your hand from Jungwon's and swiftly removing the ring on your finger, returning it to its proper place.
"It's excellent, we'll take it." you pretended to be fine, like your heart isn't about to pop out of your chest due to tachycardia that was rightfully caused by the person who is currently cooking you with his heated stare.
The jeweler gave you two a once over, a strange smile on his face before excusing himself and disappearing at the back of the shop, probably to pack the ring.
"What?!" you snapped when he remained steadfast on his staring, not having enough patience at Jungwon's antics anymore, crossing your arms in an unsophisticated stance, ready to drop kick the mixed signal giver.
He cackled at your aggressiveness, patting you on the head, "You're adorable when you're flustered."
He's bad news. He's dissolving your resolve and you think it's funny how he's able to scratch your surface easily.
Have you always been this weak? Or are you delicate only in his company, as if it's second nature to you after being with him for the longest time?
You'll never know and you're dead set on not knowing.
You'd live in this bliss called ignorance if it means that you can carry on with the denial, because there is no fucking way you're regaining the ardor you once held for this dumbass who broke your fragile heart.
You'll blame the bygone familiarity.
Flicking his hand off, you mustered the most arrogant expression you could do, "I was born adorable, Yang."
Day 6: Music
"Your obsession with Taylor Swift is unhealthy."
"And you think that BTS will do the trick?"
Jungwon lets out an affronted wheeze, "Yeonjun-hyung loves BTS."
You side eyed him from your position on the floor, "And his girlfriend's whole anthem is Taylor Swift."
You glared at each other, having a silent clash on which music should be played during the proposal.
"Can't we have a common ground here?" you went over the counter, refilling your empty glass of cheap wine that you found in Jungwon's cabinet and chugging it in one go.
The two of you are currently conceiving the ideal music to be played during the actual proposal in his flat's kitchen. It's 7 PM, he invited you over, you accepted, and now you're giving each other shit for the difference in music taste.
You understand the assignment. It should be romantic enough that it'll set the mood, love will fill the air and possibly make the girlfriend cry. Thus, you recommended a song that fits the occasion, yet your nemesis begged to differ.
Jungwon clicked away on his laptop, scouring through youtube but it 'coincidentally' ends up in the same audio that he's been fighting for.
"Open your ears and listen, Euphoria is the real deal here." he sassed, and you couldn't help but scrutinize him, making your way over to him and tapping on his keyboard aggressively.
"Daylight is what we're looking for, buddy." you played the song, making Jungwon groan in distaste.
He was yapping about how picturesque the celebration would be if Euphoria echoes in the background while Yeonjun goes on one knee, professing his undying commitment to the love of his life.
You put a hand under your chin, pondering over the concept, then a light bulb went off.
You slapped Jungwon on the back, shrugging his pained mewls off and telling him the great idea that you got. He was tentative at first, but he still did it when you threatened him that you'll eat his last stored curry if he didn't do your request.
Finally, a mash-up of two love songs in piano versions was made.
You listened to it, and you mentally give yourself a pat on the back at your once in a blue moon stroke of genius.
Euphoria is a good option during the actual proposal, but what about after it?
Slow dancing under the fairy lights, foreheads touching with lovesick smiles, knowing that you're on the road to forever with your soulmate is equal to Daylight.
"If we're talking about a slow dance then Serendipity would do the job." Jungwon intercepts, emotionless at the compromise that you made.
With your hands on your hips, you started chiding him for the unsought disrespect, "Boohoo, if you tried dancing to this then maybe you'll realize how amazing this is."
You shrieked when you were suddenly whisked to your spot, landing in the middle of the kitchen as Jungwon stands in front of you with an unwavering determination.
"Show me then maybe I'll understand your point." he mumbles, then you pause, is he actually telling you to dance with him? Right now? In his kitchen?
This is so random and ridiculous. What made him think that you'd do such a thing just to get your intention across a river of crocodiles to him.
"I don't have to do that!" you whined, glowering at him, crossing your arms in disdain.
You don't know what kind of evil spirit possessed him to act like this, but you don't like it. Simply because it's making you incredibly perturbed.
"I won't settle for Daylight then."
And like fate is by your side, the lights in his kitchen, without notice, sparked and then poof! Gone.
It was pitch black, and you'd think that this is the divine intervention that you needed to flee the nerve wrecking condition he's put you through.
You heard Jungwon cuss, sputtering some 'Jay-hyung' and 'fixed it my ass' before ordering you to stay right where you are.
Some shuffling was heard, you'd be astounded at how he's navigating in this blackout but you gathered that he'd probably memorized the layout of his own house by heart.
All of a sudden, the classical melody of Daylight plays loudly on his gigantic speakers, then a dim yellow light covers a small area to illuminate.
Mr. Smartpants used the refrigerator to cast a glow in the darkness, and now he is right there, situated right where he used to be, meeting you face to face and you're lost.
Lost in his eyes, in the way he saunters to you, his palms landing on your waist as he begins to move in sync with the velvety melody.
He speaks in the softest decibel you've ever heard, feathery touches scorched you despite the clothes that separate the tiny space between his hand and your skin.
"Show me, Y/N, and I'll believe you."
You could've pushed him away, but no, you just had to hold onto his broad shoulders, letting him swing you back and forth, delicately following the rhythm of the music in accordance to the beating of your heart.
The lyrics got stuck in your head when you dared to peek at him through your eyelashes, the truth dawning on you— Yang Jungwon is your daylight.
He was intertwined with you by destiny itself. Your black and white cinematics became golden when he entered your story.
Why did it have to go all wrong instead of the one that you prayed for?
"Y/N," Jungwon hushed, "you have no idea of how much I've missed you."
Each word was heavily punctuated with a certain yearning, and it may be the intimacy of the atmosphere or your unholy alcohol consumption, but you suddenly have this desire to cradle his face.
So you gave in to it. You only live once, so why not make the most of it when an opportune moment appears.
"Did you really?" he leaned into your touch, dangerously close yet you paid no heed to the warnings, choosing to relish in his warmth.
He mirrored your smile, dimples poking through his cheeks, and you're unable to refrain yourself from poking it. Fingers gliding on his smooth skin, digging on the inherent dent that the angels sculpted and gifted him with.
His arms are now fully wrapped around your waist, the tip of your noses tickling each other, his hot breath blows over your dry lips every time he exhales, a contrast to the icy ventilation generated from the opened refrigerator.
"I did. So fucking much that I asked your brother to set us up."
What did he do?
You dropped your arms to your sides, appalled at his confession, forcing you to move back from him, creating a minimal margin with furrowed brows, "What do you mean by that?"
He held you back, securing you in his arms because there's no way he's letting you go like he did before. No more blunders that he'll inevitably repent at a later date.
"My love, please, hear me out." it was his turn to cup your face, dropping all formalities and going back to the endearment that he used to call you.
When you didn't answer, he took that as a cue to continue, "You broke up with me through text, you avoided me, and I.. I thought it was done. That it really was the best for us to separate ways. I thought moving on would be the best option, but it wasn't. I went to a whole other city to forget you, but even there you followed me."
You were breathing rapidly, trying to cope up with the information that he was spilling, you opened your mouth, barely managing to utter a single question, "How come?"
"Because you are here," he grasped your hand, guiding it to his temple, "here," to his chest, "everywhere really." finally bringing your hand up to peck the back of it.
"Everything that I see there reminds me of you.. of us, but I endured the pain of living without you until I saw a photo of you with a guy on your social media." he chuckles, murmuring against your skin, "That shit got my head spinning and I knew I had to get you back."
In a flash, you were outraged, hearing his impulsive decision rooted from his ugly green monster. Your memories have been refreshed, the dead case now reopened from the grave. How dare he decide that he'll walk in your life again after the bullshit that he had carelessly spat.
"Wow! The audacity that you have." you mused, completely disengaging yourself from him in spite of the aching protests of your consciousness to stay still in his arms, "After telling people that you don't see a future with me? Now, you want me back?"
Your over the top 'Ha!' at the end of your sentence had Jungwon reeling in anger. Here you go again, acting out the stubborn lioness made out of sheep's wool.
He took slow but gnarly steps towards you, his eyes that held daggers pierced through your soul and that unlocked a new fear within you, causing you to take your own steps backwards. The cycle went on, until your back hit the counter.
You cursed at the deities of fortune for their inadequacy at today's chapter of 'Y/N escaping confrontation with Jungwon part 2.'
"You never let me unravel whatever shit you're thinking or hearing." Jungwon sneers with steady footsteps, and you had the conviction to stare right into his own orbs only to be thrown into the rabbit hole.
There he was, treacherous vibe and clenched fists but all you could distinguish are his porcelain features and glassy eyes. Never had you ever thought that anyone would look divine with only a somber gleam and shadows casted over their face.
Yang Jungwon had a great ability of proving your theories erroneous.
Finally, he towers over you, caging you with his hefty and sullen stature, "You didn’t hear the full conversation and you're quick to judge."
You gulped in anticipation, closing your eyes shut while gripping the marbled countertop and bracing yourself for the wave that will crash upon you.
"Y/N, I do not imagine you in my future." that stings, that shit hurts to the point that tears begin welling up, then your eyes are wide open at his next words, "You are not in my future because you are the future. My future. Do you get it? I don't imagine. I, indubitably, want you to be at the center of it all."
He speaks nothing but the truth. Seriously, what is the point of all this if at the end of his sail in the sea, he doesn't have the reason why he even went on the journey beforehand.
You are stupid, you think, willing yourself not to cry at your own ignorance.
Two things were validated: you are a very bad eavesdropper and an even worse decision-maker.
"W-won..I ruined everything we had, didn’t I?" you sniffed, lowering your head in shame.
"Baby, my flower," Jungwon whispers, hugging you tightly before tilting your chin so you're able to look at him again, "don't cry. Shh, it's okay."
"How can you sa- hmpf!" your sentence was cut short when a pair of lips went and shut you up.
It was a searing and soulful kiss, more than sufficient to convey the flickering love that kept on shining even during the seasons of yearning and ache.
It was the assurance that you needed, that you are and will always be forgiven despite the conflicts that you've caused. All is well, all is fine because as far as Jungwon is concerned, it's okay if the mess turned out to be an arson you orchestrated.
People might brand him as the batshit crazy kid in town, but he couldn't care less. You are his mess and he is your crazy. Thus, he will gladly burn for you if it means that his ashes will stick on you like a tattoo.
You unintentionally moaned when Jungwon bit your lower lip, aggressively shoving his tongue down your throat as he hoisted you up on the counter. His hands went to your exposed thighs, courtesy of you wearing shorts, while yours landed on his tuft of silky hair.
He situated himself in between your legs, tracing lines on your thigh and in stupor, you vaguely made out the 'mine' and a mini heart he drew beside it... or that may be your imagination taking a toll on you since his ministrations are definitely making you intoxicated.
Jungwon explored your mouth like a hungry beast, swiping over your gums, your teeth. It was a temporary fight for dominance, to which you gave in easily, allowing him to massage your own tongue in his.
He momentarily pulled away for oxygen, instructing you to stick your tongue out, and he managed to elicit another moan from you when he sucked on it, a sensual exchange of saliva occuring, causing you to tug on his hair.
A groan escaped from him, kissing you some more before detaching himself on your bruised lips, opting to slide his head down the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and smooching all over that had you giggling.
He smiles against your skin, mumbling something that kind of sounds like 'Gosh, I love hearing you laugh.'
It was such a sweet moment, then the man went wild. Licking up a stripe just below your ears, lightly nibbling on your lobe to make you squeal before dipping his head in your clavicle, sinking his teeth on your collarbone before soothing it with a kiss. He then kicked it up a notch, skidding your shirt on your left shoulder to uncover more of your skin for him to feast on.
He trailed kisses on your shoulder, up to your weak spot until he decided to bite and suck on it, making you gasp in pleasure. You whimpered his name, which basically egged him to paint you more in purple, marking you as his.
Jungwon's hands can't stay in place, roaming around your body until it slips inside your oversized shirt. His calloused palms set your skin ablaze as it snaked over your bra-clad breast, palming it for a while before moving towards your back, unclasping your under garment and removing it expertly out of your shirt.
His hand groped your chest, the other one almost ripped your shirt in a haste to reveal the upper fats of your mound, his mouth immediately attaching on it to suck some more hickeys.
You were getting antsy in your position, wiggling and moving around to find some friction due to your growing needs. One that was found on Jungwon's jeans, pressing your lower half on his in a desperate attempt for relief.
"Fuck, baby." Jungwon cursed when you grinded on his clothed hard-on, his heavy panting covering the expanse of the room, "If you continue doing that, I won't be able to control myself anymore."
Your hooded eyes made contact with his dark ones, then you made a conclusion, pulling him in for a few seconds of make-out session.
"Don't control yourself then, Wonnie. I'm yours."
His smirk tells you that you don’t have to say anything anymore, swooping you off the counter princess-style, "I'll show you what it means to be mine, then."
Day 7: Finalization
It was safe to say that Jungwon was losing his mind throughout this ordeal.
He was set to wake up with you by his side, but to his dismay, no trace of you were left the next morning after your.. eventful night.
Jungwon was so sure that he'll straighten things up with you.
He already made a promise that he'll take care of you, that he'll love you more than he used to. He clarified your misunderstanding, reassuring you that communication will be the key this time around.
All those honeyed and candid pillow talk for this tomfoolery to happen?
Jungwon is not known for bragging but heck, you were, without a doubt, sent to heaven back on earth when he showed you how much he misses, loves, and owns you.
So where the fuck are you and why did you leave him alone and cold in his bed?
You didn't block him per se, his messages and calls going through but he did realize that you're actively avoiding him again.
This is literally making his blood boil, add to that the piling stress of overseeing the venue and other things for the proposal tomorrow alone.
"Jungwon!"
Well no, technically he's not alone. Yeonjun graciously called another friend to assist him during your unexcused absence. (He was being dramatic because you're not here with him.)
"What!?" he snapped, looking at the shocked but amused older male.
"Damn, did someone spit in your coffee today?" the man cackled, nudging Jungwon with a teasing grin.
"I'll spit on you if you don't drop it." Jungwon scowled, not in the mood to play around, "What do you need, Jay-hyung?"
The American smirked, biting his lower lip to withhold himself from tittering and possibly further annoying the moody sheep, "The workers are asking where to put the cut outs. They need instructions."
Jungwon groaned, that was meant to be your job!
"Okay, I'll go there." he says, stomping his way into the middle of the garden, and if you look closely, you'll be able to see the popping veins in his forehead and the fuming smoke coming out his ears.
Jay shook his head, truly, you have no idea how much you affect Jungwon, don't you?
D-day
Jungwon was 100% sure that you wouldn't attend, but then you got him flabbergasted when you appeared in your splendid glory.
Oh, what a gem you are. Your make-up and hair are elegantly done, and he thinks you're taunting him when you wore that godforsaken backless blue dress that you hauntingly paired with black pumps.
That night, he was certain you were shunning him away for whatever reason you have... and he's going to uncover you.
Jungwon was basically a walking thundercloud in there, but thankfully, the celebration and proposal went on without a hitch.
It was an enchanting scenario, the way Yeonjun dropped on one knee, professing a lifetime of a home filled with happiness and prosperity. It made you tear up, especially when his girlfriend said yes, their genuine smiles and love touching you to no end.
Then a minute speech ensued, the couple appreciating everyone who was with them throughout their relationship, a special shout out for those who helped Yeonjun with the proposal, which included you and the name you don't wanna hear.
His girlfriend suddenly cleared her throat, announcing an unusual tradition that she wanted to do for a while now, "I know this is done during the wedding but I want to do this uniquely."
She then walked up to you, thrusting the bouquet in your hands, "I love you like you're my own sister. Y/N, I want you to be happy too, to get married someday. I know that you'll find the right man soon."
You gripped the bundle of flowers with resentment. You're drowning in the flood of doubts but you still managed to thank her with a small smile. She merely gave you a cheeky wink, returning to her former spot and throwing herself in your brother's arms.
The gathering continued, visitors dancing, eating and drinking while you stood there at the side, contemplating whether to join in on the fun or be the kill joy of the day.
A rookie mistake that you did though was when you looked up, directly staring into the chocolate orbs of the man that you recently gave your purity to, only for him to drop it on the floor to watch it shatter into pieces.
You hated yourself for giving in, but you hated it more when your heart rate sped up at the meager eye contact with him. You hated the fact that the world seemed to cease its rotation when you're hit with the reality that you're in his presence. 
Your vision might have gone bad because how come that he's the only thing that you could emphasize on while the others are nothing but bleary images.
This is incorrect, an imprecision. it made you sick to your stomach when his dimples revealed themselves, much so when you were compelled to kiss it.
You had to get out of here and take a breather.
Thus, you find yourself standing in front of a pond, back in some alley in the garden. Good thing that the venue is spacious, having this kind of area as a getaway car from the rambunctious spell that the gods have cast upon you.
"You should join a marathon for being such a good runner." a sarcastic voice had your body stone cold, anxiety enveloping your whole being at the looming adversary that you have to face.
"Thank you for the advice that I won't engage in." you tried to sound strong, but your voice box failed you when your sentence came out meek and shaky.
Jungwon chortled at the ridiculousness of the situation. He finds it funny how the progress went from 0 to 100 then back to 0.
"What are you laughing about?" you lifted an eyebrow, cautiously peering at his abrupt change in mood.
"You." he mutters, gnashing his teeth while he eyed you incredulously, "You're a whole circus, from giving me false hope to stepping all over my heart. Real clown right here."
That made you scoff, bewildered at his rude attitude, accusing you of these things when in your perspective, he was the one playing games all along.
"Aren't you aware that you are the embodiment of a personified clown?" you're an erupting volcano, and you couldn't hold it back anymore, "I trusted you! Then I wake up in the middle of the night, see a text message on your phone from an unknown number saying that your baby misses you."
Jungwon opened his mouth to speak, but no, you weren't done yet. This film is something you have seen before, except tonight, it's not through a cowardly text message, you'll say it directly to him.
"Were your feelings truly genuine or you just weren't patient enough? Did you really love me or were you in love with the thought of having someone kiss you during your darkest nights, or having someone hold you during your coldest days? The chances that weren't given to you, you only chose me for that, right? Successfully distracting your heart that wasn't meant to take a risk."
A moment of silence. Then Jungwon gave you a bittersweet smile, turning around so you're now facing his back.
"Mrs. Shin asked me if I was lying to her about us not being together. She said that the way I looked at you was comparable to a devotee, like you are the reason for my being."
What? What is he talking about?
"When you were doting on Sunoo, you recall that kid back at the mall? Yeah him, I had this epiphany of you being my wife, the mother of my children."
This isn't the answer that you've been looking for, but it has you stunned to the core.
"That flower guy was annoying. His dimples got me jealous, got me carried away. When you acted as my girlfriend to fend off that presenter, I wished it was true. Then I couldn't shake the butterflies in my stomach when I put that ring on you. And during the fateful night, I really thought we had something going on there."
Jungwon's shoulder shook, his head moving upwards as an attempt to dry the moisture away. If this is how it's ending, then he'd let you go. But not after spilling his endless rumination and sentiments for you.
When you broke up with him, it felt like he was dying. He was an empty shell without you. He hated you for not giving him the chance to explain himself, but he hated himself more when he gave up and moved away to cover up his wounds.
Then he saw an opportunity to be with you again, and so, he begged Yeonjun to help him, but his efforts were all in vain, it seems.
"Y/N, I dreamt of you in a white gown, walking down the aisle of the red carpet. I've always prayed for you to be my endgame. But if I really don't have a chance with you anymore, then I'll bury all those dreams away."
He finished, letting the stream out, tired of holding it back. Tired of fighting a losing battle. He'll leave your life for good, heavy footsteps crackling under the pebbles. Then he stopped, "By the way, that message you saw was from my sister's new number. And the baby that was mentioned was my dog."
If there's an award for the best lunatic out there, it must be given to you. An amateur snooper that knows nothing but to misinterpret people.
You gulped and made a run for it, throwing the bouquet that you are still holding to fully embrace Jungwon from the back, burying your face in his expensive cashmere suit.
"The chance never left, Jungwon." you muttered softly, hugging him tighter to prevent him from leaving, "It never left, and it wants you to stay."
Jungwon lets out a weak laugh, "If you're doing this out of pity t-"
"No!" you cried out, because you're tired as well. Tired of hiding things from him, for foolishly keeping it all in when you could've talked it out.
You poured the stashed secrets. From the handmade paper ring that you were about to give him when you heard him in the student council room. to how you're afraid that college life might bring a fissure in your relationship, so you wanted to give him something that'll remind him of you and your love.
You told him that you cannot see a future without him, so you prematurely went into a heartbreak episode when you misunderstood his words. Every fault is a series of your insecurities and skepticism of a happy ending with him.
You confessed to him that you have always loved him, that your heart still belongs to him. You're just a plain idiot that couldn't communicate well but you swear, he's the only one that you'd choose in a room full of other men.
You spewed out promises of telling him whenever you're overthinking or overfeeling things. That you wouldn't get ahead of yourself next time, that you'd trust him more.
Your wrongdoings are not to be tolerated, but you'd do your best to make it up to him.
Jungwon finally turns around, his dried tear stains on his cheeks pains you, yet he's a sweetheart, wiping your own salty tears in lieu of his.
"The paper ring." he mumbles while bolstering your cheeks on his palms in a silly manner, pressing his forehead on yours, "Make me that paper ring again, this time give it to me."
You nod with the full intent of handing him the gift with the oath of staying by his side until you have both achieved your dreams and aspirations in life. 
Pinky promises are mainstream, adorable yes, but the best is sealing a promise with a kiss.
The buzzing noise of the party in the garden turned into white noise, the focal point is on the subject of your affection. The man who is currently kissing you under the stars. 
There is this one term that you read once, ‘Ephemeral.’
It was a pretty word, but its meaning is sorrowful. 
Yet with Jungwon, seeing the silver lining of the word is easier than studying for an exam.
The pain, arguments, hugs, kisses, and life itself is short-lived. Fleeting memories forgotten when you’re gray and old. Still, that gives you more reason to rejoice the moments as much as you can.
Besides, if Yang Jungwon is by your side, then every ephemeral will last perpetually.
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