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#'if we had a time machine today i would kiss him on the lips and hang him in the hague'
lesbianshepard · 1 year
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tumblr is the best social media platform regarding classics because if you see someone on other sites post about ancient roman stuff you gotta do some digging to see if they're a white supremacist.
but on tumblr if you click the blog and the first post is a painting/sculpture/etc of two roman guys and the comment is like "prev tags: #they should have fucked nasty and avoided the whole war thing bestie the sex being bad is why they started a civil war"
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tarjapearce · 9 months
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Tentateur
Miguel O'Hara x Cheated on!fem Reader
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WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. SMUT at the end, bit of angst, fluff, adult situations. Cheating, divorce.
Requested here
Summary: Miguel can't stand watching you being neglected by your husband.
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If there was something Miguel hated, was life being too generous upon those that didn't deserve it, not even the slightest. Meaning, a dickhead for a coworker and sadly, your husband.
How could such a guy like him ended up with a sweetheart like you was beyond him, The man was apathetic, little to no charm, rude and an absolute bastard.
"She's uh, my wife." He had said flatly. Your name felt like sandpaper on his tongue as it rolled out of it while introducing you to the rest at a small party at Alchemax.
Miguel had noticed the little stab of hurt crossing your angelic face. He wanted to punch him straight in the face, even some of the other couples had noticed the small tension. But you just stood there, trying to give your best smile. The golden band around your finger and the loving stare your eyes casted on your husband was a clear 'Don't even try it' for him.
But for once, Miguel didn't care.
----
He didn't exactly know how the crush on you had started. At first he thought that was just him feeling lonely and that his eyes wandered too much. But when you visited, lunch bag in hand, looking for your husband only to give him a bedazzling smile upon seeing him, and he receiving you with a tight-lipped smile, made his heart to break a little more.
"Hey" You were about to kiss him but he just backed away.
"I'm working."
"Alright, alright. See you later?"
He just gave a quick nod and put the lunchbox on his desk. There wasn't love in his goodbye kiss, Miguel noted. Once you were out, he rummaged through its contents while rolling his eyes.
He looked around and spotted Miguel with a mug on his hand.
"Hey, pal." He called and offered him.
"Want some?" Miguel seized him from head to toes but just nodded. It felt the only way that he could have a bit of you at the moment.
"Take whatever you like. Wife always goes overboard with food." Miguel took the small dessert container. It tasted divine. It only matched your own sweetness.
Lucky Bastard.
Oh he was. His eyebrows pressed together as he kept giving away all the food you had so dotingly prepared him.
----
"Can we talk about this later? You can't just keep visiting me every time you feel so"
"But you keep forgetting lunch at home, can't leave you like-"
"It's fine really, we have vending machines here." Your husband grumbled, but you couldn't help but hold the lunchbox tightly against your arms.
"I see. Sorry." You gave him a small smile, "See you later?"
"Im busy today. Might get a couple hours late. Don't wait for me." 
You just nodded as Miguel jaw tensed.
How dared he?
You left.
-----
You had bumped into him at the supermarket on a weekend. Your cart was full of food, food that would end up in his hands and the rest of the team but never in your husband's mouth.
"Miguel, right?"
He nodded as he pulled some items for himself in his basket.
"Thanks for helping me." you smiled, his heart thumped harder.
"Where is..." He cleared his throat and you looked up at him.
"My husband? Oh, he said he had an extra shift today. Working in Alchemax surely is hard, I mean, I try to make it less... bad for him."
Miguel's mind was sneering, not at you but at the fake pretense of a hard working man the son of a bitch had put up with you. He knew the truth, he knew your husband only went there, did things wrong and half assed, and lately he had been flirting shamelessly with a lab technician from the upper floor.
His hatred for the man only grew, just as his admiration for you. What truly made you marry someone like him? That's the biggest question he had so far.
"I'm kind of nervous, today's our anniversary. I wanna surprise him with something" Your cheeks tinted red.
God you were killing him. He wanted to grab you gently by your shoulders, and say 'I can be better' cause of course he could, he was. You'd never have to settle for less with him.
'I appreciate you' cause he did, unlike the fool you had married. 'You'd never have to beg me' because in truth, he was already at your feet.
But you weren't his. Not yet.
-----
Sighing, Miguel put the lab test equipment away, then headed for the main office to get a couple more samples of a liquid he tried, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight.
Legs wrapped around a man's waist, as his pants were down at his ankles. The woman shrieked once she noticed Miguel standing there with a frown and disgusted face. Miguel’s anger froze when the man next to her turned to be none but your husband.
The man recoiled to himself upon Miguel glaring holes his way.
----
His shoulder was poked by none other that the cheating pig.
"Uh, hey. Can we.... Can you, I mean-"
He stumbled on his words, Miguel towered over him, his eyes belittling him. He was bold.
"You saw nothing, yeah?"
And oh so phony. Disgusting.
Miguel just went back to his work.
It was the last straw.
-------
To his surprise you were sitting on a café, puffy and tear crusted eyes staring into nothingness, a phone on your hands. You knew.
He didn't know whether to approach you, or just leave you be. As much as he wanted you, he knew that coming at you in your most vulnerable state would not only make a bad impression oh him, but he didn't want to act like a vulture, looming over your broken heart for him to take.
He approached carefully.
"Hey"
"Miguel..."
"Are you okay?"
Your eyes avoided him.
"May I sit?"
You nodded with a hiccup and he offered you his handkerchief, fresh hot tears spilled  in the soft fabric. His chest constricting at the sight.
"He cheated on me."
Much to your dismay, he knew. Of course, he wanted to tell you, but knowing how careless your husband acted, it was a matter of time for you to discover the cheating.
"I'm really sorry to hear that."
Shaking your head, you sniffed
"He has been doing this for months. Should've... saw this coming. I mean... I found so many pictures of a woman and... God"
He was pretty sure that he would punch the man next time he'd see him.
"He never came home to our anniversary, but even way before that. He just... I wasn't enough."
He frowned and took your hand softly.
"Stop. Cheating is a personal choice, guapa. You can't blame yourself for other's choices. He decided to do so, to trash away his marriage. It has nothing to do with you."
"Maybe if... I was-"
"No. You're... you're perfect. Puta madre,  you're more than perfect. He's a lucky bastard just to have you. And... If I was him-"
He stopped his words and pursed his lips. You didn't need this. He'd have to be patient. You stared at him gently.
"I'll file for a divorce. He's barely coming home anyways and... that pretty much says on it's own that is over."
Miguel just nodded.
"Might celebrate it." You chuckled after wiping your tears.
"Can I ask you something?"
Again, you nodded.
"I know it's none of my business but, I'm just genuinely curious as to why you'd marry him?"
"Impulsiveness, I guess." you shrugged, your hand resting some inches away from his.
"He just proposed one day out of the blue, we had been dating for six months. Don't... don't look at me like that. I know it was stupid." you groaned.
"It's alright. You thought it was love." His hand inched closer, you nodded.
"We had our problems. A lot, actually. But... instead of speaking things like a fucking adult, he went on cheating."
"Mira, guapa... yo" He trailed off unsure of resisting any longer, his resolution to wait vanishing, "I know that this is a really bad time for you and-"
"Please... don't. Miguel I-"
"Just listen, ok? Please?" His hand finally took yours gently.
"I know this is the least of things you need right now, but... You have no idea how... how perfect you are. I always saw you visiting him, being loving, and he just threw all that away. He lost you. You're way too much for him."
Your body tensed upon sensing where this was going. Of course you weren't ignorant, you'd notice the glances he would give your way, the yearning in his eyes every time you kissed or acted like lovesick fool with your glacial husband.
" Let me show you, how would I treat you, if you were mine."
"Miguel, I don't want to-."
"Let me take you to dinner. If you don't like anything and I mean it, anything, I'll stop and leave you be. Just a dinner. Hell, you could ramble about him for hours and I'd just be happy for you to be there."
You sighed, it was a rather simple choice to say yes or no. There was nothing that actually tied you to your ex husband now. Just a very skewed moral code.
" Just a dinner. "
His heart fluttered and he nodded
"Just a dinner and I'll drop you home."
----
Miguel helped you out of his car, eyes drinking in your form. He would be lying if he said that he didn't feel jealous of the dress you were wearing, snugging all your curves in the right spots, just a tiny thing to make your own beauty to stand out even more. Gorgeous, flawless, divine and perfect.
You gasped at the location
"Are you sure this is the place? It's quite expensive."
Your concern was endearing, he offered you his arm and guided you inside.
"You're worth it, princesa."
The place seemed like being inspired from an old movie, elegant, classic and of course fancy. Never in your life your ex husband would actually treat you to places like these. His card would explode, he said once. Other places were good, but this was in a whole new level of luxury.
Miguel held the chair for you, and you sat, he followed.
"This place is gorgeous." He chuckled and took your hand to kiss your soft knuckles.
"Just like you."
----
Time flew, the night had been to your surprise one of the best things that you have experienced. You had tasted things that didn't know existed, Miguel had fed you the dessert, pampering you to no end. The wine was delicious.
As night advanced, his little touches had turned more and more risqué, his fingers would take a taste of your exposed thigh skin, your hands would brush his, fiery and small caresses that sparked a silent yet mutual fire.
Once home you couldn't get your hands out of eachother. He had to be careful to not rip your dress to bits, he needed you. The wet kisses in your neck and his wandering hands all over your heated body the proof of it. When was the last time that someone touched you like this?
Not even him, the man that oathed to love you and be with you through thick and thin. A gentle rub on your clit by expert fingers made you forget about him. Lock his memory in a vault and you'd throw the key somewhere. Your hips would buck against his hand, rolling on waves after waves of pleasure.
"He didn't touch you?" You shook your head as your mouth gaped open.
"When was-"
"Shut up." you moaned breathlessly. An I don't know nor care.
Your body responded so well too him, be the need you tried to sate with your own hands, or the loneliness that had made you so desperate that had you squirming and soaked and he was only using his hands so far. With Miguel, things felt differently. He did things differently. And different was good. So so good.
His hunger for you shown and conveyed in every caress and touch he gave you. He was gentle enough for his desire to permeate your skin. You didn't feel alone. You felt needed. Loved even. There was no turning back once you discarded all the clothes on both ends.
----
Opposite to what you believed, your heart wasn't flooding with guilt. No.
There were no longer what ifs and what not constantly echoing in your brain. There was no longer that constricting sensation in your chest you always had. No more uncertainty. You were free.
Last night Miguel, whose arms cradled your form to be snuggled in his chest and his thigh hooked on your hip, hoarding you. As if fearful you'd go away, had made you experience a whole new concept of pleasure. Your body soared in bliss, you were glowing, He had given you climax after climax, making every single one of them more shattering and intense than the other.
That's all you wanted really. Feel at ease and blissful. Miguel had given you that and more. More than you actually ever though deserving. It was just a matter of time that you'd finally take him whole.
You wanted him. His kindness, his care, his love, his grumpyness during mornings, the way he cursed in spanish whenever he'd stub his toe in the nightstand. You wanted it all.
Of course you had filed for a divorce as soon as you could, your husband was more than happy to comply. He hadn't been home for a while, Miguel even told you that he had quitted. It was as if the universe was removing him from your life ever since you started with Miguel a couple months ago.
But none of that mattered. Not when he had plopped you down to bed, hands holding a firm grip in your sweaty and smooth skin, hips straddling yours and plowing into you from behind, prone bone position. His hips buried himself deep, hitting that spot over and over. He wasn't gentle, but that's just exactly how you liked it.
Before you could actually reach the stars he flipped you over, your thighs resting ontop of his. He sheathed once more inside. Your phone buzzed.
You growled in annoyance, Miguel sighed. A number you knew all too well. Finally you'd get the news you so needed to hear.
"Y-Yeah?" Miguel smirked as he held your thighs together and pushed in further, his tip kissing your cervix so deliciously you had to bite your lip to suppress a moan. The little baby bump in your abdomen barely noticeable.
"Shit's done. Papers are signed."
There was a bit of rustling and the clinking of glass. By his tone, you knew he was getting drunk, celebrating. Miguel took the phone and put it on speaker.
"Ya know? I'm glad I did. Couldn't stand you, nagging all the time. But I'm a free man now, baby." His gulping, something you secretly hated, could be heard on the other line.
Miguel frowned and spreaded your legs once more.
"You there?" Your ex chuckled, "It's okay if you're crying, won't judge"
So so annoying.
A smirk appeared on your face as Miguel focused the camera on your body. He then turned the video call on. The man's face instantly fell upon watching you bouncing on a cock that surely put his to shame. Spine arching, breast jiggling and mouth spewing the lewdest of moans and needy whimpers he hsd ever heard from you. One tan hand secured you in place, preventing you from squirming too much.
"Sorry, pal." He grunted as he started to ram his hips in abandonment, making your toes curl. Your face and body said it all. The video image shaking at his thrust
"Just like that, bonita?" You choked a sob as he went balls in deep, nodding and begging him for him to not stop.
"She's busy." He hung up the call before the man could say anything and tossed your phone somewhere in the bed.
You felt so good, perfect for him, And now you were all his.
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tag list: @primroselovessupernatural
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piichuu · 10 months
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♡ SLEEPING ON THE COUCH AFTER AN ARGUMENT
ft. toge inumaki, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi, yuta okkotsu, gojo satoru, geto suguru, itadori yuji
WARNINGS: it’s my first time writing yuta so might be ooc, gn!reader, fluff
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TOGE INUMAKI
the two of your are staring at each other. toge is sitting on the floor, right by the couch as you’re on your side, head on a pillow and a blanket wrapped around you. the reason for this is a fight you two had via text, all about the fact that he’s never home these days because he’s been too busy with work.
it had taken a toll on you that you weren’t able to see him and it eventually snapped, but it wasn’t exactly his fault. he wasn’t the one who chose to to spend his entire days at work instead of home together with you, it was his boss who decided that and he had nothing to say about it. he’s been dying to see you, but he didn’t expect you two to not spend time with one another when he finally came back home and actually had the time.
but you soon realized that sleeping on the couch wasn’t the most mature choice, so when he entered the living room and sat by the couch, you whispered a small “i’m sorry,” before getting down on the floor and wrapping your arms around him, allowing toge to pull you into his lap so the two of you could hug each other close. “i know it’s not your fault, i shouldn’t have spent the only time this week we had together, not being with you because i was mad because of something stupid.”
he shakes his head and kisses your cheek while eventually standing up to then take your hand and lead you into the bedroom so the two of you can sleep together. he can’t communicate with spoken words, but as he puts his arms around your waist when you lay down under the covers, you know that it will all be okay, you’ll get to spend more time together again.
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NANAMI KENTO
“darling, you don’t have to sleep out here. come to bed and we’ll talk about it there, okay? let’s not be mad at each other,” your boyfriend says while leaning against the doorframe leading into the living room. he’s wearing a pair of sweatpants as he’s just about to go to sleep, but he won’t if you aren’t there with him.
you’ve just made a bed for yourself on the couch as he talks to you. his voice is soft and comforting, like it always is, no matter the amounts of fights you’ve had. maybe that’s what’s most frustrating, how he can forgive you so easily after you’ve been yelling at him and the fact that you’re the one who’s trying to avoid him when he’s been nice to you all day.
you allow a sigh to escape your lips. nanami is still standing further away from you, not wanting to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable in case you’re still angry with him. you were jealous, you had seen him with someone else when you walked past a cafe on your daily walk home from work, but it had only been a coworker of his that he had a meeting with since they were new and needed guidance. but you couldn’t help the fear that took over your entire body, the fear of losing him forever.
“i’m sorry, kento,” “it’s okay, i know you were just scared. but you never have to worry, because there is no one else for me, no one else. okay?” he steps closer to you, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck to hug him close. nanami can’t help but smile to himself, putting his own arms around your waist so he can pull you as close as possible. “we’re okay, darling. let’s just go to sleep now, hm?”
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
he sighs from where he’s standing right beside the couch. you’re already asleep, but no matter for how many hours he tried, nothing seemed to work. he regrets how he raised his voice at you when he got home. everything in his life seemed to have brought him to frustration and just seeing that you hadn’t picked up some clothes you left on the floor caused him to break. if it was a usual day, that wouldn’t have bothered him. he would simply just pick them up and put them on a chair or in the washing machine, but today was different.
you had gone to sleep on the couch in case he would still be mad at you, but he had calmed down as soon as night fell and regret had washed over him, causing his sleep to be disturbed by his own thoughts, which is why he’s here, by the couch, not knowing what he’s supposed to do with himself.
he bites the inside of his cheek as he carefully lies down beside you. he would never want to admit that he can’t fall asleep without you in his arms, but it’s the truth. he needs to know that you’re there, that you won’t leave him, that he can make it all up to you no matter how long it takes. megumi would allow you to beat him into a pulp if that’s what it took for you to forgive him, he never wants to look at the dried tears on your cheeks ever again.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers as he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. you’re still asleep, but even in that unconscious state of yours, an arm slowly makes its way to grab his t-shirt, making sure he’s there. he places a soft kiss to your neck as he holds you tightly in his arms. “i love you, i’m sorry for being an idiot. i won’t ever do something like that again, i promise.”
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YUTA OKKOTSU
he bites his lip anxiously as he’s holding your hand, trying to hold you back from leaving the bedroom. he’s aware that you’re trying to get away from him so you can sleep on the couch on your own, but he won’t allow you to go to sleep without hearing his apologies first. he needs you to hear his apologies, even if they’re in vain.
yuta had been ignoring you today, not intentionally of course. he’d been stressed from the amounts of curses he had to fight today. it had all become so overwhelming that everything else just became a blur. he forgot about everything else and his only focus had been to fight curses and to then come home and stress even more about the fact that he could get another call that would tell him that he had to fight yet another one.
he was tired, overworked. the constant stress of not knowing whether he would get out of the fights alive or not. he knew you were worried about him and just wanted him to rest, but he couldn’t. he had to work, no matter how much it affected him mentally, but he couldn’t take it anymore and he understood that as soon as you had to yell at him to get his attention.
“i- i’m sorry, baby. i never meant to ignore you, it’s just overwhelming. it’s all so overwhelming and i wish i could spend every single minute of every day with you, but i can’t and i’m sorry about that too. just, please don’t sleep out on the couch, it’s uncomfortable. it’ll hurt your back,” he says while holding onto your hand tightly. there are tears forming in his eyes while speaking and when you turn to look at him, he’s instantly forgiven.
you cup his cheeks and stroke them comfortingly. “it’s okay. it just-it wasn’t nice being ignored but i know you never intended to, it was just frustrating. i worry about you and i really hope you’ll get a break sometime soon. you need it and you deserve it,” you smile at him softly and he nods, sniffling while burying his face in your shoulder. “let’s go to sleep together.” “yeah, let’s go to sleep together.
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GOJO SATORU
“don’t be mad, baby. i know it was stupid to scare you like that, i’m sorry,” he’s sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning down so his cheek is pressed against yours while he’s speaking. every once in a while, he presses a few kisses to your skin, wanting you to know that he’s truly sorry.
earlier this evening, he hadn’t replied to any of your text messages when he was out with friends. he had seen the texts but wanted to see how you would react if he didn’t answer. this was an idea he would soon regret, he realized it almost as soon as you began calling him at least ten times per minute.
when he came home you had been crying and he’s never felt as bad as he did when seeing you like that because of something he did. after that, you refused to talk to him. he understood why, but he didn’t want you to sleep on the couch, he wanted to hold you in bed and kiss you while apologizing as much as possible.
“i’ll never ever do that again. i’m always gonna text you and call you so you know i’m safe. i don’t ever want to hurt you, i’m so sorry,” he strokes your hair and eventually, you turn to look at him, tiredness clouding your eyes as you look at him through the dark. “it was really stupid satoru.” “yes” “and you’re dumb” “yes” “and i will personally kill you if this ever happens again” “you won’t” “yeah, i won’t.”
you sigh and lean into his touch as he cups your cheek and rubs it comfortingly. “i can cook you breakfast tomorrow,” he mumbles, causing a smile to appear over your lips. “you better, and give me lots of hugs and kisses too or you’re not forgiven,” you giggle and he kisses the tip of your nose with a bright smile on his face. “i could never say no to that.”
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GETO SUGURU
“stop staring at me, suguru.” “i’m not staring.” “liar” “shut up”
you don’t even know what the fight was about anymore, but you still allowed it to go on for long, so long that it’s now lead you to sleeping on the couch, but geto suguru will certainly not allow you to sleep out here. if he has to drag you into the bedroom and then lock the door so you can’t leave the room and is forced to stay in bed with him, he will do just that.
“get up from the couch and come to bed with me,” he says but you stare at him blankly while slowly sitting up. “ask nicely and i might consider it,” suguru rolls his eyes, but eventually gives in, taking a deep breath as if it’s one of the most difficult things he’s been asked to do. “please y/n, come back to bed, i don’t wanna fight with you anymore.”
you don’t even think about it and he knows you aren’t either, you both already knew you’d be ready to come back to bed with him as soon as he asked the first time, but there’s no fun in that. unfortunately you’re both tired, so asking him to call you all these pet names to make you listen to him doesn’t even cross your mind. you just get up from the couch and let him put an arm over your shoulder as he leads you into the bedroom, kissing your cheeks. “you’re not mad right?” “no, it’s all forgotten.”
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ITADORI YUJI
his hand is warm as it brushes over your cheek. he’s been placing kisses to your face for minutes now, wanting you to know that he’s truly sorry for getting mad at you earlier today. he wants to see that pretty smile of yours back on your face, he wants to hold you close when he falls asleep, hearing your soft breathing against his neck as you go to sleep in the warmth of his embrace.
you eventually have to put one hand on his arm as he begins to pepper your entire face with kisses, not even stopping to catch his breath. giggles soon begin to escape your lips which only causes yuji to continue. he can’t help but chuckle lightly when hearing you giggle and he looks at you fondly when pulling away, brushing a hand through your tangled hair. “i’m sorry, baby. i really am,” he whispers before leaning down to rest his head on the edge of the couch.
you turn to your side to look at him, now wearing a light smile on your face while staring into the warmth of his eyes. “did you have a bad day?” he sighs when hearing you ask that question, but he nods his head and rubs your cheek. “yeah, there was a lot to do today. i’m sorry for lashing out on you, it’s not like me at all, i’m so sorry for making you feel sad. i’m sorry for acting like that.”
yuji closes his eyes when you lean in to kiss his lips. it’s a short but sweet kiss, only filled with love. “it’s okay. maybe it’s a sign for you to take a break from work tomorrow so you can rest, one day wouldn’t hurt,” you mumble and he nods, reflecting your smile with one of his own. “yeah, a day wouldn’t hurt as long as i get to spend it with you.”
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astraystayyh · 1 year
Text
A cat proposal
summary : minho is in love & wants to marry you
pairing : Lee Know x reader, pre-established relationship.
genre : FLUFF
warnings : mention of wanting to have kids together at the end.
the things i would do to have this man.... hope you enjoy reading!! feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments, it will be very appreciated!! <33
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You were lying down on the couch, Minho sprawled on top of you. His head was on your chest, his nose nuzzling your stomach every now and then as if to remind you he was there. And you were playing with the locks of his hair lazily, drawing mindless circles on his back from time to time.
It had been exactly two weeks since Minho moved in with you. You hadn't really had the time to relax, just the both of you. His schedule was hectic and so was yours, as it was nearing the end of the year. You only saw each other when he came home late to you; bringing your body to his and peppering kisses on the soft curve of your shoulder.
But today, he managed to come home early, and so did you. Which led to an impromptu movie night together. Still, you couldn't really focus on the movie, the dialogue coming to you like mindless chatter. You had something to suggest to Minho, and you didn't really know how he would take it.
He must have noticed that you were looking up at the ceiling, since he blew a raspberry on your stomach, prompting startled giggles from you. He smirks, before placing a small kiss on your bare skin, "what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"
"I have something to tell you, just think about it okay? You don't have to reply now."
"Okay, tell me about it," he turns the TV off, giving you his undivided attention. It made you flustered, how he always looked at you like you were the only person that mattered on this earth.
"Well... since you moved in. I thought... why not bring your cats here in the apartment, this way you could see them more often and we could take care of them together," you start off, your rhythm accelerating with each word.
"I mean, I know it will take time for them to get used to a new place, so we could do it gradually? They could stay over for a weekend until they feel comfortable here," you start to ramble. "And you could put their toys and playhouse in the washing machine room since it's nearly empty, and we'd take turns taking care of them and I don't mind feeding them and changing their litter box when you are on tour, and I'd bring them to your parent's house because they might miss them and-"
"Honey, breathe," he chuckles and you stop, gulping. You really forgot how to breathe during your little speech.
After that, it's silent. Minho doesn't say anything, placing his head back on your stomach. Your cheeks are turning a crimson red from embarrassment, you just made a fool out of yourself, didn't you?
Your frantic train of thought is interrupted when Minho picks up your hand and starts kissing your knuckles softly. He doesn't look at you as he places chaste kisses on each of your fingertips; as if his lips meeting your skin was worthy of all his attention.
The truth is, Minho couldn't talk right now. Not because he didn't want to, but because he was afraid if he ever spoke, he wouldn't be able to stop the flow of words yearning to come out.
There are one million words in Korean, yet none of them seemed fit to express his adoration for you. He racked his brain for the right combination of words, because 'I love you' didn't cut it anymore. What he felt was more than love, it was a heart wrenching feeling in the most beautiful way.
Minho knew you loved him too, but it was in moments like this that he was reminded that you actually love him. That you were as infatuated with him as he was with you. That you thought about him just like he thought about you.
Kissing your fingertips, one at a time, he couldn't help but remember a fact he once read; there are twenty three words for love alone in Arabic. Maybe he should learn them, maybe he should learn every expression of love that was ever invented, every love poem that was written throughout history. And then he'd recite them to you, one by one. Maybe then you'd understand how you make him feel.
But he couldn't bring himself to tell you all of this, so instead, he settled on a love language that the both of you understood- touch. As his lips met your knuckles, he hoped that you'd feel it all through his kisses. That you'd know how much love he holds for you.
He finally looks up at you, his eyes holding yours in an intimate gaze. It's a while before he speaks again. "I will marry you one day, you know that right?" he whispers softly, as if it's a secret meant for the two of you alone.
Your breath hitches in your throat at his words, he wanted a forever with you?
"You mean that?" you whisper back, voice hoarse from the emotions you were barely keeping at bay. 
"I do. Would you like that?" he asks in a small voice, as if there was a possibility you'd say no. You almost scoff at that thought; not in this life, not in the next one.
"Of course. I want to spend the rest of my life with you Min," you tell him sincerely, your eyes wide looking into his so he'd know how serious you are.
"I want... I want our cats here," he starts off, knocking the breath out of you, 'our'.
"And I want silly supermarket lists with you, that I wouldn't be able to read because your writing is shit," you both chuckle, his laugh reverberating through your entire body. You always felt it deep inside you when he laughed, as if it was a melody meant for you only to hear.
"And i want to brush my teeth with you. I want to come home and see you with the cats. I want to cook for you and I want to kiss you when I wake up and sleep," he whispers, head now buried into your chest as if he was embrassed to say those words out loud.
"And I want.. I want kids with you, I want a girl running around that looks just like you. And you'd both greet me at the door and I'd die a happy man."
Silent tears are falling out of your eyes right now, 'you'd be a good mother', he once told you. And now, he wanted you to be the mother of his kids. It felt like your heart was in his palm and that he was squeezing it with every word he said. But you didn't mind, you knew that Minho would never squeeze too far to break you. You were safe with him. 
"We’ll have that my love, I promise," you smile, placing a sweet kiss on his head. "But i want a boy that looks like you,"you playfully pout. 
"There could only be one me," he tsks, waving a hand in the air as if to dismiss your words. 
"This is your son we are talking about," you laugh, your hand threading through his hair once again. 
"Our son," he clarifies and you blush. "Yeah.. our", you repeat, a soft smile on your face and he finally looks up at you again. 
You bop his nose with your finger playfully and he grins at the action. "So… does this mean you want the cats to move in?"
"Of course silly. My favorite people in one place, I can't wait."
"Cats are not people," you tease, and he rolls his eyes at your words. 
"Details."
He then stands up, pulling you up with him. His hand gently cradles your jaw and his lips fall perfectly on top of yours; the kiss making stars swirl in front of your eyes. "I love you so much Min," you whisper in between kisses and he smiles, "I love you yn, so much more than you know."
"I know, you know, Lee Know," you joke and he pushes your face away with his finger, "Nevermind, I take my proposal back."
"No can do. You are stuck with me forever," you singsong, pulling him in for a tight hug. 
Forever with you, he really liked the sound of that. 
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inkyray · 26 days
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INKED
MATT STURNIOLO
a/n: this is my first oneshot and i deadass have no idea what im doing, go easy on me. im so used to writing full stories i kind of struggle with stand alone oneshots but yeah, i appreciate constructive criticism
3.6k words
warnings/content ahead: the bitch is getting tattooed yall, smut, p in v, brief fingering, degrading, hair pulling, the plot that leads up to the smut is longer than the smut itself ☠️
You felt the prickly needle press ink in and out of your flesh, it spared small stings that you didn't exactly hate. Nick sat on his living room couch not far away from you, but still far enough to raise his voice a little so you could properly hear him. He had a good bond with the tattoo artist, and she didn't mind coming to his house to ink him up.
Nick sat with his short sleeve rolled above his shoulder, revealing a tattoo he had just got done with. His shoulder is sore and red, covered in a layer of antibiotic ointment and plastic wrap. Earlier today he had invited you over, since he knew how long you've been wanting a tattoo, and you had decided you know what, fuck it. You tagged along. You and Nick are close, he's one of your only best friends in LA, since it isn't really where you're originally from. You two would hang out any chance the other was free.
It often got annoying for his other brothers how much you were around, but they had caught a quick loving for you and found the place empty and weird when you weren't there, considering how much you were with Nick.
The buzzing of the tattoo machine filled the silent void before it was interrupted by a TikTok Nick was watching on full volume, making you two laugh as the tattoo artist held down on your waist to keep you from messing her up. You were getting a tramp stamp tattoo on your lower back, your sweatpants folded right on where your underwear begins.
A few minutes pass of just buzzing, your stinging skin, loud TikToks, and the smell of antiseptic.
"We should make a TikTok." Nick announced after a while. You raise an eyebrow, "Now?" you wondered. Nick nods, taking the throw blanket from off of him and getting up. "I don't know Nick, kind of in the middle of getting a tattoo." You smiled up at him as he got closer. You were laying on your stomach, your body against the black leather chair wrapped in plastic, but your elbows kept the rest of your body that weren't your ribs, up, so you could use your phone.
"Oh please, you look hot as hell right now." He stood, chuckling. You rolled your eyes. "Nick. I'm in sweatpants and a tank." Nick looked at you from his phone, tapping a few things on there which you assumed had to do with TikTok. He quite literally sighed. "You are so unaware of yourself, girl."
You shrugged and blew him a kiss. "So TikTok or nah? I want to do, like a transition of our tattoos and us lip syncing to some shit song from the 2010's. I already made a draft of myself doing it before I got this bad boy." He points to his new splotchy tattoo of the bat on his shoulder. "Yeah, guess so. You're gonna have to film me in the midst of getting my tattoo, though. I didn't exactly record myself before this."
With the press of a time skip button, you guys filmed the TikTok, posted it, and Nick declared he was tired, going for a nap to his room. This wasn't out of the ordinary for him to be asleep with you here, you'd do it all the time when he was at your place, and either one of you guys eventually followed in the others footsteps, finishing whatever you were doing and going to lay beside them to sleep too.
The front door of the house opened, and you already knew it was Matt and Chris. They were running errands for their manager and Nick had decided to stay behind with you, since you were planning on getting tattoos together. Footsteps creep into the place and you wait for their reaction. They didn't exactly know you were also getting one, and they knew about your commitment issues with tattoos, so this was kind of a big deal.
Chris walks in first and doesn't even turn to look at you, assuming you were Nick getting tattooed. "You're still getting inked? How big is your bat supposed to be, Nick." He grabs a Pepsi from the fridge and pops it open. "Pretty big." You answered, your head resting on your palm as he turned to look at you, Matt following closely behind.
"Oh, shit."  Chris gulps down the Pepsi, walking over to you as he inspects the tattoo on your lower back. "How does it look?" You question as you see Matt stop in his tracks and come closer to get a better look at it. "Fucking sexy. Good job." He holds out his fist and you bump it, smiling at the comment.
You feel Matt's gaze linger too long on your skin as Chris goes back into the kitchen, making another comment about the tattoo you didn't quite catch. The stinging on your back now feels ice cold. "What do you think, Matt?" You wonder, turning your head slightly to look at him.
"Bold. For someone like you." He mutters, walking over to the kitchen to grab a root beer, maneuvering around Chris since he's constantly in his way. You scoff. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Is Nick sleeping?" Chris asks, you nod, he quickly goes looking for him.
"What I mean is that it's a tattoo decision I would've never thought you'd pick." Matt says, looking at you from the kitchen as he sips from his drink. This could mean so many things and you found yourself getting confused. What? "Matt, I'm gonna need you to elaborate."
It wasn't a secret that you were the least closest with Matt. Everytime you'd try to do the things you'd do with Nick but with him, there'd be some sort of thick invisible fog in the air, making you hyper-aware of everything you're doing and saying. Your chest always felt too heavy around Matt and the tension it weighed on you was too much. It wasn't normal, and you were sure Matt could feel it too. You knew a lot of stuff about him, and he knew a lot about you, but there was something between you two keeping you from taking the extra step of declaring you guys close.
He lets his eye's dart everywhere in thought, putting together how he's going to explain it to you. "Mmmm," he mumbles, "...no." He decides as he begins to leave the room, stopping in his tracks before he fully leaves, peeking his head around the corner. "You look good though, what Chris said." And he leaves.
You are beyond confused, you turn your head toward the tattoo artist, who was sharing the same look on her face. She spared you a shrug.
-
It's been a few weeks and your tattoo is fully healed, you loved the way you felt with it. The urge to get a million more tattoos on you was strong, but you held back.
On the other hand, being around Matt had begun getting more unbearable by the day. When you two were left alone, there was nothing to talk about. You would shift uncomfortably and he would bring out his phone as a distraction, doing nothing significant on it other than switch between apps. You were too aware of the other and the air around you would increasingly thicken. You were sure if you tried, you could slice through it with a knife.
Right now, was one of those times. Matt in the driver's seat and you were in the middle back seat, Chris and Nick had gone inside a store to grab a few stuff.
You watched his fingers tap the steering wheel, his thumb patiently rubbing against it, studying the fact they were slender and long, trained by veins that went down his hands. They looked so perfect under the gleaming hour of the sun. His nails weren't painted, so his short nails naturally colored themselves pink with a small white hill on his thumb. You let your imagination run free. Touching the dip of your waist or massaging the inside of your thigh. His fingers curving themselves inside you…
His eyes darted at the rear mirror, catching you focused on his hands. It took you a second too long to realize that. You looked up at the mirror and found his blue eyes fixated on you, dark hair sitting across his forehead and strands messily on his eyes. Your heart gave you a loud thump and a punch in the face of flushing blood. You didn't look away from his eyes, but you could still see his thumb grazing against the steering wheel.
Your brain was empty of words. You had no idea what to say and you were sure neither did he, until he began to speak. "What ever happened to that tattoo?" He asked, still looking at you from the mirror. You furrowed your eyebrows. It takes you a second until you realize he was talking about the tramp stamp you have. "It ran away." You answered blankly, because what kind of question was that supposed to be.
Matt sighed, looking out of the window, you watched him look outside as you calculated the messy hair that didn't seem too bad to pull on. "I mean, it never made an appearance again. No one ever saw it ever since you got it." He said. A small smile forms onto your mouth. "Some people have seen it." You mutter lightly, not bothering to look away from him as he goes back looking at you.
"Is that so?" He wasn't smiling, his face was processing a look of annoyance. You wink.
The car doors are pulled open and in one sudden movement, Chris comes in with a laugh and sits next to you, Nick follows closely behind, chuckling in that deep-voiced way he does after he made a joke he was proud of, and seating himself in the passenger seat. "Why are you sitting here?" Matt questions, not bothering to ask what they're laughing at. Chris takes out a Mento and offers you one, you reluctantly take it and let it sit in your mouth, wanting to suck the flavor out before you chew it.
Nick laughs even harder. "Oh, I didn't even realize I was sitting here. Chris, and you just let me?" Chris cackles, "It doesn't matter Nick, it's just the passenger seat." He puts an arm around you. "Plus I wanted to sit with her." He tells you specifically, looking at you as he begins to chew the Mento. "How I am honored." You sarcastically put a hand to your heart, not once taking your eyes off Matt. He was expressionless and began driving.
The conversation held on and turned into a different topic, you would make sly remarks here and there but for you, the entire ride home was hard. Matt would catch you staring at him, and when he had to turn the car back with his hand behind Nick's headrest, he would look at you longer than the road behind him. He didn't look really… pleased. Which had you amused.
He was upset that he wasn't one of the people who got to see your tattoo finished and healed, and you were catching onto that. The longer they'd drive, the more stern his expression would shift. He got progressively more and more irritated throughout the ride.
They make it home and Matt doesn't even give you a glance, he immediately heads to his bedroom and makes it known by his silence he'd like to be left alone. Okay, drama queen. You thought.
You had to go see what was up, it was just in you. After the conversation you two barely had and the eye content you held, which you were pretty sure was a hallucination you pulled out of your ass, you were curious to see just how riled up he was. Or you could get him.
Chris and Nick get a call from their manager saying she's outside, picking them up so she could explain to Nick something that had to do with their merch. Apparently she already spoke about it to Matt, so it'd just be Chris and Nick going to their studio warehouse to see, since that's where all their merch first goes.When they leave, your thought process changes in a matter of seconds. Seeing how upset he is, you want to see how hard you could push his buttons.
You approach his room and knock 3 times. No answer is received, you raise your fist to knock a second time, and by the first knock the door is pulled half open, revealing Matt looking down at you, expecting you. "What?" He asks, his eyelids drooping as he looks at you blankly. He changed into gray sweatpants and a black T-shirt.
"Can I come lay down next to you? I barely got any sleep last night." You lightly fluttered your lashes at him, holding your phone with both your hands. Matt stares at you, inspecting just how tired you looked. You looked fine, but he still opened the door wide enough for you to enter, not saying anything.
You lay on his silk bed sheets. Silk. What a slut. He sits in front of his computer, and boots open a game, not bothering to acknowledge you here. You don't like that. After leaving yourself alone with your thoughts for a while today, the least thing you wanted was to be ignored. Especially by him. Even if it meant annoying him, you just wanted to have some sort of contact with him. Either verbally or physically, you don't mind a single bit.
You clear your throat. "Thanks, Matty." He grimaces at the nickname, used to hearing his family say to him, but not from you. "My legs have been hurting all day." You say, cuddling into his pillows, stretching hard enough to arch your back. A real yawn escapes your lips.
"You don't work out, don't play that dumb shit with me." He says, turning his head to look at you for a moment, before turning back to look at his monitor. "Who said anything about working out?" You tell him. He stops, completely forgetting what he was supposed to be looking at.
"I don't know, I guess my tattoo really does magical wonders for me." A smile slips through your lips as you turn the other direction, your back facing him as your shirt exposes the tattoo, your pants hanging dangerously low on your hips.
You can't see him, but you hear him turn, and you feel yourself getting excited. "Why'd you get it?" He asks and you turn your head softly to look at him. His question was simple, but the expression on his face certainly wasn't. "Why does anybody really get a tramp stamp, Matty?" You respond to his question with another one, and he is giving you a look of impatience.
"Just fucking answer me right now, sweetheart." His voice isn't loud, but his anger is. He practically huffs and you feel yourself getting immensely more attracted to his aggressiveness. You turn your head back to the other side, leaving him unanswered as he burns holes in the back of hair, knowing that would tick him off.
You hear shuffling and then the bed dips, and your heart literally does skip a beat. You swallow your built up spit down your throat as Matt grasps your jaw and makes you look at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones immediately. "Don't look away from me, y/n. Why'd you get that fucking tattoo?" He held your jaw firmly. He was on the bed rooted on his knees, looking down at you as you laid on his pillows.
Your smile somehow got wider, flashing him your white teeth as you slowly parted them to answer. "So you could fuck me." Your eyes were staring intensely at him but in a lazy manner.
Matt's eyes narrowed, darting between your eyes and your mouth. "You fucking whore." He muttered, his lips pressing onto yours so much faster than you could say the word 'whore' itself. Your eyes screwed itself shut and took the opportunity as fast as you could, kissing him back harsher.
He let go of the kiss too quickly, which only frustrated you. "You got that tattooed for me, baby?" He wonders, his voice is hoarse and breathy. You nod so fast your hold almost fell off, and as embarrassing as it was, it was true.
You had only 1 body since before the tattoo, and you barely even counted it. Constantly being around Matt but not knowing how to go about it made you more desperate. He did something to you no one had ever done. Sometimes you would feel yourself pulsing for him, imagining your fingers as his.
The reason why you had even begun considering a tramp stamp is because of the sick fantasies that they held, using Matt as its lead.
Recently you got laid, and it was underwhelming and disappointing. Your legs actually hurted because you did a few squats the day prior, not because the sex was good.
"You fucking liar." He was smiling but nothing in his tone was friendly, his eyebrows were furrowed but his grin was undeniable. You licked his mouth and he pressed against your lips. "I wouldn't lie to you, Matty." You moan into the kiss, feeling his hand trail down your body and to your waist. A hand was on the dip of your waist and the other was holding your jaw secure.
Your heart was quite literally out of its body now, his soft hand trailing to feel your bare skin under your shirt, grazing just the hill of your bare chest, purposely not touching your nipples. In a sudden movement, he cups your breast and your whimper is muffled under the kiss.
He has his knees caging both sides of your thigh, pressing his knee into you. He smirks as you gasp.  "Lift your hips for me?" He pulls away, a small string of saliva connecting you two. You look straight at his eyes as you lift them, making sure he holds eye contact. And he does. He does as he curls his fingers along the strap of your pants and shoves them off.
"Let me see it." He orders. You grin, raising an eyebrow. "That could go for a lot of stuff." He grabs the side of your underwear and lets go of it, having it snap against your skin. "The tattoo. I want to see it." His voice is more demanding, more gruffly. Your pussy was soaked.
"No." You tell him all with a sly smile, you liked him aggressive and didn't mind seeing how far he'd go. In a sudden movement, you are flipped to your stomach, your hair is being gripped by his hand, pulling your head up as you feel his fingers tracing your tattoo. His fingers were too light. Too soft on your skin, you felt your back arch as he decided to balance the softness with a harsh slap on your ass.
Some hair was loose, out of his grip, resting on your back. The rest are being pulled closer to him, you feel his hot breath whisper in your ear. "You slut." A smirk spreads on your face, biting your bottom lip close enough to leave it bleeding. "You talk a lot." You tell him. He forces your shirt from off of you, leaving you just in your black lace panties.
You're still on your stomach, your bare chest pressing against his silk sheets. Your underwear is slipped off of you. Two fingers found their way to your pussy, sensitivity rubbing against it, your back arching your ass into his hard dick. "Fuck me already, Matt." You moan, knowing he's only touching you to get you overstimulated. He ignores what you're saying, responding to what's going on in his mind. "You look so beautiful. Bending yourself for me on my bed, begging for my cock."
His fingers rub against your folds, flipping your stomach inside out, pressing against your clit and your moan comes out louder than intended. "So wet for me." He licks his lips. Just as you were about to push yourself against his fingers, he let go abruptly. A huff leaves your lips and you whine. "Sorry, baby, you need something?" He mocks. You give him a noise of annoyance in response.
He grabs your ass hard, and to your surprise, you feel his tip at your entrance. You immediately clench around it and you hear him moan. He shoves himself inside of you and you practically scream, your whimpering gets louder each thrust he makes in and out of you. "You feel that, slut? Is this what you wanted?" He groans, not bothering to stop. You answer by pushing yourself onto him, fucking yourself to him.
You pushed your lips into your mouth, loving the sound of his moans and whimpers. Your head was pressed against his pillow, and he went faster, tears started prickling your eyes, shutting them. Your noises were getting more intense and a knot began forming in your stomach.
"I'm.. oh fuck–" Before you could even finish what you were saying, you release. Matt slows down, every push in is longer and slippery with your liquid, your pussy tightens around him and he mutters a quick "fuck" and pulls out, cumming all over you.
You turn to look at him. He looked back at you. There were many times you thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world, but now, seeing your hair a mess and its baby hairs sticking to your forehead, your lips sore and red from his aggressive kisses bare on his bed, he thought he was looking at a goddess. You glare at him, noticing he's been staring at a few seconds too long. "What?"
"I think I might need to see that tattoo one more time."
-
(idk how a tags list works)
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mmelionsblog · 2 months
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best of wives and best of women \\ alastor //
A/N: reader is an owl in the after life !
your eyes slowly opened, the darkness of the hotel room met with you, with the hint of red shading into the shared bedroom of yours and alastor’s room from the bay window. you yawned, facing away from the window to be met with yet another empty space on another day. you frowned, your hand tracing from up the pillow and down onto the bed.
your ears perked up though, with the best hearing you could thank for, you knew where alastor was. your eyes twitched with annoyance, grumbling ‘of course, the man i marry is a workaholic’. you slipped on your red soft slippers, grabbing the matching robe alastor bought you a couple months back.
covering yourself, you opened your door and closed it quietly knowing your other friends were still dead asleep (no pun intended). you clicked on the golden button going up, what was so cool about it was that you and alastor were the only ones who can access this elevator only thanks to lucifer’s magical talents.
you yawned, looking up at the mirror glass ceiling. your hair was such a mess, but overall you were a whole mess. alastor’s seen you in worse, so you didn’t care whatsoever if he was in a mood or not. the doors opened, and you walked your way to your husband’s office room, on top the sign red ON AIR. you sighed, sitting on the made bench alastor put out for you.
it was 5:35 in the morning, as you sat. you cracked your neck as you waited patiently for your sweet dear husband to finish up. another thirty minutes went by, and this time you had a cup of coffee from the vending machine from across the hallway.
“dearie,” the brown door creaked open, and there stood your husband. your red eyes burned into his, “alastor. i ASKED you to stay in this morning, come on you can’t do that simple request for me?” you whined, placing your can down and walking towards him. he finally closed his office, locking it as he placed the key into his pocket. “i know, but i couldn’t sleep and so i just decided to plan out all of today’s radio’s top hit.”
you shook your head, “what time is it before the hotel all wakes up?” you asked him. “6:10 my dear, why are you asking?” you smiled up at him, “we’re going back to sleep.” you grabbed him by his hand, ran into the golden elevator and pressed your level where your room was.
“and where is this all coming from?” your husband’s voice echoed through your body as you leaned onto him. “i was moody this morning, didn’t see my lovely husband right next to me. you wouldn’t like that if i did it to you now, would you?” you looked up to meet his own red eyes.
alastor shook his head. “no dearie i wouldn’t,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. the elevator dinged, opening the doors. the two of you walked out only to see husker waiting at your door. alastor’s smile twitched, but remained calm and placed you behind him. “husk, to what do we owe you at such hour?” alastor asked.
husker bit his lip in fear, “charlie just wanted to tell you breakfast was ready, she wanted everyone to be up at this hour due to an activity she had in mind.” you whined loudly, slamming your head into your husband’s back. “tell charlie, my dear and i have plans today. if it is a so called emergency i’ll be there, but to leave us alone.”
your eyes brightened at the thought of having alastor all to yourself. you hadn’t been alone with him since the two of you walked in, in the day at least. “oh mon amour,” you tried to walk in front of him, but since husker was still there, alastor wasn’t going to let any other person other than yourself and family (if you ever to see them) see you in such a state. “i suggest you leave.” he growled out to husker, husker nodded and bid a fair well to you and your loving al.
giggling, you finally emerge into his eyesight. “my love, where you jealous just now?” your hands wrapped around his waist as you stood on your tippy toes, your face inches away from his. “i don’t know what you mean by that.” you giggled, as alastor opened the door to your shared room.
you hopped into your bed after hanging your robe and putting your slippers away, waiting patiently for your lover. he came in with the matching set he also got for himself. you gigged at the sight, the only women on earth and in hell that could see him in such a state. “i am the luckiest woman in hell,” you breathed out.
alastor climbed into the bed, his hand pressed up onto your cheek caressing it lightly. “best of wives and best of women,” he whispered, kissing you softly.
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allywthsr · 5 months
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Christmas shopping | (l.norris)
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summary: you and Lando go Christmas shopping
wordcount: 1.1k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: spending a lot of money
notes: tell me your thoughts!!
advent calendar
”Lando, come on, you’re so slow.“
You were Christmas presents shopping with your boyfriend, Lando.
Due to you both living in Monaco, you were currently roaming around shops like Louis Vuitton or Dior. It was harder to get presents than you thought. The cold air was slapping against your skin, whenever you were walking from store to store.
Today were Lando’s parents, his siblings, his sister-in-law, his nieces, and your family on the agenda. Obviously, you weren’t going to get Mila and Athena something from the expensive stores, for that you wanted to drive to Nice and see if you could find something, as well as for the others if you didn’t find anything here.
Lando’s sister Cis and you talked over the phone yesterday and she told you that she wanted this Louis Vuitton scarf for a while, but it was too expensive for her to buy it on her own, so you called Oliver this morning and asked if they would be down to pay for the rest, that Lando and you wouldn’t cover. He gladly agreed and now you were looking through the different kinds of scarfs there were.
”Do you think she‘d want a rose or a beige-colored one?“
”I would choose a beige one, fits better with the rest of the clothes.“
You nodded and called for an employee, to help you. Quickly you had bought the beige one, Lando and you agreed to cover four hundred pounds and the rest four hundred pounds would pay Oliver and Savannah.
On your way out you looked at the different bags, you slowed down and tugged on Lando’s hand.
”Look at that one!“
”Y/N, we’re not here for you.“
”But they’re beautiful.“
Before you could say another word, he dragged you out of the Louis Vuitton, too scared you would feed your handbag addiction. ”Flo talked about this necklace, it’s like silver with a horseshoe pendant.“
”Where do we get that?“
”Tiffany & co?“
With intertwined hands, you made your way to the next store, Tiffany. Immediately someone came up and offered you a champagne, but you declined and went to an employee, wanting to see all the different necklaces. Different colors, silver, gold, or rose gold were shown to you, but in the end, you decided to go with silver, like Flo wanted. The necklace cost two-hundred pounds, but Lando held his credit card against the machine, and it didn’t hurt him one bit. He earned enough money to spend a bit more on Christmas.
Again, Lando had to drag you out, because he knew how you loved looking at (and buying) jewelry.
”What are thinking for your parents?“
”I have absolutely no clue, they have everything they need and if they’re missing something, they buy it. Do you have an idea baby?“
”Not really, maybe like a small trip to Monaco? And we can rent a boat for the whole family for a day or something?“
”I like the idea, mum always likes quality time more than material things, we should invite your parents and the rest of your family as well, then we have a present for them too.“
”Uh yes, I like that.“
He grabbed your hand and put it in his pocket, you’re always cold, he knew that.
His parents and yours were checked off that list, now for Oliver and Savannah. Savannah was a simple girl, she was happy if you would give her a bouquet of flowers, but you weren’t going to do that. Oliver was more difficult, sure he would be happy over something small too, but he had everything he needed.
”What about a spa day for Savannah? I would sacrifice myself and go with her.“
”And of what do you need to relax from? I get Sav needing some time off from being a mum, but you?“
”I need time off from being your girlfriend?“
He looked at you, with a shocked look on his face, but he knew you were joking.
”I‘m kidding, I‘m kidding.“
You put one of your hands on his cheek and pressed your lips against his, for a quick kiss, but Lando being Lando, he tried to deepen it, holding your head with his hand. You tried to wiggle out his grip, ”Baby, we’re in public“, you knew Lando didn’t really care, he wanted to be a normal boy that had a girlfriend, and that’s how he sometimes acted.
With a groan, he let go of you, and pulled you to the next store.
”Alright, Sav gets a spa day and for my brother, I thought I‘d get him a bracelet and one of my helmets.“
”Your helmet?“
”Yes, he always says how he wants to have my podium helmets because they’re beautiful.“
”But then, what do I gift him?“
”We can share the bracelet.“
You hummed and looked around in the different jewelry store, Lando had pulled you in. After looking at a few, you decided to go for a brown one with silver details.
”We only have the kids and the dogs left.“
”The dogs? Are you serious, Y/N?“
”Of course! They can’t get nothing.“
Lando only shook his head with a smile and kissed your cheek.
”Should we go to Nice? The toy store is supposed to be beautiful there.“
”Sure, let’s go.“
You two sat in his car and Lando drove you to Nice, he parked the car safely on the parking spots and you two went inside. You tightly held Lando’s hand, or else he would’ve been in the car section already, swooning over the different cars. He was a little boy at heart.
”Mila likes dolls nowadays, should we get her one?“
”Yes baby, I talked to Sav about it and they got her this specific one, so I know what to buy“, with that you pulled him to the dolls.
With a scan, you looked at all the different girls and found one with a dog, it had a leash and everything.
”Lando, please. It has a little dog!“, the pout on your face was big and Lando could just laugh at you.
Quickly he grabbed it and put it in the basket, now you two only had to get something for Athena, she was still a baby, so it wasn’t that hard. You got a toy, that played different music and would light up when you pressed different buttons, she would love it. Next to the toy store, was a small pet store, you couldn’t resist buying a toy for each dog, they needed to get presents too.
When you returned to your shared flat, in the evening, you looked at all the different bags. You love shopping for Christmas presents, no matter how stressful it is.
618 notes · View notes
magiccath · 5 months
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5 times the Doctor loved you, and one time he actually did something about it
tenth doctor x GN!reader
Summary: as it says on the tin!
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1.
The Doctor slammed the door behind you, the booming footsteps of the Cybermen closing in. 
“What’s the plan?” You asked, slightly breathless from running. 
The Doctor didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have a plan. He couldn’t think of a single way out of this situation. 
He had told you traveling with him was dangerous, but you always insisted on coming. The only thing he could do was promise to keep you safe. To keep you alive, no matter the cost. 
As the footsteps neared, he began to fear he couldn’t keep his promise. 
“Doctor?”
He hoped his eyes didn’t show the panic he was feeling inside. 
“Do we have a plan?”
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. A small part of him hoped it might shut everything out. 
The Cybermen neared your hideout, their metal fists banging on the wooden doors. Between the thick wood and the metal lock, the two of you had minutes at best. 
“The Cybermen are all connected through a network, correct?”
The Doctor opened his eyes, looking at you in confusion. 
“And if I can get into that network…” you scanned the room quickly, your eyes instantly settling on a computer. 
“It’ll be practically impossible,” the Doctor argued.
“They could have it under lock and key, and there would still be a way to break into it.” You smiled. “You just have to know what you’re doing.”
The Doctor watched in awe as your fingers danced across the keyboard, typing endless strings of characters that he couldn’t understand. 
“See, I already hacked into the database,” you leaned closer to the computer, absentmindedly chewing on your bottom lip. The Doctor tried not to let his eyes linger on your lips too much. 
“I just need to hack into the executive level.” You turned to look at the Doctor. 
He couldn’t think what you would need him for. You knew how computers worked, he didn’t really. 
Silently, you held out your hand. 
Confused, the Doctor took it. He wasn’t complaining. Your hands were soft and warm. He’d make any excuse to hold them. 
You laughed, the sound like music to his ears.
“No, silly.”
The Doctor blushed, but he didn’t remove his hand from yours. 
“I need the sonic,” you explained. 
Embarrassed, he slid the object into your hands. 
You handled the sonic with expertise. The Doctor didn’t think you had been listening all of those times he rambled on about the machine. 
Sure enough, you flicked to the correct settings in a matter of seconds. Using it appeared to be second nature to you. 
“Done!” You clapped your hands excitedly. Sure enough, the commotion outside the door halted, silence settling between the two of you. 
The Doctor’s eyes darted between the door and you, trying to process what had just happened. 
Once he did, he wasted no time scooping you into his arms. 
You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck happily. 
The Doctor was practically buzzing with joy. He swung you gently from side to side as he hugged you, your feet dangling from the ground.
He didn’t want to let you go. 
“Brilliant!” He grinned, “You’re brilliant!” 
He pulled back slightly, planting a firm kiss on your forehead. 
In the end, you didn’t need him to save you. You could more than do that yourself. 
2. 
The Doctor was plagued with thoughts. Endless, troublesome thoughts swirled about his head. 
Almost nothing was certain. Except for one truth the Doctor held close to his heart. At the end of the day, it was just him. 
The last of the Time Lords. Floating through time and space, alone. 
Always alone. 
In his head, it was only a matter of time before you left. No one ever really stayed. Be it sickness, life, love, or fear, his companions always left him. 
He raked his hands across his face, hoping the action could silence the incessant chatter in his head. 
Truthfully, he didn’t have the strength to fight it off today. Why even bother? 
You bounded into the control room, a smile plastered across your face. You had a way of bringing light into any room. Most days, it was impossible for the Doctor to be upset in your presence. Today it was just too much for the alien to handle on his own. 
He tried to hide his hurt, plastering a sad smile on his own face. 
“What’s wrong?” You asked, catching on instantly. 
“I’m fine,” he lied. 
You frowned, not falling for his lie. 
His hands clutched the console, his knuckles white from the force. Gently, you ghosted your fingers across his hand. Convinced he wasn’t going to run away, you placed your hands over his. Almost instantly they eased up, suddenly aware of the force in which he was clutching the console. 
“What’s going on up there?” you asked, your gentle hands moving to cup his face. You gave his head a light wiggle, the action causing the corners of the Doctor’s mouth to curve upwards. 
“How long are you going to stay with me?” He whispered, almost too scared to say the words aloud. 
You furrowed your brows, not out of anger, but rather confusion. 
“I’m not going anywhere.” You smiled, your thumbs rubbing circles against his cheeks softly. 
The Doctor didn’t really believe you. They never wanted to leave, until they did. Perhaps you were happy at the moment, but that wasn’t going to last. 
He forced himself to pull away from your grip. The sooner he let you go, the less it was going to hurt. At least, that’s what he told himself. 
“Doctor?” 
You grabbed the sleeve of his coat, tugging lightly. The Doctor closed his eyes, trying to demonstrate some level of self-restraint. You weren’t making it easy. 
Without warning, you wrapped your arms firmly around the man. Your grip was unwavering, your hands clutching at his clothes desperately. 
The Doctor was taken aback at first, unsure what to do. Eventually, he relaxed into the hug. Giving in, he allowed his arms to wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. If he had it his way, he would stay like this forever. 
“I don’t ever want to leave,” you gasped, your breath hot against his neck. You buried your face in his shoulder, attempting to get as close as possible. 
For a second, the Doctor allowed himself to think that you might feel even a fraction of the way he felt about you. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you beamed, pulling back to look at the Doctor. 
Your eyes were mesmerizing up close. Their color glistened in the TARDIS light, and he found it impossible to look away. 
“You can’t get rid of me that easy, Spaceman,” you laughed. 
3.
“The name’s Captain Jack Harkness,” The dashing man in front of you smiled, holding out his hand confidently. 
You took it warily, exchanging your own name awkwardly. You didn’t exactly share the Captain’s confidence. His smile clearly had you flabbergasted, a scarlet flush creeping onto your cheeks.
He flashed you an overly cocky grin, his hold on your hand unwavering. 
“Stop it,” the Doctor growled from behind you. 
“I’m just saying hello,” Jack said innocently, practically batting his eyelashes.
“It’s never just hello with you,” the Doctor continued groaning. He was used to Jack’s antics, the man flirted with anything that moved. He usually had no issue with it. That was, until the flirting was directed at you. 
“I don’t mind,” you grinned, looking up at the Captain sheepishly. You seemed to get lost in his eyes. From the Doctor’s point of view, you practically had heart eyes bursting from your head. 
Jack smiled back, charming as ever. His eyes traveled across your face, taking in each and every feature. 
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. 
You let out a nervous giggle, clearly taken aback by the compliment. Had the Doctor never called you that before? He was almost certain he had. You had never reacted that way when he did.
“T-thank you,” you stammered. It was clear to just about anyone that you were interested in the Captain. Between the way you looked at him and the bright red of your face, you were practically screaming it. 
It drove the Doctor crazy. He couldn’t express how badly he wanted you to look at him like that. Yet here you were, ogling over none other than Captain Jack Harkness. 
“Do you want to grab coffee?” Jack asked, his words pulling the Doctor from his thoughts. 
The Doctor had to suppress a scoff. Of course, the captain was asking you out at a time like this. The world could be crumbling and he would shag the nearest complying individual. 
The Doctor didn’t want to think about you and Jack together. In fact, he didn’t like to think about you with anyone but him. Maybe it was selfish, but a small part of him wanted you all to himself. 
He didn’t stick around to hear your answer. It would only break his heart more to hear you say yes. 
Unfortunately, the Doctor didn’t know that you never said yes to the Captain. If he had stuck around, he would have found that out. 
4. 
Rage. 
That was the only thing coursing through the Doctor’s mind as he pointed the gun at the woman in front of him. Pure, unbridled rage. 
His hands shook as he cocked the gun, fully preparing himself to pull the trigger. He could do it. He had every means to take the woman’s life. 
“Doctor?” 
He didn’t need to move his gaze to know you were by his side. He could feel the gentle pull of your fingers on his coat. 
“Go back to the TARDIS,” he growled. 
“Doctor,” you repeated, hurt riddling your voice. 
He couldn’t bring himself to lower the gun, but at the same time, he couldn’t fire it either. 
The woman before him was an awful person. She had killed hundreds and didn't even feel a shred of remorse. Even further, he had killed your friend. He should kill her. You should want him to. But you didn't. 
“Doctor.” Your hand crept towards his. 
He shook his head. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. But instead, he just stood there. 
“She doesn't deserve this,” you pleaded, your hand closing around his own. 
“Yes she does,” he said, shakily. He wasn’t sure if he fully believed himself. 
“If you kill her, are you any better than her?” You asked, guiding the hand holding the gun away from the woman. 
The Doctor didn’t stop you, but he didn’t agree either. His eyes remained trained on the woman at his feet. 
You eased the gun from his hand and disarmed it before throwing it across the room. 
You took his face in your hands gently, pulling his gaze towards you. 
“You are better than this,” you reminded him. 
The Doctor was fighting back tears. It was all he could do to shake his head no. 
“Yes, you are,” you reiterated, resting your forehead against his. 
5. 
The TARDIS was cold. Realistically, it was the Doctor’s fault for breaking the heater. In his defense, he didn’t intend to. 
It wasn’t an issue for the Time Lord, temperature wasn’t really an issue for him. He could wear a suit in the desert or shorts in the winter, it didn’t really matter. 
You, however, were obviously cold. 
“Are you going to fix the heating?” you asked, clutching your arms for warmth. 
It wasn’t that he wanted you to suffer. Quite the contrary. He couldn’t figure out how to fix the heater. He just didn’t want to admit it. 
“If you go up the stairs and to the left, you’ll find yourself in the TARDIS closet,” he explained. 
“I hardly think an 18th-century dress that smells of mothballs is going to fix the heating.” 
The Doctor chuckled. 
“No, but there are sweaters and other normal clothes in there.”
While you went searching for something warm, the Doctor continued his banging under the TARDIS console. It shouldn’t be this hard to figure out. 
He sat cross-legged on the floor, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He ducked his head downwards so he could read the book that lay open on the floor. 
“How to fix your spaceship at home!” wasn’t much help at the moment. He slammed the book shut and resumed his pointless banging. He was probably doing more harm than good, but he figured if he hit enough stuff the ship would fix itself. 
The TARDIS groaned in protest. 
“I think this will work,” you interrupted, walking back into the control room. 
You were rolling the sleeves of a green sweater up so you could use your hands. 
His green sweater. 
“It doesn’t smell like mothballs!” You jested. 
The Doctor turned his gaze away from you, hoping you wouldn’t notice the bright red color creeping into his cheeks. 
“It actually smells a bit like leather and sweets,” you continued, smelling the sleeve.
“That used to be mine.” 
“Yours?” You asked, almost as if you were shocked. 
“Well, it didn’t belong to this face,” he shrugged. 
“But it was yours.” 
“Yeah.” The red was taking over his face now. There was no way you hadn’t noticed. 
“You can have it back,” you said, interpreting his silence for displeasure. 
“No! I don’t wear stuff like that anymore. You can have it,” he rambled, scratching the back of his head anxiously. He wanted to say so many other things. How you looked infinitely better in it than he ever did and how happy it made him to see you in his sweater. 
“Thank you!” you grinned before bounding back down the hallway. 
The Doctor smiled to himself. He’d completely forgotten about the heating. All he could think about was how much he liked you in his clothes. 
The one time he did something about it.
You threw the doors of the TARDIS open, rushing into the open field. 
“It’s beautiful!” You laughed as you danced through the tall sapphire grass. You stopped to examine every strange and new plant littered throughout the meadow, encountering each with a new kind of enthusiasm.
The biome in front of him could be the most magnificent thing ever, and he would still be looking at you. Especially when you were this happy. 
You bounced around the meadow, picking up flowers you liked as the Doctor followed behind you. 
You rambled on about your day happily as you moved about. You were more than content to just be in the Doctor’s company without an imminent threat looming over you. 
He stopped your ramblings suddenly with an utterance of your name. 
“Yes?” You asked, wide-eyed. 
“I love you,” he whispered. He couldn’t hold it in anymore.
Wide-eyed, you blinked at him. 
“Please say something,” he said, pained.
You remained silent, still processing the Time Lord’s words. 
The Doctor began to panic. Thoughts tumbled about his head, doubt seeping into his mind. 
Then, without warning, you dropped your flowers and threw yourself into the Doctor’s arms. 
He fell over from the force, landing in the cushion of the plush foliage. 
“I’m sorry,” you laughed, a grin taking over your face. 
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
The Doctor brushed a stay strand of hair from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear. Color flushed into your cheeks from the simple action.
His eyes darted between your eyes and your mouth, silently asking permission to kiss him. You nodded your head lightly, inviting him to do so. 
Slowly, he brought his lips to yours. You smiled against his kiss, relishing in the warmth. 
When he pulled away, you pulled him back. Plastering a series of kisses against his mouth, you demanded his attention. 
This made the Doctor laugh, his arms snaking comfortably around your waist, truly securing you against himself. 
You drifted from his lips to his cheek, planting one final kiss there. 
“You love me!” you laughed, poking him playfully. 
“I do,” He laughed, resting his hand against your cheek.  You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in tranquility. 
“I love you too,” you whispered against his palm, your breath warm on his hand. 
Truthfully, that was all the Doctor could have ever asked for.
613 notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 29 days
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The Eye of the Hurricane [14] - Wedding
A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️
Summary: A wedding can be a good place for clarity.  
Word Count: 3400
Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.
Series Masterlist
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Well, this was going to be fun.
The wedding was tonight and your phone already had way too many text notifications. You would be meeting Becca and Sarah today to get ready, so you had woken up way too early just like Bucky. After taking a quick shower, you made your way downstairs to see him in the kitchen, making coffee.
“Morning.”
Bucky's head snapped up and he turned around to look at you better.
“Whoa,” he said, “This is a surprise."
You pulled your brows together.
“Um, we've been staying in the same honeymoon suite for a while now, in case it has escaped your notice.”
“No no, as in— am I allowed to see you?”
You blinked a couple of times. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean—” he said, motioning between you. “Isn’t it bad luck? If I see you before the wedding?”
You shrugged your shoulders, then jumped to sit on the kitchen island.
“We’re going to get a divorce anyway,” you said. “That whole tradition is for actual couples, not us.”
Bucky pursed his lips and cleared his throat before holding up a mug.
“Coffee, my romantic wife?”
“Stop calling me that, and yes.”
He chuckled, filling the mug with coffee before handing it to you.
“There you go.”
“Thanks,” you said. “So, we’re getting married then.”
“Mm hm.”
“So I’ve been thinking,” you said. “There’ll be a lot of important guests there as well as alcohol. A good way to start alliances.”
“You’re going to use our wedding to make business deals?”
“You’re not?” you asked back and he thought for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders.
“Yeah I see what you mean.”
“And I need to talk to Stark tonight.”
Bucky grimaced.
“I did that earlier this week,” he said. “Would not recommend, it’s not a nice experience.”
You stifled a laugh.
“Well, we need him,” you said. “As much as I hate to admit.”
“I mean—” he started but was cut off when someone pounded on the door, making both of you turn your heads before Becca’s voice reached inside.
“You’d better not be seeing each other right now!”
Bucky threw his head back and you made your way to the door to open the door, smiling already. When you opened it, you found Becca and Sarah standing there and Sarah looked amused already while Becca let out a gasp.
“Just as I thought!” she said, walking past you to step inside and you hugged Sarah when she stepped inside.
“Hey!”
“Hey there,” she said. “I held her back as long as I could.”
“Appreciate it,” you said and pressed a kiss on her cheek, then turned around to see Becca who made her way to Bucky.
“Are you trying to get bad luck? Why are you seeing the bride?!”
“Ask the bride,” Bucky said and you rolled your eyes.
“Come on, everyone in this room knows that this is more of a business deal than a wedding.”
Sarah shook her head slightly and you stole a look at her.
“It is,” you insisted and she held up her hands.
“I didn’t even say anything.”
“And where is my coffee?” Becca asked and Bucky nodded at the coffee machine.
“It’s right there, help yourself.”
“Did mom teach you nothing?” she asked while you leaned your head on Sarah’s shoulder, watching them bicker. “Is this your first time interacting with a guest in your place?”
“We don’t have the time to get coffee Becca, we can get it on our way to the weekend house,” Sarah stated and you checked your phone when you received another text, then heaved a sigh.
“Why is everyone texting me?”
“It’s just my theory but maybe because it’s your wedding day?” Sarah asked and motioned at you. “Give me your phone, you’ll be busy the whole day.”
“Oh my God thank you.”
“I already talked to Steve and Sam and I know when exactly you’re supposed to arrive there,” Becca said. “Which means, if you’re late as you like to be all the time—”
“It’s my own wedding Becca, I couldn’t be late if I tried.”
“Well forgive me if I don’t trust you,” Becca said. “I’m serious, my brother or not, I’ll shoot you if you’re late.”
“Does this have something to with the fact that you don’t know if your girlfriend is coming to come to the wedding so you’re channeling all your anger to me?”
“Bucky!” you hissed and he shrugged his shoulders.
“What?”
“Maybe worry less about my relationship and more about yours since we’re still not sure your wife who happens to be my best friend won’t kill you in your sleep,” Becca said airily and Bucky scoffed.
“She won’t kill me in my sleep.”
“She might.”
“She won’t— Y/N, tell her.”
“My dad raised me better than that,” you pointed out. “You don’t even kill enemies in their sleep, let alone allies.”
A happy smile lit up Bucky’s face as if you had just proclaimed your undying love to him on a bent knee and he motioned at you.
“See?” he asked Becca, pride clear in his voice. “We’re allies.”
“You’d have to be awake for it,” you added and Bucky’s head whipped around so that he could see you better.
“Come again?”
“Because honor—”
“Alright!” Sarah cut you both off. “Let’s go. Bucky, Sam and Steve are on their way here.”
“Yeah they just told me on group chat.”
“You have a group chat?” you asked and shook your head. “Of course you do.”
“Come on,” Becca said as she walked outside and Sarah followed her. You lingered there for a moment before you nodding at Bucky.
“I’ll see you at the wedding then.”
“See you, wife.”
“Stop calling me that!” you said and quickly left the suite before he could reply, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.
                                                                       *
The majority of the day had gone pretty fast. Thanks to your wedding planner, everything looked exactly how you described her. Barnes weekend residence and its huge yard were already gorgeous, and as the night fell, it looked almost magical. All the guests were seated, Becca and Sarah were already by the altar and so was Bucky, Steve and Sam. Even though you had tried to keep this wedding simple and with as few people as possible, it still looked like there were too many people and you brushed a hair over the skirt of your wedding gown, shifting your weight from one foot to other.
“Y/N?”
Your head shot up and you smiled at your father.
“I’m fine,” you said before he could ask, leaning your back to the wall, waiting for your cue. He kept his gaze on you before giving you a teary smile.
“Your mother would be so proud of you.”
“I haven’t done anything to make her proud yet,” the reply left your mouth before you had a chance to stop it and he pulled his brows together.
“Sweetheart,” he said. “You don’t have to do anything.”
No.
No you did have to.
You hadn’t done anything at all to prove yourself yet thanks to your father pushing you out of the picture so that Ian could be his heir instead of you, but you were going to fix that.
Whether he liked it or not.
“Right,” you managed to say. “Sorry. I’m just kind of nervous, that’s all.”
“That’s understandable,” he said. “But I assure you, tonight will go the way you’ve always dreamed of.”
Well, you had dreamt of actually being in love with the groom when you dreamt of your wedding but your father didn’t need to hear that.
This was going to be yet another thing you would keep from him, along with the car chase incident.
“Your aunt texted me by the way,” he said. “She sends her apologies for not making it to the wedding but she’s going to visit soon, she says.”
You tried not to roll your eyes and nodded your head.
“Great.”
“Y/N, I know things haven’t been great lately but I—” he started but was cut off when the music started and you pushed yourself off the wall, rolling your shoulders back. He offered you his arm, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your wild heartbeat down.
“Ready?” he asked and you bit inside your cheek, then took his arm.
“Ready,” you said and you both started walking down the aisle.
It was alright. This whole marriage was just going to last until you took over, and then you were going to get a divorce and you and Bucky would go your separate ways.
Bucky, who was now looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had seen.
You averted your gaze from his as your father and you reached the altar, and he squeezed at your arm before nodding at Bucky, then took his seat. You let out a breath and stole a look at Becca and Sarah, then turned to face the priest, forcing yourself to focus.
Fine, from an objective viewpoint he did look very handsome today.
Not that it changed anything. He was still the most arrogant man you had ever met.
Your heart was still beating so fast that you could hardly focus on what the priest was saying. You and Bucky had informed him earlier on that you would skip the speeches, considering that you had nothing to say other than lies, and you didn’t want to risk people seeing through your lie.
You could swear your head was spinning but you tried to see through the nervousness making its way through your system. You just needed to do this to take over, and then you’d get a divorce and you were hardly going to think about Bucky after that point, except for—
Well.
Technically you were going to have to do business with your ex-husband but that slight detail aside, it was going to be fine.
Blood was muffling your ears as you heard Bucky speak and you dug your fingernails into your palms, then your head shot up when you heard your name.
“Y/N?” the priest said and you blinked a couple of times, then cleared your throat.
“I—I do,” you said almost automatically and Bucky let out a relieved breath as the priest smiled calmly.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife,” he said. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Fuck.
Fuck, this right here had escaped your attention while planning the wedding and from the look of surprise on Bucky’s face, it had escaped his attention as well. He stared at you for a moment as if he didn’t know what to do, and the priest coughed as if trying to signal him.
“You may kiss the bride,” he repeated and you gave a small nod of your head, making Bucky swallow thickly before taking a step to you. Your heart skipped an excited beat as his arm sneaked around your waist and he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, then he dipped you slightly backwards, then leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss.
…Oh.
You would be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamed about this before. Back when you still had the biggest crush on Bucky, you would spend hours thinking about how it would feel if he kissed you, even imagining your wedding sometimes but—
You hadn’t thought that his kiss would feel this good.
Before you could even stop yourself, your arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours like he wanted to make the moment last. You exhaled, your breath mixing into his but when the applause started, you both snapped out of it. Bucky helped you gain your balance as you tried to catch your breath, then rolled your shoulders back and stepped back from him to smile at the crowd, ignoring the way Bucky’s eyes were glued to you.
                                                           *
You were quite certain you were the first bride who was going out of her way to avoid the groom on her wedding, but in your defense, you had a lot to think about.
Not that kiss.
You had to think about anything and everything except that kiss.
You passed through the huge garden to approach the bar, stealing a look at Leila and Becca who seemed to be in a deep conversation but judging by the small smile on Leila’s face, it was going well. Bucky was talking to Steve and Sam by the corner and Sarah was listening to Winnifred who seemed very enthusiastic to tell her something, motioning at the garden.
Probably something about the wedding.
You ordered your drink and smiled at Ryan who was sipping his drink by the bar and he smiled back.
“Ma’am.”
“Hi Ryan,” you said and looked around. “Please tell me Ian left early.”
“He’s in the bathroom ma’am,” Ryan said and you rolled your eyes.
“Great,” you said. “So are you having fun?”
“I am, thank you,” he said and looked down to his glass. “It’s a nice wedding and you…you look very nice if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Oh thank you!” you said. “You know, if you ever—”
“Mrs. Barnes,” another voice cut you off and you looked over your shoulder, then turned around to see him better.
“Mr. Stark,” you managed to say and the bartender put your glass on the counter. You took it into your hand and leaned back to the counter.
“Tony is alright.”
“Y/N is alright,” you quipped and Tony smiled at you.
“Very well.”
Ryan’s phone beeped and he cleared his throat, then put his glass down and walked away from you to make his way to the house.
“How do you like the wedding so far?” you asked and Tony thought for a moment.
“No one is shooting at anyone,” he said. “I’d say it’s going well.”
“The night is still young,” you said and he chuckled.
“I suppose,” he said. “But the drinks are pretty good.”
“Food is gonna be better,” you said. “We just figured people shooting at people would be less of a possibility if we made them drink first.”
“Your idea or Bucky’s?”
“Mine.”
Tony hummed and ordered his drink while you sipped yours.
“My father says you’re not exactly happy about this wedding,” you told him and he shrugged his shoulders.
“I’m thinking about how it will affect the balance of things now that you mention it,” he said. “Your father is a very powerful man, and you and Bucky uniting families…”
“I understand your concern perfectly,” you said in a calm tone even if your heartbeat sped up. “But I assure you, this will change nothing.”
“Is that right?”
You clicked your tongue.
“In your business it will change nothing,” you corrected yourself. “I’m quite familiar with your deals with my father, and the Barnes family. I’ll make sure they remain as they are.”
“As Bucky’s wife or as your father’s new heir?” he asked back and you arched a brow, but managed to keep your expression straight as the bartender gave him his drink as well.
“Is that what people say?”
“Well you’re marrying into Barnes family, your father still hasn’t announced his heir, and you have a way of making people talk about you lately,” Tony pointed out. “Not to mention, Natasha seems impressed with you.”
Your eyes found Natasha who was drinking with Clint before you turned your glances to Tony again.
“But you are not?”
“I don’t know you enough yet,” Tony said. “I mean I’ve had the time to figure Ian out and let me tell you, I am absolutely not impressed. But you? You’re a mystery.”
“I’m not,” you told him. “I want the same thing as you do. To keep the truce going, and to keep the town safe.”
“So you claim,” Tony said. “Even you can’t admit, this wedding gave you a huge advantage in power and allies.”
“Let’s be serious here Tony, it didn’t give me any advantage over any of the bosses here.”
“Yet,” Tony added and you hummed, then shrugged your shoulders.
“Yet.”
“But you want it to.”
“I want to make sure my family continues the truce after my father retires,” you stated. “I think that’s what we all want, no?”
Tony huffed out a laugh and raised his glass slightly.
“It is,” he said. “But we also want to make sure your fight for the crown doesn’t hurt the town.”
You opened your mouth to say it would never happen, but heard Pepper calling out for Tony so you both turned your heads before Tony cleared his throat.
“I should go,” he said. “I’ll be in touch. Maybe a dinner with the newlyweds?”
“We’d love to host you and Pepper,” you said and he downed his drink, then put it on the counter and walked away. You let out a breath, then finished your drink as well before motioning at another.
“Aren’t you supposed to be with your husband?” Ian’s voice reached you and you rolled your eyes, then leaned sideways to the bar.
“What do you want?”
He held up his hands, gesturing surrender. “I come in peace.”
“As if.”
“Come on Y/N, it’s your wedding,” he said. “I would have thought you’d be in a better mood.”
“I was, then you started talking to me,” you said and he hummed.
“Listen,” he said. “I’m being completely serious here. Congratulations for the wedding, I’m happy for you. I know we’ve had our differences but we both want your father to be happy, and this wedding is a huge relief for him.”
You pulled your brows together.
“A relief?”
“Yeah,” he said. “It’s a relief for me as well. Now you can just be happy with Barnes and focus on your marriage and your family.”
That bitter taste climbed up your throat but you managed to scoff a laugh and motioned for another drink.
“Is that what you think will happen?” you asked him. “Me and Bucky get married and… then what? I get out of your hair?”
“We’re family,” he reminded you. “That’s not what I—that’s not it. You’ll just have different priorities.”
“Did you give the same speech to Bucky or is it just for me?” you asked and he rolled his eyes.
“You know how the business works Y/N, you don’t need me to tell you.”
You bit inside your cheek hard enough to hurt, then reached out to grab your glass of drink the bartender just placed on the counter.
“You’re the daughter of one of the most important men in the business,” he said. “This marriage will be good for the family, uncle knows that. Not to mention…”
You lowered your glass and tilted your head.
“Not to mention?”
“You’re a wild card,” he said. “It’s hard to play you.”
Your grip around the glass tightened and you shrugged your shoulders.
“Maybe I’ll play you.”
“Spouses don’t get involved, you know the rules,” he said with a snort and your smirk widened before you took a sip, keeping quiet. That confident look on his face faltered when you didn’t reply and he pulled back slightly.
“You can’t,” he said as if trying to convince himself. “You wouldn’t.”
“Here you are!” Bucky’s voice cut through the momentary silence between you and Ian and you turned your head to give him a smile. “Was wondering where you were sweetheart.”
“Time for the food?”
“Mm hm, let’s go.”
Ian gawked at you in silence while you narrowed your eyes at him, dragging the tip of your tongue over your teeth.
“You wouldn’t,” Ian repeated, making Bucky looked between you before he casually stepped closer to you without saying a word, as if making sure you knew he was there to interfere at the slightest sign of you wanting him to. Your stomach did a pleasant flip and you downed your drink, then put it on the counter to turn to Ian.
“Enjoy the wedding, Ian,” you said, grabbing Bucky's hand. “And make sure to rest tonight, will you? Tomorrow will be a new day for both of us.”
With that, you walked away from Ian with Bucky right behind you, a proud smile warming your face.
Chapter 15
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ladykailitha · 1 month
Text
The Harrington Pattern Part 13
This is it guys, the chapter of this fic. I have had an absolute blast writing and even more so reading all the comments and tags.
This last chapter is dedicated to all those who wanted the moms to bring Steve into their fold. This was also chance for Steve to rip on the haters without fear of his parents ire.
Thank you so much for all the love and support for this little story.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
****
Claudia was waiting at the Byers’ front door when Eddie pulled up in his van and Steve hopped out.
“Eddie!” she cried happily. “I didn’t know you were coming!”
“Hey, Mrs. H,” Eddie said with a wave. “I’m just dropping Stevie off. We’re hanging out later.”
“That was sweet of you, dear,” Claudia cooed.
Steve in the meantime was pulling things out of the backseat of the van. Eddie looked over at him.
“You need help, darlin’?” he asked over his shoulder.
Steve shook his head. “I’ve got it. Thank you, though.” In lower voice he muttered, “I love you and I’ll see you later.”
Eddie gave Steve’s forearm a squeeze and then waved at Claudia. He backed out of the driveway and was soon gone from sight.
“We’ve got all sorts of surprises for you today, Steve,” she said gleefully clapping her hands together.”
Steve grinned at her. “Mrs. Peterson here yet?”
Claudia shook her head. “She’s always at least fifteen minutes late. Something we were banking on actually.”
Steve cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”
But Claudia just ushered him inside. He set his stuff down and then handed her a tray.
“I made blondies,” he said, “I hope you ladies like them.”
She peeled back the foil and gasped. “Steve they look amazing!”
Joyce came out of the kitchen wiping her hands. “What looks amazing?” she asked peering over Claudia’s shoulder. She, too, gasped when she saw them. “Steve, you didn’t!”
Steve grinned. “Your sons always eat the ones I send home with them before they even get home, so I figured you’d appreciate these.”
She kissed his cheek. “You are a dear.”
Claudia laid them out on table next to all the other treats.
On the coffee table were a bunch of things under a large sheet with clowns on it.
“The three of us,” Karen began, “wanted to do something extra special for you after hearing what fun our children had at the Fair because you made sure they did. So we each contributed something toward your love of sewing.”
She lifted the sheet. Underneath was a beautiful sewing kit in navy blue, a light green Singer sewing machine that looked older than he was, and a stack of old patterns.
Steve’s lip wobbled as he raised his hand to his mouth in shock.
“You didn’t have to do this, ladies,” he whispered.
“The sewing kit is from me,” Karen continued. “It’s a beginner’s kit, but it has fabric scissors, a seam ripper, bobbins for your thread and different kinds of needles.”
Steve sat down and pulled it onto his lap. He opened it and as he lifted the lid, the top tray pulled back revealing the tray beneath. “Thank you.”
“The sewing machine,” Claudia said proudly, “is the first one I ever owned. When I got married I got a new one and I’ve been using that ever since. But this ol’ girl has a lot of love and life left in her, and I want you to have her.”
Steve looked up at her, tears forming in his eyes. “Aren’t you worried that I’ll break it? Or that my parents will find it and destroy it?”
Claudia knelt in front of him. “It’s gonna be kept at my house until you get a place of your own. You’re there all the time to see Dusty anyway, no one is going to notice that you’re there to sew now, too.”
“Plus,” Joyce said with a grin. “It’s a Singer. They’re a little hard to break. They’re one of the best machines and it will probably outlast your children. So don’t worry about it, okay?”
Steve nodded, his lip quivering. Claudia kissed his forehead and stood back up.
“The patterns are from me,” Joyce said. “Whenever I would have a little extra money I would pick up a pattern or two at the drug store and bring it home. I picked a handful that I thought you’d like since you’re primarily making costumes. And if those work for you, next week I’ll bring another handful you might like.”
Tears started flowing down his cheeks. “Thank you. All of you. This is best gift I’ve ever gotten.”
“Oh honey,” Joyce said softly and suddenly Steve was being hugged on all sides by the moms.
They stayed like that until there was a knock on the door.
“That must be Olive,” Claudia said with a sigh. “I bet she brought those brownies that are totally store bought even though she insists it her grandmother’s recipe.”
Steve snickered. “My mom used to do that. I don’t think she fooled anyone either.”
Joyce grinned over her shoulder as she went to go answer the door. “Olive, dear! We were just getting started.”
“Oh?” the bright voice on the other side of the door cooed. “You’re usually in the full swing of things by now.”
Steve bristled. That meant she knew she was late and was doing it intentionally. He hated people like that. Acting like the rest of them were peasants meant to be waiting on her.
“Steve was just showing us the costumes he made for the kids for the Fair over the weekend,” Karen said sweetly as Steve hurried to get the things he brought to show off out.
Olive stepped into the house with a sneer. “I think it’s so sweet you’re indulging the boy, but I doubt he can hold a candle to Claudia’s years of experience.”
Wow, Steve thought. Not only did she insult him, but she insinuated Claudia was old. What was with this old bag?
Claudia smirked. “It’s true that I’ve been doing it for longer, but Steve has a real talent for it. Come see.”
Olive walked into the front room and Steve was struck by how much she reminded him of his mother. She had perfectly curled hair with not a single strand out of place. Her clothes were fitted and showed off her figure. Her makeup was flawless.
In short, Steve hated her on sight.
Joyce handed her the shirt he had made for underneath his tunic. It was flawless but understated.
Olive took the shirt and scoffed. “You couldn’t have done this, Harrington, you shouldn’t lie to your betters.”
Steve was already seeing red. “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you then.”
Joyce clapped her hands together. “All right, let’s get started. Steve, you can eat as much as you want, but just make sure to keep it away from other people’s projects.”
Steve smiled at her sweetly. “Of course!”
He knew that what she was really saying was that Olive Peterson might try something.
He sat in the armchair away from her and she glared at him.
“Is it all right if I work on my project first before you teach me how to use the sewing machine?” he asked just as she was taking a drink of punch.
Olive was forced to turn away and cough into her hand to avoid spraying everyone with the lemonade that Claudia had made.
Karen’s smile was feral. “I don’t see why that would be a problem, right, Claudia?”
“Of course not, Steve,” she replied warmly. “Just let me know when you want to learn and I’ll come over and help you.”
Steve nodded. He pulled out the materials that Eddie suggested he bring and got to work.
Eddie really liked that Steve’s bags had a lining because it protected the dice better, so Steve had brought along some materials he could use for that as well.
About halfway through his first bag, Joyce called out.
“Steve? What’s that pattern you’re putting on the bag?”
Steve’s eyes lit up. “It’s my signature! I embroider it on everything I do to make sure people can’t pass it off as their own.” He handed the bag over to her.
“Oh!” she cried in excitement. “This is the design you put on Will and El’s costumes when you did their alterations, right?”
Steve nodded. “I hope you don’t mind. I know you made the clothes, but I thought it was a cute way to tie the two together like they were twins.”
“It was perfect,” Joyce said. “El still hasn’t stopped talking about how pretty your design made the dress.”
Steve blushed as he took the pouch back from her.
“I was talking to someone at the Renaissance Fair,” he said shyly, “and she wanted me make them clothes and things that she would sell for me. She even told me to make business cards in case someone wanted to commission me directly.”
“Oh Steve!” Karen cried. “That’s wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and tilted her head. “I have to admit I’m a little jealous. That pattern is beautiful. I would love a handkerchief with that on it.”
Steve straightened up. “Yeah?”
Karen nodded.
“What color would you like?” he asked excitedly.
Karen tried to protest but he wouldn’t let her. In fact he managed to convince all but Olive to let him make them one for them.
It did, unfortunately take him to the end of the two hours, but he was excited to come next week.
“I’ll even host it at my place!” he said with a grin.
Olive sputtered. “Well I won’t be there if it’s at this young man’s house. That’s so inappropriate.”
The three other ladies looked at each other and then shrugged.
“Your loss,” Karen said dryly.
Olive stormed out of the house vowing that as long as Steve was part of the group she would never come back.
“Well that is a relief,” Joyce said, “I’m not the kind to speak ill of anyone, but we really got quite the upgrade!”
Karen clapped her hands. “Indeed. I can’t wait for next week. I’ve got a new project I’m starting and I found the best recipe for a chocolate mousse that I’ve been dying to try out.”
“Same time next week, ladies?” Steve asked.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Claudia agreed.
Then there came a loud honk.
Steve looked out the window and smiled. “Looks like my ride is here.”
He gather up his stuff, including the patterns and sewing kit and walked out to Eddie’s van.
He slid into the front seat.
“You have fun today, sweetheart?” Eddie asked, pulling out of the driveway.
“Yeah,” Steve said looking fondly at the house. “This has been the best weekend ever.”
Eddie grinned. “Well, it’s about to get even better, just wait to you see what I have planned for us today.”
Steve smiled as Eddie regaled him with his plans and nodded along.
Life was really looking up. He had a platonic soulmate, good friends, an amazing boyfriend, a hobby he enjoyed and could make real money from, and now a group of people to share that hobby with each week.
And to think it all started with a flier about the Renaissance Fair coming back to Hawkins.
“I can’t wait,” he breathed once Eddie was done.
Eddie smiled that sweet smile at always turned Steve’s insides to mush.
Yeah, Steve could honestly say that he was happy.
****
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berryunho · 4 months
Text
THE ANSWER: XXVII
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Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers ‘sect.’ pairing: ateez x fem reader genre: cult au, thriller, angst check warnings on AO3
← previous || next → || masterlist chapter word count: 8,561
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You take in San’s words, blinking aggressively. You pull your face away from his, your questions clear from your expression.
San squeezes his eyes shut, unable to look at you for too long. “I can’t explain it now. Or, well, I’ll explain it all soon, but we need to leave.”
“Leave? Like, the farm?” You question, your words coming faster than you can control them. “What? San? Did something happen?” 
He opens his eyes, then, staring into yours. The pain is evident in his face, his internal struggle still battling. 
“After today, I can’t predict what Hongjoong will do to get you to break.” San admits, tears welling in his eyes. “He’s going to hurt you, and if he can’t, he’ll kill you.” 
“What happened to you, San?” You ask, more concerned by his disheveled appearance than by the revelation of the thoughts that you’ve had hundreds of times. 
He shakes his head. “It’s not important, I promise. I’m fine.” He pauses, sucking in a breath. “How do you feel?” 
“I’m fine, San, just shaken up, I guess. Do you know how Hongjoong did that?” 
His hands squeeze your forearms tighter, gripping you like he’s going to lose you. “I have no idea. But if he’s willing to go this far, I… fuck, I can’t believe it. I have to get you away from this.” 
You can only gape at him. You can’t believe that San is saying these things to you. San had always been so loyal to Hongjoong, even leading up to the very moments before the ceremony. What could possibly have made him flip his entire script so quickly? 
It’s almost touching to realize how much San must care for you. If he’s willing to abandon this for you… Fuck. 
“San, when can we go?” You try to not sound so eager, but the prospect of getting away is so sweet. 
He presses a kiss to your forehead before replying. “I have to think on it, but I swear that it will be soon. I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to figure it out.” 
You want to ask what it is that he’s figured out or what made him realize, but that sits in the backseat compared to the thought that suddenly rises to the forefront of your mind. “What about Haseul? And Mingi?” 
San freezes, still searching your face. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, but no words come out. 
“San?” 
“I,” he pauses, biting his lip, “I’ll have to think about it more. We might have to come back for them.” 
You don’t like that idea, but you had thought it yourself a few times before. It would be a lot easier to get yourself out and come back with people that could actually stand a chance against this group rather than try and sneak out with someone else, risking all of your lives in the process. 
“Just trust me, yeah?” He smiles, letting go of your arms to readjust his shirt. 
You nod, throwing the blanket off of your legs. This is as good of a time as any to get out of the infirmary. Whatever had been going on with San, they must not care too much if you’re back with him considering the fact that he’s here now. 
Once San is reassembled, he offers you his hand again, helping you stand as you swing your legs off the bed. The two of you leave the room, passing by Nayeon as you walk down the hallway. She waves, smiling while you go. 
San drops your hand once you’re outside, but keeps one on the small of your back. He could reasonably pass that off as just helping you stay upright. 
By now, it’s mid-morning, almost 11. The sun is high and the fields— 
For the first time since you had arrived at the farm, you saw the farm equipment actually being put to use. A huge combine harvester moves through the field, still relatively close to the barn. You’re awestruck to actually see work being done, amazed that the time has passed so quickly. 
You halt in your tracks, lifting a hand up to shield your eyes from the sun so that you can watch the machine move. It doesn’t move particularly fast, but, by God, is it freaky looking. You wouldn’t want that thing coming to run you down, that’s for sure.
Which only reminds you of the time that you had tried to escape. And then resorted to hiding in the corn. 
When all of the corn is harvested, how will this place look? Barren. Cold. You don’t want to picture it; all that land with nowhere to hide. Will you even have to see it? Maybe you’ll be gone by then. 
A waving figure catches your eye off in the distance. You’re easily able to identify Yeosang once you look fully at him, and you raise your hand back in greeting, having to squint your eyes against the sun. 
San doesn’t wave back, instead ushering you to turn back toward the compound and keep moving. 
“Are we in a rush?” You ask, allowing him to steer you toward the door. 
San glances around, “I wouldn’t say that. But I’d feel better if we were alone in our apartment.” 
Well, okay, you guess. You would think that it would be a bit suspicious if you both suddenly started acting differently, but it’ll probably be okay for right now. At least until you can talk to San about everything. 
You head inside, trying to walk to the stairs. But you’re stopped before either of you can make the first step, a voice calling your name behind you.
It’s Wooyoung, you realize, before you even turn around to face him. 
“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” 
You glare across the foyer at him, wondering what kind of nerve this kid must have to be talking to you like you’re best friends again. 
He has a point, though. You turn your attention to your stomach, but you’re not surprised that the general sense of nausea and unease still lingers there; nothing like hunger. “I’m not hungry.” 
You know better than to directly accuse him of drugging you again. You really don’t know if he did… it’s possible that he didn’t. But, really, looking back on it… Ugh, you’ll just ask San later. He had already told you what he thought, but… you don’t know. Just, whatever. 
Wooyoung squints, a flat expression on his face. “Are you feeling alright after everything? Not just anyone can say they stood down a Guardian.” 
That’s really rich, coming from Wooyoung, you have to admit. The guy that basically told you that you need to accept your role in this place because he isn’t happy with his, either. Maybe he’s trying to sympathize with you, as a fellow skeptic. You won’t take the “compliment” at face value, but you still don’t appreciate the remark. 
“I’m perfectly fine,” you shrug, hoping to end the conversation there. 
He doesn’t look convinced. “I’ll have someone run some food up for you guys.” 
San thanks him for you, clearly ending the conversation there. He ushers the both of you up the stairs and to your apartment, swiftly locking the door behind you once you’re inside. 
You look around your apartment, almost expecting something to have changed, but nothing has. Everything is just how you left it this morning, not a single thing out of order. 
“Are we talking about this now, then?” You question, looking to San as he paces in front of the couch. He doesn’t stop pacing, but he does gesture for you to sit down, “you’re really worrying me, San.” 
He halts in place then, frowning, but not sitting next to you. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” he lets his sentence hang in the air, “I can’t believe… I can’t believe it.” 
“What happened to you while I was out?” You want to reach out and grab his hand, but you can’t, he’s moving too much. 
San starts pacing again, “well, first of all, sorry for disappearing on your right before the ceremony.” You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Seonghwa appeared out of nowhere and pulled me aside to talk about literally nothing and then, by the time I realized what was happening, the ceremony had started and I couldn’t have helped you.” 
He freezes, as if recalling the memory, “and then the ceremony happened. And, and that thing appeared. I hope to God that Hongjoong or Seonghwa or someone was able to explain that to you, because I can’t. I don’t know what that was, I’ve never seen anything like it or heard of Hongjoong—” he stops abruptly. “I mean that I don’t know how that happened. And I saw it grab you and I seriously, I thought that it was now, that, that Hongjoong had enough of you and— I thought you were going to die.” 
It’s only now that his voice falters, breaking with his last sentence. You’re no stranger to San’s emotions, but his tears always have an effect on you. To his credit, he does a good job of keeping it mostly together as he keeps speaking. 
“But then it was over, and you were on the ground, and I tried to stand up to go to you, but Seonghwa held me down, and I couldn’t do anything. I felt so helpless watching Hongjoong pick you up, watching Mingi run to his side to take you off of his hands and carry you out. I tried to get up again, but Seonghwa wouldn’t let me go. I almost fucking hit him.” He shakes at the memory, his voice thick with both anger and his tears. “We stayed there for a long time. We just waited until Hongjoong came back, and he sure fucking came back. He was incensed. Didn’t even say why. Even Seonghwa looked nervous as he screamed and bitched and threw shit around.” 
.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.
“You will not take her from me!” Hongjoong screams, at neither man in particular. “I don’t care which one of you it is; I forbade it for a reason and I will be fucking respected!” 
Seonghwa doesn’t move an inch at San’s side. San doesn’t say anything, either.
Hongjoong’s rage permeates the chapel. “Why isn’t she scared? Why isn’t she terrified, whimpering and begging for her life at my feet?” He starts pacing up and down the aisle, kicking copies of The Answer that he had thrown to the ground. “Doesn’t she realize that I am the only thing standing between her and a cold grave?” He whirls to face the other two men. “Answer me!”
“I think she is scared of you,” San mutters, “but she’s good at hiding it in front of you.” 
Hongjoong’s face contorts into a smile, and San knows that he’s fucked up. “Is that it? How do you know, San? Do you hold her at night while she cries in your arms at my cruelty?” 
San only blinks, unable to respond in a way that would please his leader. 
“She doesn’t know about Haseul yet. What is she going to think when she finds out that her boyfriend let her die?” 
“Hongjoong—,” Seonghwa cuts in, “She can’t know about Haseul, even if you want to scare her. It’s invaluable for us to be able to hold this ove—”
“You will not tell me what I can and cannot do, Park Seonghwa!” Hongjoong yells, “I am in charge here! I am! If I want her to know about Haseul, she will know about Haseul.” 
“Of course you are, Hongjoong, you don’t need to be so angry.” Seonghwa tries to console Hongjoong, to absolutely no avail. 
Hongjoong puts his palms together, resting his index fingers on his forehead as he thinks. “I cannot take this disrespect much longer.” 
The chapel remains in tense silence, neither San nor Seonghwa wanting to be the first to say something.
Apparently that’s not what Hongjoong wanted, either. “Seonghwa,” he gets the man’s attention, “hold San steady for me, would you?”
San knows what’s coming. Hongjoong’s had it out for him for ages, and this is finally it. He’s outlived his purpose, his presence is only backfiring, it’s time for him to go. He knew that it was coming, he should’ve known that it would be now. His death would utterly destroy (Y/n), there would be nothing for her to do except accept her fate. 
Seonghwa does as Hongjoong instructs, standing behind him to hold his arms in place. San doesn’t struggle. He has to be strong. Go bravely. That’s what he wants. 
But Hongjoong surprises him. He takes a step toward him, smoothing his own ceremonial shirt before grabbing the hem of San’s and pulling it out of his pants. 
Oh… San really hadn’t been expecting tha—
But then Hongjoong hits him. Just once. 
“We’ll see how she feels when you’re not so pretty.” Hongjoong spits, literally, onto the floor of the chapel. 
San can hardly hear him through the pain rippling over his jaw, but the message is clear enough. He doesn’t need a mirror to taste the blood, or feel it pouring down his chin. Seonghwa lets go of his arms and it takes everything in him to not double over. Instead, he looks up at Hongjoong, unintimidated. 
Hongjoong stretches his hand. “She asked for you, Seonghwa. Better go comfort her.” He glares up at him. “But not too well.” 
.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.
Of course, unbeknownst to you, San leaves the… sensitive details out as he recounts Hongjoong’s tantrum for you. Not a single word of Haseul is spoken to you, but the rest is mostly accurate. 
You sit in horror as San recounts these details to you, unsure how to even react. You’ve always known that Hongjoong is capable of violence, and Seonghwa, too, but to hear of them acting such violence onto San, of all people… it’s almost unthinkable. At some point in the not too distant past, Hongjoong had trusted San to watch over you at all times of the day, and now? His own paranoia has driven him to violence? 
Your thoughts wander to Seonghwa against your own better judgment. Seonghwa is his own person, he’s taking care of himself. He doesn’t want you meddling in his relationships, and he has made this more than abundantly clear. 
But how does Hongjoong treat him? It can’t be kind. You’ve seen the slights between them, seen Hongjoong deny Seonghwa of even the simplest pleasure. Behind closed doors, what do they talk about? How does Hongjoong act around him? 
Though you’re loath to admit it, you have to worry for him. If Hongjoong is violent with you, the person he considers to be one of the most important figures in his religion… that doesn’t bode well for Seonghwa. 
“San,” you bring your thoughts back to the present moment, “I’m so sorry that you went through that for me.” 
He doesn’t stop pacing, almost ignoring your sentiment all together. “Hongjoong is crazy.” 
“I’ve known that for a while now.” 
San smiles. Smiles. “I don’t think you understand the extent of it.”
You find that hard to believe, but there probably are things that San knows about Hongjoong that you don’t.
“But that’s not important for right now. I just need you to keep your distance from him as much as possible; I’ll ask Seonghwa for his help—”
“Seonghwa?” You’re astounded. “You’re going to ask Seonghwa to help us escape?” 
San shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, not looking at you. “No, but he’ll keep you away from Hongjoong. That’s basically his number one priority, anyways.” 
It makes sense. If Hongjoong is as volatile as he was with Seonghwa and San earlier, he’s a danger to be around. Even more so than usual. But getting Seonghwa’s help… “Won’t it be obvious what we’re trying to do?”
“You already avoid Hongjoong,” San says. “I don’t think it will be a drastic enough change to draw attention, as long as you’re not refusing to see Seonghwa.” 
The way with which San says this last sentence… is different. He’s not stuttering anymore, you realize. He hasn’t been for a while, now. When San is upset, his stutter is more pronounced than anything else, its absence is suddenly so jarring that you have to wonder why you didn’t realize when it stopped. 
There’s no emotion in his voice anymore. No personality, no San. 
You stare up at him, watching him walk back and forth in front of you. He’s not upset, not anymore, at least. What is this? 
“San.” You try to get his attention. “Are you alright?” 
He finally stops walking, if just for a second, to give you a good look at his face. “I’m fine,” he states. His eyes aren’t red, his breathing is perfectly even, his expression flat. “Why do you ask?” 
“You’re scaring me,” you say. “What’s going on?”
San resumes his pacing. “You should be scared, I should be scared, I should’ve been this whole time; But I’ve been so stupid and now isn’t the time for me to be some sniveling boy.”
You can’t respond to that. 
“I think I know when we can try to get out. I’m not going to fail you this time, (Y/n), I swear.”  
“San, wait, hold on,” you start, shaking your head, “what about your laptop? The phones? Can’t you just call the cops?” 
San smiles tightly, “I considered it, but there would be issues. Hongjoong has a plan, and things would not end well if law enforcement got involved and Hongjoong had more than five seconds to think before he was arrested or killed.” 
“So you’re seriously proposing that we run away, leaving everyone else here… forever… including the children?” 
“Would you rather be alive and here or dead and buried?” San blinks. “That’s what this comes down to for the rest of the group. We can find a way to get Mingi and Haseul, but it’s not feasible to save everyone knowing that Hongjoong has a plan for this exact situation.” 
Your stomach rolls over itself as he explains this. How can you just leave? How could you leave everyone behind and forget about them? How could San even suggest something so horrible?
The thought of freedom is enticing, but the weight that would remain on your conscience… It makes you sick just thinking about it now. 
Whatever. Fuck San. You’ll remedy the situation yourself once you’re out. There’s not a chance in hell you’d leave all of these innocent people to rot on this farm. 
San’s apathy is so jarring. Maybe that’s what waking up after years of brainwashing does to a person.
You don’t want to judge him when he’s so clearly doing this for you. To protect you. You can hardly complain that he’s resolved in this situation. 
… Yeah, no, it still rubs you the wrong way.
But you’ll shrug it off for now. “When can we go?” 
.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.
San explains the general idea to you, which he’ll refine in the coming weeks. 
With the beginning of the harvest starting, that puts the farm about one month out from the conclusion. Apparently, they don’t actually own that much acreage, just enough to surround the commune itself, so harvest doesn’t take very long. Throughout the month, there are various ceremonies that all culminate into one, final, grand ceremony at the end of the harvest. After this ceremony, there’s a party. 
It was about here when you realized where this was going.
The party is huge, apparently. Like, all-out, rager huge. Everyone gets drunk (apparently this is part of the ceremony) and everything gets a bit wild and confusing. San’s proposal is that the two of you make a break for it when everyone is (a) extremely inebriated and (b) distracted by the celebrations. 
It’s kind of cliche, but you have to imagine that it’ll work, especially if this party is as crazy as San explained. 
If it doesn’t work… the thought puts a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re not going to start pondering what you’ll do if you get caught for a second time. 
Really, this plan should work. San has access to the vehicles. With a car, you can be fifty miles away before anyone even realizes that you’re gone, so long as Hongjoong lets you out of his sight for even just a few minutes. 
With all of the noise and distractions, no one will hear the car starting. No one will hear you guys peeling out, the terrible crunch of the gravel under the wheels that you had heard what felt like so long ago. 
You think back to the night in the corn field. What a shitshow. You had to give it to yourself, you were very brave. And you got quite far for the amount of preparation that you had done. But that night… 
Remains one that you want to forget. But you’ll never forget the fear coursing through your veins, the feeling of your heart in your chest, your ears twitching with every sound that you heard. When Seonghwa was chasing you, when Hongjoong reduced you to a puddle at his feet. 
It was like being hunted for sport. 
You have to hold out hope that the car will make all of the difference here, which you’re sure that it can. Where you’re going to go… you aren’t sure. 
Surely, you know that you have to get law enforcement involved, but what San said is weighing on your mind… Maybe, if you fully explained the situation, you could get some sort of covert mission operating… But that would probably have its pitfalls, too. It’s hard to know what’s right, but you trust that you’ll figure it out once you’ve saved yourself. 
There’s also the option that the police will entirely write you off and think you’re just some crazy lady. Especially if San… 
No, wait, pause. San would tell the truth, right? Like, he would be your witness? He wouldn’t actually just let this keep happening once he’s out… 
God, the fact that you even have to weigh this option is exhausting. Why can’t you just trust him? You’ve had no problem with it before, so why should it be an issue now? Has San ever done anything to betray your trust? Minus him being a high-ranking cult official, but, like, that’s just part of the deal. You have to trust him, especially now.  If you can’t trust San, who can you trust? 
Your mind wanders to your apartment, your old college dorm room, your childhood bedroom. How dreamy would it be to be anywhere but here? You miss your big bed and your pantry full of snacks you actually like and your bookshelves stacked with your books. You miss sleeping alone, but hearing your neighbors through your thin walls; when you didn’t have a sanctioned bed time that everyone obeyed. 
On your nightstand at home, you have a framed picture of your friends. You try to picture their faces, all of them. Changbin, Mingi, Soojin, Haseul, Juyeon, and Jungeun. And, of course, your own face. When’s the last time you looked in the mirror? You think of your features, your hair, the color of your eyes and your smile. 
Horrifyingly, you can only picture Hongjoong’s smile. 
You stop trying to picture yourself.
Mingi comes to the forefront of your mind. Mingi. Do all roads lead back to Mingi? It feels like it. San had said that Mingi had run to you when you fainted, that he’d taken you from Hongjoong and carried you to the infirmary. You try to picture it, the feeling of Mingi’s arms wrapped around you again. Had he held you close, like a friend, or sterile, far away from his own body, the act of an EMT? Had he let your head hang upside down, over his arm, or did he support your neck like you would a baby? 
You don’t know what feels right. You only know that Mingi had held you and Mingi had cared. 
Maybe he threw you over his shoulder like he used to do when you refused to follow him somewhere. Probably unlikely. But you smile as you think about it, anyways, how he always used his height to his advantage and how he would sling you around like you weighed nothing. 
How many times did he have to carry you to the library? How many times did he carry you out of the library? What does carrying someone mean? When is it an act of love and when is it an act of control?
Haseul had been carried. Where is she, now? In a little room? Is Wooyoung talking to her, keeping her company? Has Mingi been a good companion to her? Is she being subjugated to Hongjoong and Seonghwa, yet? Are you going to have to attend her own Choosing ceremony, soon? 
Hongjoong wouldn’t trust you to just silently watch her ceremony, you know that well enough. It’ll probably just happen and you’ll be told after the fact. When its too late to warn her. The next time you see her, she’ll probably be in the infirmary, recovering from a fucking stab wound. 
Your own scar tingles. Would Hongjoong just kill her? He had made it clear that he decides who lives and who dies. He could just lethally aim the knife. And wouldn’t that be the ultimate punishment? Not knowing she’s dead until being told after the fact? Not being able to see her one last time? 
San wouldn’t let that happen. He would warn you, he would try to help her again, you’re sure of it. 
So you just have to focus on yourself, for now. Keep your head down, wait it out, and trust San. That’s really all that you can do. You can’t help Haseul while you’re stuck here, just like you can’t help Mingi, either. 
.・。.・゜✭ ⧖ ・.・ ⧖ ✫・゜・。.
You had half expected Hongjoong to give you a break for a few days, considering your encounter with… whatever that thing was, but that illusion is quickly destroyed when Seonghwa comes knocking on your door at the usual time the next day. 
San answers, quickly lowering his voice in what sounds like an attempt to plead with Seonghwa to leave you alone for the day. You sneak up behind San, making eye contact with Seonghwa as your appearance calls his attention. 
“What do you think, princess?” He sounds as pissed as he looks. You can imagine that he wants to be here just as much as you want him here.
Resting a hand on San’s shoulder, you tell him that you’re fine to go. Afterall, how else are you supposed to keep up appearances? And you need to learn more about what this month has in store for you.
San steps aside as Seonghwa offers you his hand, which you take. Strange, though, that he doesn’t take your arm as he usually would. Is this his way of…
Your last conversation echoes in your head. Seonghwa seemed genuinely concerned. And quite rattled. And he was honest with you, as much as you could expect him to be. Maybe he’s feeling bad. Or sentimental. Or protective. 
… Pft, who are you kidding? He probably didn’t even think twice about taking your hand instead of your arm.
Hand-in-hand, you walk silently to Hongjoong’s apartment.
Fuck. You can only hope that he’s not there. You could probably play off your curiosity about the month as your worry about what’s going to happen to you, but something tells you that Hongjoong is going to be looking for reasons to be cruel. Or you’re going to be in for some intense attempts at gaslighting you into believing… 
You have to resist a shudder at the memory. With enough effort, you probably could believe that that shit was real. Didn’t you have to beg Seonghwa to tell you that it wasn’t? You still don’t understand what the hell that even was or how it could’ve been faked, but you really can’t bring yourself to think of it. 
Seonghwa drops your hand to open the door, holding it open behind him to allow you to enter as well. 
Hesitantly, you glance around the apartment. 
“He’s not here,” Seonghwa says. “But he wants you here when he comes back.” 
The door shuts, and you sit at your usual spot on the couch. Seonghwa flops into his chair, facing you. 
“When will he be back?” 
He just shrugs, folding his arms across his chest. The image takes you back to a certain other night the two of you have been alone, and you have to clench your jaw to drive away the thoughts, looking anywhere else but at his body. 
“I suppose you have more questions.” Seonghwa doesn't ask you this, but tells you. 
Yeah, you have a lot of questions. The primary ones you either can't ask Seonghwa or you've asked him already, to no avail. 
You look at your nail beds, trying to be nonchalant. “Are you still jealous of San?” 
Why that's the question you decide to ask, you have no idea. 
Seonghwa scoffs. “Really?” He asks. “That's where we're going?” 
Shrugging, you try your best to resist looking at him. “I just thought it was strange that Hongjoong didn't want me to see him yesterday. I can't help but imagine that you must still be feeding him lies,” you say. “He also told me that it was you that had to physically hold him back when I fell.” Not to mention the other holding he did. 
Though you don't look at him, you can imagine his displeasure spreading across his expression. “I don't know why you insist that there's nothing between you. It's nothing to be ashamed of, minus the fact that your misadventures could only cause harm to San.” 
“Exactly,” your eyes flit up to his face, “I'd never put him in danger.” 
“Your loyalty to a man you hardly know is admirable,” Seonghwa says through a sneer. 
“I know San better than I know you.” 
You could swear his eye twitches. “Sure you do.” 
“Is there something you want to tell me?” You blink. “I have no reason to not trust San, and every reason to not trust you.” 
Seonghwa shakes his head, smiling. “I think you're forgetting your situation, Princess. San is your punishment, and you're his.” He brushes his bangs out of his eyes. “I never said you had to trust me. I think you do, anyways.”
You stay silent, knowing that he's at least partially correct. You probably do trust Seonghwa, at least more than a lot of the people here. 
“Otherwise, you wouldn't have asked for me to calm you yesterday.” 
“I asked for San, first.”
“And what would he have told you?” Seonghwa leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Not what you wanted to hear. He wouldn't have been able to assure you of anything. I did.” 
Again, you know he's right. San hadn't been able to do much to calm your nerves, despite tell you his plan for your escape. 
You lock eyes with him, planning to defend San, but your gaze betrays you. Seonghwa leans back in the chair, knowing he's got you.
“Who was in the costume?” You ask instead. 
Seonghwa deigns to look confused. “I'm not sure what you mean.” 
The frustration of the prior day comes back at full force. Why can't just one other person acknowledge the fucking insanity of this place? Why can't Seonghwa just say what he means? Why is he so insistent on agreeing with Hongjoong, no matter the cost?
“Do you ever get tired of being Hongjoong's lapdog?” 
“Lapdog?” He smiles. “Come here.”
You swallow as he gestures for you to stand in front of him, recognizing the gesture from weeks prior. “No.”
Seonghwa stands instead, stepping around the coffee table to be able to stand before you. Forced into looking up at him, you hate this upper hand he's suddenly gained through your refusal. 
He bends, using a hand to grip the sofa behind your shoulder. Face to face, he mockingly pouts. “That's what you think of me?” 
You keep your mouth shut, hoping your gaze is burning through him.
“You said it yourself,” he leans closer to you, “you hardly know me.” 
With his face so close to your own, you hardly even feel like you can breathe, like it would be encroaching on his space. You glance between his eyes, trying your damnedest to not look anywhere else. If you looked at his lips… his pretty, plump lips… 
Fortunately, or, perhaps unfortunately, the doorknob starts rattling a few feet away from the both of you, and Seonghwa quickly leans out of the compromising position. Slipping a hand in his pocket, he stares down at you once more. “This isn’t over.” 
The door opens, but neither of you turn to greet who you know will be in the doorway. You’d have to imagine it’s quite a sight to see, the both of your staring daggers at each other, unwilling to be the first to look away. 
Hongjoong isn’t pleased by your ignorance. He slams the door behind him as he enters his apartment, and Seonghwa finally relieves you of his look. 
Your eyes only move to Hongjoong when he comes to stand next to Seonghwa, his hand resting on his bicep.
“Well, well, well,” he says, “having a lively conversation? Without me?” 
Hongjoong gently turns Seonghwa so that he’s angled to sit on the couch, pushing him down until he’s sitting right next to you. Your thighs brush. Hongjoong moves back to sit on the chair Seonghwa vacated, settling himself in before speaking again. 
“Have you had time to reflect on what happened yesterday?” Hongjoong inquires, tilting his head. He’s wearing his glasses, the overhead light reflecting off of them, obscuring his irises. “If I seemed frustrated with you, I must apologize. You have to understand that it was a very scary experience, even for myself. And I forgive you for the way that you reacted, as well.”
You squint at Hongjoong. As if you had anything to be sorry for. He’s the one that got himself all mad for no reason. He should be apologizing to San. 
But you can only imagine how this conversation will go if you continue to argue with him about the validity of the… thing. And San requested you to keep a low profile. He probably wouldn’t want you bringing up his mistreatment. So you nod a couple times, hoping that he doesn’t want you to vocalize an apology. 
“You must have been in shock,” Hongjoong continues. “Which would explain your inability to accept what had happened.” 
Nodding again, you try to figure out where he’s going with this. Does he want you to start asking questions? Does he seriously, genuinely believe that you’ve lost it, now? He can’t.
So, what? He just wants you to act like you have? He must know that it would just be a ruse, so why does he want you to go along with it so badly?
Seonghwa certainly knows that you’re not fooled, and you can expect that he told Hongjoong this after you spoke to him yesterday. Who is this act for, exactly? 
“As important as you are, it makes sense that you were targeted. The Guardians, in fact, are responsible for the loss of your predecessor.” 
Okay, so, that’s a lie. Hongjoong told you as much himself. He’s really going to go back on his word, gaslight you into forgetting what he already said? He might be able to get you to forget what he told you about Haneul, but not so soon after you found out about her. 
Haneul’s memory is alive and well in your head, despite the fact that you never met her. You owe it to her to remember the facts of her life, and her death, as best as you can. It awakens a tinge of anger in you to even hear Hongjoong so blatantly disregard her truth. He told you, to your face, that he liked you more than her. So he got rid of her. Not these “guardians” or whatever the fuck he’s trying to blame for her death. 
“The Guardians,” you say, plainly. “Are… what, exactly?” 
Hongjoong leans back in the chair, crossing his arms. “Well, there’s quite an extensive explanation in The Answer, but I suppose it could be beneficial to hear about them from me.
“The Guardians, simply put, are our antagonists. They protect the Sign, keeping it in the hands of those that oppose us. When we’re close to reaching the Sign, or when the barrier is thinner than normal, such as during a ceremony, they can appear. They’re rather frightening, and they can kill or bring Followers back to their dimension.”
… You blink at Hongjoong, remembering to nod periodically through his explanation. What are you supposed to say to that? 
“So, yesterday, then, it was trying to… kill me?” You ask, sensing that Hongjoong wants something to bounce off of. 
He tsks. “I don’t suspect kill, but rather kidnap. If they know that you’ve been Chosen, they’ll continue to target you whenever the barrier is thin. Surely they know that we would go to great lengths to recover you if they were able to steal you away.” 
Hongjoong speaks with such a conviction that you can see how people are led to believe in him. If you had a weaker mindset, his crock of shit might just make sense. Or be just scary enough to make you want to believe that he could protect you. 
“But you scared it away? Yesterday?” 
Hongjoong nods gravely, closing his eyes. “They fear my presence, thankfully. Very rarely can they stand to be in the same room as me.” 
You smile, hopefully not sarcastically. “That’s very lucky for me, then.” 
“It is,” Seonghwa cuts in, surprisingly. “Hongjoong will always be with you, so you’ll always be safe.” Even more surprising than his words, Seonghwa slides his hand into resting on your mid-thigh, assuringly squeezing you. You turn toward him with wide eyes, about to question what the hell he thinks he’s doing, when his expression makes it very clear to you that you should drop the subject. 
Bizarre. Why would Seonghwa be warning you to stop talking about what Hongjoong so clearly wants you to speak about? 
So you turn back toward Hongjoong, who’s agreeing with what Seonghwa said, seemingly oblivious to his little boyfriend’s hand on your thigh. “Is there any way to protect myself, if I am alone?” You ask instead of heeding Seonghwa’s warning. 
He squeezes your thigh harder, but you ignore it. What the hell is he trying to steer you away from? If he doesn’t want you to talk about it, surely it’s something that you’re going to want to know, right? Seonghwa can’t be looking out for you, not when Hongjoong is in the room. He has his priorities in order, and Hongjoong far outweighs yourself. 
“Great question,” Hongjoong smiles approvingly. “So long as you have a Sign of the Answer on your person, you can fend them off yourself. They revere the Sign, they won’t harm someone under its protection.”
If that’s the case… you would’ve been fine, yesterday, then. As always, you had been wearing a Sign pinned to your shirt, somewhere. Though Hongjoong would probably try to argue with you that you must have been missing it, otherwise the Guardian wouldn’t have been able to attack.
But then that also raises the question. Is kidnapping someone the same as harming them? Maybe it wouldn’t have killed you, but could it still have taken you? Assuming that Hongjoong isn’t just some very creative psycho, that is. Purely for thought exercise, you have to wonder what the Sign could really protect someone from. Was yesterday an attack? Or merely an appearance?
You sense that Seonghwa is trying to warn you away from the areas that Hongjoong doesn’t have fleshed out. For all you know, yesterday is the first time that a Guardian has ever appeared in the flesh. Hongjoong might not have prepared for every possible question that you could ask. 
The questions that you’re most curious about are things that you can’t ask him. Who did he have dressed up? How did they make that stature, that outfit, that… aura? Where was the face? Were you drugged? Was everyone drugged? Did everyone see the same thing that you did, or is everyone collectively lying to you to help their leader? Seriously, where the fuck was that thing’s face? How did they do that? If it wasn’t for that gaping maw of nothingness, you’d have a much easier time writing the entire experience off as the complete joke that you logically know it must have been. You push the thought away for now. 
“I’ll be sure to always wear my pins, then.” You motion to where you have one pinned to your collar. “I have questions about the ceremonies in general, though, Hongjoong. Can I ask a few things?” 
He motions for you to proceed, and Seonghwa’s hand doesn’t tighten its hold on you, so you do. “Will there be more sacrifices?” 
Hongjoong nods. “There’s a sacrifice for each ceremony.”
“What is the sacrifice for? To what deity?” 
A hint of exasperation crosses his face as Seonghwa slides his hand a little higher. “I’ve explained this. Sacrifices are sent to different universes as aid for our clones. There’s no God in particular the sacrifice is for, except for me.” 
“So they can even use animals, in the other universes? The situation is so dire?” 
Seonghwa pinches you instead of squeezing. Hongjoong’s exasperation melts into wry acceptance. “Yes, it is. Have you ever gone months without eating meat?” 
… Yeah, probably. But you’re not going to press him harder on the subject. “I was just curious, I didn’t mean to question you. How many more ceremonies will there be this month?”
Seonghwa’s hand doesn’t move, and it’s right about now that you’re starting to feel a little bit insane because of it. Why would he put his hand on your thigh, of all places? Why does it keep migrating upward? Why don’t you just say something to stop him? Or use your own hand to move his away? Why is the warmth of his palm seeping through your jeans so quickly? Why hasn’t Hongjoong said something yet?
“There will be one ceremony each weekend.” He says, calmer, now. “But you won’t have to participate in all of them. The most important ceremonies, the first and the last, are different and thus require the Bearer’s presence.” 
Well, that takes a bit of the pressure off, at least. Knowing that you don’t have to personally participate in every ceremony, though, no doubt, you’ll have to be present at each of them, makes you feel just a tad bit better. You have to imagine that Haseul’s Choosing ceremony will be soon… 
“Hongjoong, did I do good yesterday?” You ask, trying to feign your most innocent look. “Can I see Haseul, soon?” 
He gives you a small smile, but his answer doesn’t match it at all. “No. You made me quite mad, yesterday.”
The response is actually slightly shocking. You knew you had made him upset, but for him to vocalize it to you? To deny you seeing Haseul because of some bullshit that he orchestrated himself? 
“But—”
“No buts about it,” Hongjoong says. “You’ll be able to see Haseul once you’re behaving on a consistent basis.” 
“Won’t she have a Choosing ceremony?” You blurt, hoping that you weren’t the one to put the idea in his head. Maybe he had been planning on just keeping her locked up and not actually indoctrinating her. Had you even considered that? 
Hongjoong sighs. “I haven’t decided. Is she worthy of one?” 
What the hell does he mean ‘worthy?’ He’s seriously not going to jump at the chance to bring her in? If he wanted to, he could just kill her then and there; wouldn’t that be his dream? To end her life in front of you? Wouldn’t that just tickle his fancy? You don’t understand. 
Unless he’s taking a certain pity on her, which you highly doubt.
He must see your confusion painted plainly on your face, dismissing the thought with a wave of his hand. “It’s no matter. You’ll see her when you deserve to. Seonghwa,” —he abruptly changes the topic and his tone— “where exactly is your hand going?” 
Seonghwa’s hand flies off of you, landing promptly back into his own lap.
“That’s what I thought.” Hongjoong tuts. “Do we need to discuss the lines that must not be crossed, again?” 
You shake your head. You do not need the sex talk again from Hongjoong. God. And it's not like you were feeling him up. 
“Seonghwa, you look particularly guilty. Do you need to tell me something?”
You suspect that, if Seonghwa looks or feels guilty of something, it's not the hand on your thigh. It's the warning you to stray away from topics that could upset Hongjoong. 
But, glancing over at him, you’re surprised to see how red his face has gotten. Do you really get him going so easily? You could almost laugh, if not for the circumstances. Surely he's not so embarrassed just to have been seen with a hand on your leg. Its not like Hongjoong walked in on his hand down your pants or anything. And hadn’t he been all up in your face before Hongjoong arrived? Where’d that confident asshole go? 
Hongjoong’s presence makes all the difference, you suppose. Hopefully he's able to play off this little episode as embarrassment about touching you. If Hongjoong realizes what he was doing, he'd probably get in trouble. 
Which is still perplexing. Why had Seonghwa done that? Since when does he want to protect you? The way he's been acting, yesterday and today, just doesn't… align with the picture you have in your head. 
Seonghwa looks literally anywhere else than at you or Hongjoong, shaking his head as well. 
Slowly, he uses his hands to slide himself farther down the couch from you. Hongjoong chuckles from your opposite side, bringing you back into the reality that you temporarily abandoned. 
“That’s pathetic, Seonghwa, really.” 
Seonghwa simply looks back toward the coffee table, his face pink. Hongjoong is so harsh.
“Anyways,” Hongjoong calls your attention back towards him, “anything you want to tell me, (Y/n)? How’s San?”
This obsession with your relationship with San is infinitely annoying. What makes them think that you’re ever going to admit to what they suspect of you? 
“San is perfectly fine.” 
Hongjoong’s eyebrow twitches. “Oh? I only ask because he was rather… upset, yesterday, is all.”
“Wasn’t everyone a little upset?”
“Not so personally.” 
You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know how many different ways I can tell you that you made us live together, so it’s only natural that we care about each other.” 
“Well,” is Hongjoong’s entire response. 
The room falls into a rather uncomfortable silence. 
You look back at Seonghwa, but he’s just looking at his hands, folded in his lap, now. 
Hongjoong looks at his nail beds. 
“Are we done, then?” You ask. 
“You don’t have any more questions?” Hongjoong responds with a question, not looking up at you. 
You rack your mind for anything else. Sure, there are plenty of questions, just not ones that he would be happy to answer.
“I guess not.” 
Hongjoong looks up, flicking his eyes between you and Seonghwa. “Shall I escort you back to your apartment?” 
You look back at Seonghwa, who’s now looking between you and Hongjoong. 
“I don’t have a preference,” you say, even though you definitely do. 
“I can take her,” Seonghwa springs up, offering you his hand. 
Taking it, you also stand. “I actually have one more question, Hongjoong.”
He has to look up at you for once. He simply waits for your question while you gaze down at him.
“Is the sacrifice always an animal?”
He smiles. “More or less.”
Great. Wonderful. Perfect. You absolutely hate that response. More or less? Thats the most non-answer answer that he could've given you. And it definitely means that its not always an animal. Which makes you wonder when… and who… 
Stunned into silence, you say nothing. Neither does Seonghwa.
“Hurry back.” Hongjoong requests, dismissing the two of you without another word. 
Once you’re outside of Hongjoong’s apartment, you debate teasing Seonghwa, but decide against it. Though it would be quite fun, the poor guy is probably going to get it from Hongjoong already, no need to add to his torment. Plus, he was just trying to help you. 
He walks you in silence, again, hand-in-hand, back to your apartment. 
No sooner than you’re saying goodbye and shutting the door behind you does San appear in the entryway, grabbing for you. 
“Are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened?” He frantically asks, looking you up and down and all around, his hands flying around your limbs to check for injuries.
Stunned, you stay still. “I’m fine?” 
San sighs in relief, guiding you back toward the couch, sitting and pulling you onto his lap. “I was so worried they’d somehow found out. That you’d be hurt.” 
You shuffle around so that your back can rest against the armrest of the sofa, your legs still resting over his.
“They absolutely cannot find out, no matter what,” San says. “Can you tell me what you talked about?” 
So you explain the conversations for him, using a free hand to card through his hair as you do. He seems to relax after you’ve elaborated, though you leave out the part about Seonghwa and his hand. 
Part of you wonders if you should feel guilty about messing with Seonghwa. Not for his sake, but for San’s. What even is going on between the two of you? You probably shouldn’t be flirting with the enemy anyways, but San probably wouldn’t be overjoyed to hear about the things that have happened between yourself and Seonghwa. The fact that you leave it out when recounting the meeting must prove that you know that it’s wrong. 
“Come here,” you open your arms to him. 
He slips out from under you, realigning himself so that he can rest his head on your chest. “We’ll get out of here, together.” He wraps his arms around your waist.
You do the same, continuing to run your fingers through his hair. There’s nothing you can do but agree with him. The two of you will escape together, and soon. After that, you can forget all about this place. 
… Yeah, in your dreams. The real horror might start after you’re gone. You have to believe that San is telling the truth about Hongjoong. Revealing the cult to the authorities will only end in horror if you’re not careful. 
And you find it hard to believe that you’ll be okay once you’re gone. You’ve considered it before, the way that this sort of trauma affects someone. How long will you have to recover? Will you be able to go back to your old life? 
Will San be part of it? 
You squeeze him tighter and he reciprocates. 
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probably-writing-x · 8 months
Text
Questioning.
Summary: Hi!Love love love your writing🫶🏻🫶🏻Could you write some angst?Like where reader and Conrad argue maybe? Have a good day❣️
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You weren’t sure when the irritation had started today. It was just… one of those days. You’d woken up and there was no milk left for your coffee, and the last slice of bread had been eaten. The toothpaste was running low, too, and you had to squeeze the last remains out of it. Nobody had bothered to go to the store yet and your car was blocked in by Jere on the driveway. Someone else had already put their clothes into the laundry but hadn’t bothered to turn the machine on, and you were certain not a single person in this house would ever decide to empty the dishwasher. It was just the little things, and they were irritating when you were living in a house of this many people.
Perhaps it wasn’t any of those things causing the issue. They were just ways of you avoiding what was really stressing you. Last night, Conrad, you and the others had been at a party. You’d left early with Belly when she’d had too much to drink and the boys had stayed. It was just a party at the beach, nothing crazy, but you’d woken up to a text this morning that had turned your stomach sick.
Hey girl! Feel like I need to be honest with you, Conrad was all over Nicole last night. I’d want to know if I were you.
I’m pretty sure I saw them kiss.
Even thinking of the words again made you nauseous, they were rotating over and over in your head. All over her.
“Hey babe,” Conrad speaks softly as he comes downstairs, swinging an arm around the bannister as he turns into the kitchen.
“Hey,” You glance up, trying to scrub a stain out of the countertop.
You couldn’t look at him, too fearful that you’d break down into tears right then and there.
He comes behind you and wraps his arms around your torso. You force yourself to not tense up under his touch, letting out a shaky breath before you say;
“I need you to go to the store,” You comment.
You feel his arms slip from you, “What?”
“Jere’s boxed my car in so I can’t go but we need a whole bunch of stuff. I’ve made a list so I’ll send it to you and-“
“Good morning to you too,” Conrad practically grimaces, stepping back to lean against the counter.
“Sorry, Con, but we’ve got stuff to do today. Susannah and Laurel will be back tomorrow and you know they’ll hate it if the house is in a state.”
“I think they’ll just be glad we didn’t burn the place down,” He scoffs, crossing his arms over his torso.
You turn around and set down the cloth in your hand, wiping your hands. He raises his eyebrows at you like he’s waiting for something so you step forward and stretch up to press a kiss to his lips.
“Please,” You smile.
He narrows his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, so you kiss him again. This was normal. This was him. The boy that would never hurt you.
“Alright fine,” He agrees, opening up his arms to place them around your waist, “If you insist, your royal highness.”
“Thank you,” You force yourself to smile again, “I’ll send you the list, I’m going to clean the bathroom whilst you’re gone and then-“
“And then when I’m back we can actually enjoy our day? No more stress cleaning,” He encourages, brushing a lock of hair away from your face.
“Okay.”
He leans down and kisses your jaw, once twice three times before stepping away from you to grab his keys. He’d never hurt you. This boy would never hurt you.
“Send me that list!” He calls back to you, disappearing around the corner.
It was all fine, right?
———
Conrad gets back an hour later, carrying in bags and bags of groceries all exactly from your list. You help him put them away and then start busying yourself with tidying up the lounge.
“(Y/n) come on, we’re going surfing,” Conrad encourages, reaching out his hand to you from where he was laying on the couch.
“I don’t-“ You clear your throat, looking away from him, “I don’t really feel like it today.”
He pushes himself up onto his elbows, “Come on, you agreed you’d be done after I got back. The other three are capable of helping too, you know? Just tell Jere to clean.”
You glance at him and quickly glance away. You couldn’t get the words out of your head, as much as you’d tried to avoid them. Everything felt so normal this morning, but it was becoming impossible to convince yourself that it couldn’t be true.
“I-“ You shake your head, tears brimming at your eyes when you look at him, “I can’t today.”
“Woah, woah, woah,” He sits up fully, “What’s going on?”
You let out a shaky breath and shake your head again, “Sorry I just… um… I think there’s dust in my eye or something.”
You hurry off into the nearest bathroom and lock the door behind you, leaning back against the locked door. You can’t fight off the tears at your eyes anymore as they start to trickle down at the corners. In the moment, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, your eyes glazed over and your lip quivering with each exhale.
When you and Conrad first got together, you’d always thought he was too good for you. You knew who he’d been with before you, and you didn’t feel anything like them. You weren’t one of the country club girls, not one of the girls who’d throw themselves at him if he gave them the chance. You just fell in love and he did too. And, as much as he reassured you that you were blind to think he was too good for you, there was always just this little piece biting at you every time you thought about it for too long. Would you ever think you were good enough for him?
You walk over to the sink and look closer at yourself in the mirror, dragging your fingers under both of your eyes to wipe away the remaining tears. Your eyes looked a little red now and your cheeks felt puffy but you ignore it, drawing your shoulders back before walking back out of the bathroom.
Your steps come to a halt when you almost bump into Conrad, stood only a metre from the door.
“(Y/n) why has Shayla just texted you?” He holds your phone out towards you, “And why does it-“
“You looked through my phone?” You question, snatching it back from him.
He scoffs, “It came up on your lockscreen, okay? I didn’t think anything of it. Until I see that it’s Shayla and she’s telling you ‘Id be worried if I were you’.”
You look down at the screen and see the message still sitting there waiting to be read. She’d be worried. Should you be?
You look back up at him, “Well, should I be?”
“Should you what?”
“Should I be worried, Con?” You return, trying to avoid the tremor in your words.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know what, forget it, I shouldn’t have said anything,” You shake your head, pushing past him to walk down the corridor.
He hurries after you and his hand reaches out to grab your arm, turning you around, “No, talk to me (y/n). Why did Shayla text you that?”
As you turn around, it doesn’t feel like the same Conrad looking back at you, but it only lasts for a second. His face is so full of worry you’re sure he could break there and then.
“Wh-“ You stop yourself, “What happened after I left last night? At the party, what happened?”
He frowns, his eyes looking between each of yours, “What are you talking about?”
“Tell me what happened.”
He blinks like he’s completely lost but continues, “Okay, you left with Belly. We got a few more drinks, Steven rang Taylor, Jere saw this guy he hooked up with last summer, the keg ran out and it got cold, we walked home.”
You purse your lips together, “Nothing else?”
“(Y/n) if you think something happened I’d rather you just say it because I can’t think of a-“
“Were you with Nicole?”
He raises his brows, “Nicole?” He practically scoffs over her name, “You can’t be serious.”
“Answer the question, Conrad.”
“Okay, yes, I saw her there,” He shrugs, “I didn’t realise that was an important part of the story, I saw her, we said hello, I didn’t see her for the rest of the night.”
You swallow the lump in your throat and pull out your phone with shaking hands, unlocking it and pushing it into his hands, “That’s not what it seemed like to Shayla.”
His eyes scan quickly to read the message and you watch his shoulders drop.
“Is it true?” You ask shakily, tears brewing once again.
“(Y/n)…”
For a second, you’re convinced he’s going to admit to everything and you’re going to feel your heart break beyond words.
“Is this really what you think of me?”
You stop before speaking again, “Conrad I woke up this morning to that text and I-“
“And you believed it?” He half laughs over the word.
“Why wouldn’t I believe it Conrad?” You exclaim, your words catching in your throat.
Conrad pauses.
“I know how things were when you were with Nicole. They were easy and fun and you didn’t have to think about anything. I’m not like that,” You shake your head, biting your lip to stop it from trembling, “I know I’m not who people expect you to be with and I know this isn’t… I just know that people see you with Nicole and they think that’s who it should be, not me.”
“(Y/n),” He looks at you so strongly you’re sure you could crumble, “I chose you. I chose this. And I still choose this. Every single fucking day I choose this. Why can’t you see that?”
“I just… I can’t get the thought of you and her out of my head.”
He laughs, “There is no me and her! There was no me and her last night! But if this is what you think of me (Y/n) then this is a really sad conversation.”
Before you can speak, he swallows the lump in his throat and walks past you, his shoulder bumping yours. You listen to his footsteps receding until the door slams and he’s gone.
Without another thought, every emotion spills from you, dropping to the floor as you sob.
In seconds, the bedroom door opens and Jere and Belly step out, both of them crouching down to wrap you in their arms, holding onto you as much as they were holding you up.
———
You leave the house almost an hour later, forcing yourself out of bed and down towards the short walk to the beach. On your way, you’re already certain that that’s where he’ll be. The place that made him think more clearly. The place where he’d first kissed you.
As you expect, Conrad’s sat just a little way down on the sand, his knees at his chest and his arms draped over them, a burgundy hoodie wrapped around him.
You sit down without a word and his eyes look up from the sea to watch as you do so, following you down until you’re beside him.
Both of you are silent, neither of you willing to break that just yet.
“I’m sorry Con,” You exhale, “I shouldn’t have just jumped to conclusions.”
He shakes his head, looking out at the moving sea, “I should be apologising.”
“What do you have to be sorry for?” You feel the lump form in your throat, as if part of you is so sure he’s about to admit to your worst nightmare.
“I would never cheat on you (Y/n). I’d never even think about looking at another girl like that,” He explains, “But if I’ve made you feel like there’s even the slightest possibility that that’s something I’m capable of, then I’m doing something wrong. Because you shouldn’t feel like that. And you shouldn’t have felt like that today.”
“Con it’s not your fault.”
“It is my fault,” He returns, “Why do you think I would cheat on you?”
You take a deep breath, reaching out to take his hand into yours, watching him visibly relax at the contact, “I love you Connie, and I always have, and you’ve made me feel loved since the first day you kissed me and every day since. But, even with us together, there’s always this part of me that’s so sure I’m just… not enough. And that one day you’ll realise that too. And that’s not you, or Shayla or Nicole or anyone that’s causing that, it’s just me.”
“But (Y/n) I-“
“I know,” You squeeze his hands, “I know you might think it’s stupid and you might think you need to be doing more but it’s just… sometimes it’s hard to believe that you feel that way about me.”
He shifts in his spot so that he’s facing you, reaching both of his hands out to cup your face, “I love you, (Y/n) (Y/l/n). And I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll spend the rest of my life if it takes that long for you to be sure of that. Do you understand me?”
You let out a laugh and tears prick at the sides of your eyes, his thumbs shifting instantly to catch the tears as they fall.
“Now how could I not love you?” He grins, leaning in until his forehead presses against yours.
You rest there for a while, as if you’re breathing in every ounce of love he can offer you, letting out an exhale of every worry of the day.
“Do I love you?” Conrad raises his eyebrows.
You giggle, “You love me.”
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blakeswritingimagines · 9 months
Text
The Vow
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Summary: Being married to the rouge prince was no easy task at least most thought so, being his wife and best friend did nothing but make everyday of your life better and better....until you forget all about him
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Word count: 4.4k
You softly groaned as you stretched in the large bed that had enough room for what might be a small feast, until you rolled over onto your other side and slowly opened your eyes seeing your husband who was often nothing but a brute cuddled up to your side also slowly waking up which caused you to smile to yourself. Lightly dragging your fingertips across his pale skin taking in the slow tender moment before your days were started even if you knew you could go see him throughout the day.
He felt your fingers on his skin and stir, his eyes remaining shut as he leaned in slightly and bury his face in your neck. Scenting your skin, he savours your presence while he still can, before eventually opening his eyes. "Hello." He nuzzled your shoulder. Daemon smiled as your fingers traced his skin. It was a soft way to wake up, rather than the way he was normally woken up. He rolled his hand around searching to take your hand in his own. "We could stay here like this, you know." Daemon spoke softly to you, his hand tracing your face.
Feeling your eyes flutter shut at your husband's tender touch not able to help the smile that brightened due to his words, shaking your head knowing as much as you loved to stay put in his arms wasting the day away together you knew you both would be far to busy and everyone would never let up about needing something from one or the other "I love the way you think my darling, you know I'll be around when you need attention just come simply find me." Daemon sighed, knowing you were right. He rolled on top of you, giving you a kiss upon your lips. "Oh don't you worry, my love, your Daemon will find you wherever you are." He spoke in an amusingly formal tone, his hands now moving down your body.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders smiling up at him, kissing him back softly as you enjoyed the feeling of his firm lips against your own then smiled at his words "I know you will...you always do my Daemon". Giving him another sweet kiss on the lips as you felt his rough hands move across your body before you slowly pushed him up as you sat up "I'm not falling for another five minutes today my love." Daemon laughed slightly at your tease but he was still slightly on the offensive. He pushed you back down to the bed and laid next to you. "You sure? Seems to me like you're enjoying this very much." Daemon spoke with a bit of a smirk on his face, his eyes tracing your bare body. I am a lucky man. He thought.
You sighed playfully as you were forced to lay back down as you looked up at him, nodding your head happily as you cupped his face in a delicate manner "I always enjoy being with you, but we're meant to be busy today my darling". Doing your best to not wrap your arms around him and simply go back to sleep as you attempted to sit up once more. Daemon sighed slightly but made no effort to hold you down this time. Instead he leaned over you once more, planting a soft kiss on your lips once more. "Fiiiine, my love." Daemon said in a playful tone, before leaning back and rolling over to get dressed. "I suppose I should probably get out of this bed…I'm sure that our duties have been waiting too long." Daemon spoke, as if the prospect of dealing with all of his affairs was already a headache.
Laughing as you kissed him back once more before finally getting up and getting dressed, working like a well oiled machine along side of him as he helped you tighten your gown before you tenderly helped him get dressed after being married for so long neither of you saw need for servants anymore. gently cupping his face in your hands as you smiled then pulled him close as you placed kisses all over his face only ending with placing a kiss on his forehead "Only for a few hours I promise love, I believe you can handle that much." Daemon laughed as you kissed him all over and placed one upon his forehead. "I suppose I can handle it, but only if I get to return here when we have some time." He said with a sly smile, his hands still resting on you. Daemon loved being married to you, and he would want nothing more than to spend every waking moment of his life with you, but for now he needed to return to his duties. Perhaps you can help me with some of them…afterwards. Daemon smiled to himself.
Daemon laughed as you dressed him and then put more kisses on him. You were such a tender woman and Daemon loved your touch, your kisses. "I don't think I'll be able to survive such a long separation." Daemon said, his mouth in a small smirk as he placed his hands upon your face. He kissed you back, lingeringly this time. "Perhaps we can escape just a few more minutes…" Daemon whispered against your lips. You leaned into his touch as your eyes closed taking in the comfortable feeling of being wrapped in his arms, looking up at him as you kissed him back lovingly before taking your time to pull away as you looked into his violet eyes and smiled "I said I wasn't falling for it" You spoke before giving him a few quick kisses before you had started walk out of the room ready to start your day so you could finish early and be back beside him as if you both were still newlyweds.
Daemon's face widened at your smirk, as if you were teasing him. Which he supposed you were. "Oh, my sweet lady wife of mine, why are you so cruel?" Daemon said in jest, as if you were actually doing anything wrong by leaving him. "I miss you already." Daemon would tease back as he did not pursue you, for he knew you would return. You always did after all. You couldn't help but laugh at your husband's playful words as you walked away from him knowing he was going to be even more dramatic, going about your day making sure your focus was only on the work in front of you even going out of your way to help Rhaenyra a little bit as the two held a small awkward conversation. Going outside toward the dragonpit seeing your baby Saphira taking some time to yourself as you got fresh air on top of the large beast going into the air with a smile on your face at least before your dragon turned which left you unstable as you fell hitting your head and blacking out as the workers quickly got help.
Daemon was in the middle of some sort of royal affair or meeting with important lords and ladies. It wasn't that terribly important, it was just something he had to do to make sure the realm was properly run. He would get the most important tasks done earlier in the day as to not disrupt his wonderful schedule. Daemon was just stepping out of his chamber for the day when he spotted something unusual. He saw one of the dragon keepers carrying out a woman who had seemingly been knocked out. His curiosity was piqued at first but he quickly turned to concern as he rushed to your side after noticing it was you.
"What in the seven hells happened?" He asked the keeper as he took you away from him. As he spoke to you he lightly grasped your hand, hoping you would wake up soon as your consciousness was all he cared about at this moment in time. The workers all stiffened once the rouge prince especially knowing how protective Daemon was over you, clearing their throats as well as sharing looks before one finally spoke up "She said she wanted some fresh air with Saphira but the next thing we knew she had hit her head and passed out" Not wanting to be on the bad end of the prince's rage they knew to take anything with you seriously even with hitting your head and now as a maester was going to look you over.
"And you just left her alone?" Daemon questioned. "Saphira?" He asked, looking to see if the dragon had attacked you. He knew the dragon would do no such thing, but he wanted to cover all his bases. He knelt by your side and felt your forehead, hoping it was nothing serious. "Please dear, wake up." Daemon whispered, his voice laden with anxiety as he felt your hand. The workers shrugged having been tending to the other dragons while you were with Saphira "We figured she'd be fine, the dragon is fine nor does Saphira seem as if anything happened", Helping take you to the maesters where they laid you down and left as the maester started checking and looking over you better after getting the details of what happened.
Daemon's face was full of worry as he stood beside your unconscious form. He couldn't help but feel guilty. His mind raced as he wondered how he could have left you alone and this happen. I have failed to keep her safe. Daemon whispered to himself. Daemon's heart seemed to skip a beat when the maester was checking you. Not knowing if you were even alive or not. When you were being treated he waited alongside you, just watching you in anxious anticipation for you to open your eyes. After enough time passed the maester sighed before looking over at you with a slight shake of his head as he spoke "She's still breathing but might be out for longer due to the heavy hit to the head, it might take some time but I'm unaware of how long."
Daemon was relieved to find out that you were still breathing. He was in a position of power and yet he couldn't do anything for you. All he could do was wait. Daemon looked at you, watching your gentle features and waiting for you to wake up. Daemon's hand caressed you gently, he hoped you couldn't feel it in your state but he wanted it to anyway. Weeks passed of not much changing nor did anyone attempt to mention perhaps it was best to let go especially with how angry the prince had become, that not even his brother Viserys or Rhaenyra could help calm him down like you often did but once you slowly opened your eyes with a heavy breath as you slowly looked around confused even as the maester came to check on you as your voice came out hoarse "Where am I?".
Daemon rushed to his feet as your eyes reopened. "Y/n! Thank all seven gods you are alive." Daemon spoke with a mix of relief, happiness and guilt. "The gods are merciful today, I thought I had lost you." Daemon said with a breath of relief. "You're on King's Landing, the seat of House Targaryen. You got hit in the head and I've been here for weeks waiting for you." Daemon admitted, feeling nothing but shame for himself. You looked over at the tall man as you winced feeling as if his voice was echoing in your head heavily, tilting your head slightly as you tried to process his words but shook your head not remembering anything as you tried to recall what you were last doing especially hearing you had been out for weeks now "Who are you? and why am I in King's Landing?".
Daemon felt the blood drain from his face. You didn't remember him? You were joking. He looked at you, waiting for you to crack a smile and start laughing. It never came. Daemon slowly moved towards you, taking your hand gently. "My love, I am Daemon Targaryen. We have been married for years now. Your life, it's only just started. But… You don't remember anything?" Daemon questioned, his voice filled with panic. You continued to look at him curiously as you listened closely and tried to place him somewhere you might remember him, feeling bad that he seemed so hurt out about you not knowing him but shook your head as you pulled your hand away from his "No I'm sorry, all I remember is taking a walk than everything went black" Not knowing you had lost years of your life but looked over at the maester who started asking you questions to see what you could remember before he looked over at Daemon scared of his reaction "She has a small case of amnesia."
Amnesia is a kind word for what you have. Daemon thought to himself, his anxiety increasing. He didn't handle the news that you didn't remember him as the man had hoped. Daemon took a moment to gather himself from your sudden news. "Amnesia?" Daemon asked the maester, ignoring the explanation initially. He looked at you, his eyes wide with concern and even a twinge of fear. "My lady wife… Please tell me you remember my name at least." Daemon asked, his voice full of need. You slowly sat up with a small groan of pain as you gently rubbed your head feeling a dull but painful throb, looking up at him once more as you tried to really look at him from his lilc eyes, platinum hair, tall and strong build, only to shake your head again "No I really don't know who you are". Listening as the maester spoke up about how it might take some time for you to feel better but it might do you some well to continue getting rest.
Daemon could feel his heart sink into his stomach. You didn't remember him… You had lost your memory. "You don't know me?" Daemon questioned again. He couldn't believe that that was truly an option. His head was reeling, what did this mean? How does he deal with this? As the maester continued to talk Daemon listened but the words hardly registered in his brain. Slowly he reached his hand out, holding your hand once more. He was not going to let you go again. During the next few days, you had been moved into your own private chambers since you felt weird being alone with Daemon still not remembering him, opting to even sit next to Rhaenyra more even if you couldn't remember her or Viserys who seemed nice when you did talk to him but also who had pushed your work onto someone else in the meantime. Sitting down at the dining table with them all as you bowed your head for prayer waiting until it was done before you started eating feeling excited that Rhaenyra and yourself would be hanging out.
Daemon sat at the table with you and Rhaenyra, his eyes on you at all times. As you prayed Daemon did the same, taking some time to himself pleading witht the gods new or old to hear him. It was good to see your face smiling, even if you didn't remember him. As all of you sat down to eat Daemon kept looking at you, still hoping you would suddenly remember him and everything that had transpired during your marriage. He hoped that deep down he had left his mark on you. That his memory was buried deep within you and only needed to be uncovered. Speaking with Rhaenyra as if nothing was wrong even as the blonde princess agreed that you were married to her uncle, doing your best to go about your routine each day you woke up only to have to ask servants what it was you normally did which often left one of the Targaryens to be told as they stepped in to help you like a small child. Glancing up as you chewed on your food only to see Daemon watching you which caused you to look down at your plate as your brows furrowed "Do you always watch me so closely?".
Daemon smiled softly at your observation, it was as if you were beginning to return your wits even if it was slowly. Daemon had been watching you closely, for you were a puzzle piece he didn't understand. Your amnesia was just a road block that Daemon was determined to overcome. "Of course I do." Daemon said with a smirk, his eyes looking to you, his wife. "It's only natural that I desire to stare at my beautiful wife." Daemon said with a flirtatious tone, hoping to earn some sort of reaction from you. You nodded your head slightly at his words as you squirmed around in your seat slightly instead of flirting back with him like usual, getting up with Rhaenyra once you both finished eating as Rhaenyra gently took you by the hand leading you around as she did most of the talking unless you had questions even as Rhaenyra started to enjoy spending time with you wondering why it had taken so long and you getting hurt for it to happen.
Daemon took notice at your change in demeanor, it seemed as if you were less inclined to flirt and be cheeky when compared to your normal self. You didn't even remember the man you married. It was concerning but Daemon wasn't entirely bothered by it. He felt almost as if you were a new woman to woo, to earn. Daemon wasn't opposed to the idea of winning you over once more. He watched Rhaenyra take you by the hand and lead you away, the two of you looking almost as if you were friends. "Have we found you the perfect friend now?" Daemon asked with a smirk. You looked at Rhaenyra once you felt a nudge in your side and realized he was talking to you, nodding your head as you smiled even if you didn't recall the friendship between yourself and the princess "Rhaenyra has been very helpful with helping me and my day-to-day basics." Having even been spending more time with Viserys as he helped reteach you everything you did before since he had grown to like your way best even if others had an issue with it "She and Viserys have been teaching me about the Targaryen family tree apparently I use to be able to say everyone in order with no mistakes."
Daemon nodded at your words with a soft smile. "I'm glad to see you have company. And the knowledge of the family tree will certainly come with time. You are my wife after all." Daemon said, his voice dripping with flirting even in the presence of his family. He gave you a kiss upon the hand then turned to Rhaenyra. "Keep a close eye upon her and keep her safe." Daemon told Rhaenyra, the tone in his voice a more sincere one. He felt comfortable knowing you were in Rhaenyra's care. You nodded your head feeling good that everyone seemed happy with your progress even if you were still missing so much of your life, watching him closely before pulling your hand away from him as Rhaenyra nodded her head at his words almost offended that he would think she'd let anything happen to you. The two women started walking away as Rhaenyra led you to the gardens feeling the quiet might help as you bit down on your lower lip and looked over at Rhaenyra "Can I ask you something? it's about Daemon himself."
Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow at your request but she shrugged. "Yes, of you course you may." She said with an open smile, curious as to what curiosity you may ask of her. Daemon, as usual, was also listening in on this conversation. He wanted to know what you wanted to know of him. Maybe it was something he could use to slowly get you back on track to remembering him. Sighing but nodded your head happy that the princess had been nothing but easy-going as she helped you remember things, looking down at the ground as you tried to piece your words together before shrugging your shoulders as the words tumbled out past your lips "I've heard...unsavory things about Daemon, that he's quite a brute and has done unspeakable things....is that true?".
Rhaenyra thought for a moment, unsure of how much to tell you. Daemon was her best friend, but he was also her uncle. She did not know how to answer your questions, because honestly, they weren't completely false. Rhaenyra looked for a way to answer without making Daemon seem like a terrible person. "Daemon can be very stubborn." Rhaenyra started, "Sometimes he let's his anger get the best of him. But that's only when he is pushed too far. But what is most important, is that he loves you." Rhaenyra said. You nodded with a small pout on your lips at the answer thinking it over as you recalled some of the things Daemon had done from what you've heard, looking over at the blonde woman again as you shrugged your shoulders at her words "How did we even get together? it sounds like we're nothing but polar opposites, how do he and I even work together in marriage?" Having been too embarrassed and shy to go to Daemon with these questions even if he would be the best person to answer them.
"You two have always been very different, but that's what has drawn you two together." Rhaenyra said with a smile. She believed it too, the differences in Daemon and you were what created the bond between you two. "He may be quite gruff, but he has the softest spot in the Kingdom for you." Rhaenyra said, hoping the words would make you feel better. They were true, Daemon loved you in a way he loved no one else, not even Rhaenyra or his brother Viserys. You slowly nodded along as you listened closely to the words feeling like you were listening to a fariytail, feeling your eyes sting with tears at the thought of Daemon being so tender and you couldn't remember any of it you let out a soft sigh, and nodded your head feeling determined "I want to remember, I'm gonna need more stories about him."
Rhaenyra chuckled at your need for stories which she was not opposed to. "You'll definitely need to remember your wedding to Daemon." She said with enthusiasm. "It was the grandest affair ever. What else do you want to know?" Rhaenyra asked, eager at the idea that your memory might return soon. "I would be more than happy to share anything you want to know." She continued, with a smile on her face. She believed that Daemon deserved to have you back at least. During the next few weeks, You had been learning more about your life and your marriage with Daemon even going as far as to show him small bits of affection, slowly but surely you began to push other's help away wanting to do things for yourself and show you could do it again but kept growing curious as to small gifts for you or being shocked by grand plans before learning it was from Daemon which caused you to seek him out.
Daemon was happy that you were showing him small bits of affection. He knew he would have to earn your love all over again but small touches were good. As you grew curious of gifts and grand plans Daemon was only too glad to tell you whom was behind them. He felt you were beginning to return to him bit by bit, and he wanted nothing more. Daemon felt at ease when you were back with him, and you were beginning to spend more time with him and less time away. It gave Daemon a new sense of hope. You had thanked Dameon for all the sweet and tender gestures he had been giving or showing you, which you found hard to keep the butterflies in your stomach under control but had been doing well as you were still learning more and more only getting curious about certain things but had been spending more time with Rhaenyra and Viserys both of which only now continued talking Daemon up even as you joined Rhaenyra late into the night talking about most things.
Daemon was over the moon to see that little by little you were remembering him and your life with him. He was always so cautious about his love, but as of late Daemon had felt nothing but comfort and happiness when with you. His smiles had become much more frequent. You were back in his life and Daemon was thankful for it. It was the small things that Daemon noticed, seeing how you would speak with confidence, laugh a little more freely, it all added up in his mind. He was on the verge of getting you back. He was certain of it. You rested your head against your arms listening to Rhaenyra speak about all different things, feeling your curiosity grow at mention of something that sounded familiar to you and asked about it which caused the blond princess to explain in detail that it was something connected to Daemon and yorself. Letting out a sharp gasp as your eyes shut tightly and you held your head as the pain from when this all started seemed to be the worst you had ever dealt with even as the blond princess tried asking if you were alright only taking a few minutes before nodding your head as you stood up with no explanation going back to the chambers you once shared with Daemon and opened the door as you stood there shocked and tears in your eyes softly whispering.
"I remember."
523 notes · View notes
niki-phoria · 3 months
Note
Can we get some headcanons or short little blurbs on how enha would comfort m!reader when he can't sleep? Could be established relationships or not! Romantic or platonic, it's up to you!
ALL THE WAYS I GOT TO KNOW YOUR PRETTY FACE AND ELECTRIC SOUL
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enha comforting their insomniac boyfriend !!
male reader (he/him pronouns used)
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HEESEUNG
“why are you still up?” heeseung’s voice cracks slightly; each word drips with the remnants of sleep. stray strands of his disheveled hair stick up at odd angles, making you chuckle beneath your breath. 
“i can’t sleep,” you reply, turning to lay on your side. heeseung sighs, reaching over to pull you into his hold as if it’s second nature. he allows his eyes to flutter closed as you lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. 
heeseung’s arms wrap comfortably around your waist, tugging your body even closer until there’s no space left between you. your legs tangle together beneath your blankets; your arms find a home resting lazily across heeseung’s chest. 
a comfortable silence falls over your bedroom once again, only interrupted by the occasional whirr of the dorm’s heater turning on and blasting hot air throughout the vents. your eyes wander around heeseung’s room, taking in the details despite the darkness obscuring your view: the notebooks filled with half-finished songs laid across his desk. the deer plush you had won for him from an arcade claw machine. your jacket lying carefully laid across the back of his chair as if to preserve the fabric as opposed to the variety of heeseung’s own clothing haphazardly thrown across the room without care.
heeseung hasn’t moved since he first pulled you to lay on his chest, but you can tell he’s still awake. his breathing isn’t as deep as it should be and he snores - no matter how much he refuses to admit it. 
“you should get some rest,” you murmur, finally breaking the prolonged silence once again. 
“so should you,” he replies. your protests die on your tongue when heeseung shifts to look down at you. he softly smiles as he trails his fingertips along the curve of your jaw. “just close your eyes. i’ll be here when you wake up.”
JAY
jay lets out a disgruntled groan when he’s shaken awake, squinting at you through tired eyes. he blinks a few times at you in the darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust. “what is it?” he mumbles. 
“i can’t sleep.” 
a beat of silence passes. you study jay’s expression, waiting for any sort of reaction from the other man. the numerous apologies lingering on the tip of your tongue are stolen away when jay leans in, pressing a feather-light kiss to your lips. his touch is gone just as soon as it’s there. you find yourself resisting the urge to follow his lips when he pulls away. 
“come here,” he finally mumbles, opening his arms as an invitation. you accept it immediately, shuffling across the bed until your body is pressed against jay’s. leaning your head against his chest, jay tucks his chin against the top of your head. “close your eyes.” 
you obey, letting your eyes flutter closed and nuzzling yourself even closer to him. “i found a new recipe today,” jay murmurs. his hands slip underneath the hem of your t-shirt, rubbing miscellaneous shapes into your bare skin. “i think you would like it. jungwon offered to help me go shopping and prepare some of the ingredients.”
jay pauses when a deeper, longer breath escapes you. he smiles when he feels your body relax against his chest; the stress and worry of the day leaves you in waves until only the boy he fell in love with so long ago remains. 
leaning down, jay presses a chaste kiss against your temple. “sweet dreams, love,” he murmurs into the dark before he closes his own eyes, letting sleep overtake him once more.
JAKE
jake is annoyed. it’s painfully obvious, from the way his eyebrows furrow in confusion to his small frown as if he’s still in disbelief about being woken up so suddenly. he squints at you in the darkness; his face shines silver from the moonlight seeping in through your still-open blinds. the light is just barely enough to illuminate your features. 
his face relaxes almost as soon as his tired eyes meet your wide-awake ones. his voice is deep and raspier than usual - the last remaining remnants of sleep still dripping like honey from each word. “what’s wrong?”
“i can’t sleep,” you murmur in return. jake hums, shifting slightly so his body just barely brushes against your own. he smiles softly when you slide across the covers, wrapping your arms around him. 
you rest your head against his chest, just above his sternum; he can feel you angle yourself so you can hear his steady heartbeat beneath your ears. jake rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling as if the perfect remedy will somehow engrave itself into the drywall above. 
thankfully, you already seem to have one. “sing for me?”
he bites back a soft chuckle in favour of looking downwards. jake’s gaze studies your face; his eyes trail down the slope of your nose and linger on your plump lips just a little longer than necessary. “do you have any requests?” he finally asks.
“no,” you hum, nuzzling yourself even closer to him. even with the fabric of his shirt separating your skin, jake can feel the heat radiating off of your body. it makes his heart race and cheeks flush no matter what he does his best to disguise the feeling. jake nods into the darkness. a beat of silence passes before he begins, voice quietly filling the space of your otherwise silent bedroom. “it’s like a polaroid love. love, that old-fashioned feeling but my heart is racing. why am i like this?”
SUNGHOON
“are you okay?” you nearly jump at the quiet whisper from the man beside you, forcibly ripping you away from your swirling thoughts and bringing you back into reality. 
“i’m fine,” you finally sigh, rolling over to face him. “just can’t sleep.” 
sunghoon hums, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair away from your face. your heart rate picks up when his hand falls to your shoulder, gently trailing his fingertips against the junction of your neck and shoulder. 
the quiet breath of relief that escapes you in response is embarrassing - mortifying, even. you freeze almost immediately, suddenly overly thankful for the darkness concealing both your embarrassment and sunghoon’s reaction.
he doesn’t immediately pull away like you’re expecting. instead, he breaks the silence with yet another whisper. “you’re tense.” another beat of silence passes before his hands are on your chest, pushing you onto your back. “roll over.”
your questions die on the tip of your tongue as you silently obey. sunghoon’s hands just barely brush against your skin as he gently presses his palm against the center of your back. he waits for a second before he presses the pads of his fingertips into the tense muscles in your shoulders. 
you softly sigh in response, letting him continue his ministrations. with no complaints leaving your lips and the stress all but dripping off of you, sunghoon continues. he shifts, pushing himself up to get a better angle. his touch becomes more confident; his hands apply more pressure, slowly relieving the stiffness from your body. 
sunghoon’s movements pause when he notices your breathing has slowed. your soft snores occasionally break the silence. smiling to himself, sunghoon leans in to press a chaste kiss against the back of your shoulder blade. “goodnight, y/n.”
SUNOO
“can’t sleep?” sunoo asks, quietly slipping into the kitchen. you acknowledge his presence with a glance over your shoulder and a soft sigh leaving your lips. 
sunoo leans against the counter beside you, studying your features. the dim kitchen light paints the entire room in a golden glow - one that he’s only used to seeing during quiet mornings when he studies your relaxed features for just a little too long. 
this time, the light only seems to illuminate the exhaustion present on your features. your shoulders are stiff, even as you lean against the counter for support. sunoo can clearly read just how desperate you are to rest, and just how difficult your mind is making it to actually get some.
“i’m sorry,” he finally murmurs. the quietness of his voice is almost overpowered by the whistle of the kettle beside you.
you offer a soft, sad smile in response. your shoulders sag as you sigh, letting your eyes flutter shut for a second. “it feels like i’ve tried everything.”
“i know.” sunoo’s mind races, searching for any sort of reassurance that will make you feel better. unfortunately, he still hasn’t found any by the time you’ve poured two cups of tea, sliding one across the counter to him. 
sunoo accepts it with a grateful smile, resting his cold hands against the warm ceramic. “can i do anything to help?”
there’s a beat of silence just long enough to make sunoo reconsider his words before you speak once again. “i don’t want to be alone right now.”
sunoo reaches up, resting his hand against your cheek. your eyes flutter closed at the contact; your body instinctively relaxes against his hand. sunoo’s thumb brushes against the dark circles staining the skin beneath your eyes before finally settling against your cheek. “then i’ll stay with you.”
you smile softly, reaching up to take his hand into your own. sunoo’s cheeks burn brightly when you press a gentle kiss against his wrist. “thank you.”
JUNGWON
“what do you usually do when you can’t sleep?” 
you let a quiet sigh escape your lips, shaking your head in defeat. turning onto your side to face him, you catch one of jungwon’s hands into your own. “i just wait until it passes.” 
he frowns softly. he remains quiet for a moment as you begin to play with his hands, trailing your fingers along the ebbs and flows of his knuckles. his hands feel soft against your own, even when you reach the calluses on his palms.
you nearly startle when he softly gasps, eagerly pulling his hand away from your own. you watch in confusion as he quickly stumbles over to his desk, grabbing his computer before sliding into bed beside you. 
“what are you doing?” 
jungwon’s smile grows as he sets his now-open computer down in the space between you. his fingers fly across the keys as he logs in before opening netflix, clicking through a variety of tv shows and movies until he finds what he was looking for. 
wrapping his arms around your waist, jungwon tugs you to lay back down before he makes himself comfortable against your chest. you can all but feel the excitement radiating off of him as he curls up beside you. “just watch,” he says, gesturing towards the opening credits. 
you only listen to him for a second, watching as the opening credits fade to black before the screen lights up once again, illuminating the dark room in a glow of colour. “we’re watching a movie?”
“it’s your favourite,” jungwon hums. 
you can feel your face flush despite your best efforts. jungwon has always known exactly how to fluster you, you suppose. “thank you,” you whisper. reaching over, you push a stray strand of hair back into place.
jungwon���s only response comes in the form of a soft smile and a chaste kiss pressed against your jaw before he lays back down in his rightful place - lying comfortably on your chest.
NIKI
niki startles awake with a sigh, glancing over at you with an accusatory glare. “stop stealing the blankets,” he sleepily mumbles, tugging the fabric covering both of your bodies until you’re both covered once again.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper, pushing even more of the duvet to his side. “i didn’t mean to wake you.”
niki props himself up on his arm, twisting around until he’s fully facing you. through the darkness, niki can just barely make out your tired features. “what’s wrong?” he asks, all venom slipping away almost as quickly as it was there. 
“i can’t sleep.” a defeated sigh escapes you as you roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. niki frowns as he shuffles a little closer to you. he moves without thinking, wrapping his arms around you and moving to rest his head against your chest. his heart beats rapidly in his chest at the minimal space between your bodies. sharing a bed had never been an uncommon experience, but neither of you had ever pushed the boundaries this much before.
niki catches his bottom lip between his teeth, anxiously awaiting your reaction. instead of pushing him off like he expected, you smile. his face flushes when you reach up, gently carding your hands through his hair. niki remains silent, simply watching as you twist his bangs between your fingers. a content sigh escapes him, making you smile in response.
“why do you like playing with my hair so much?” he finally whispers, breaking the comfortable silence. your movements pause for a second before you continue, carefully untangling his disheveled bed hair as best as you can with one hand.
“i don’t know,” you hum, gently scraping your nails against his scalp. “it’s just… relaxing, i guess. do you want me to stop?” 
“not if it helps you fall asleep,” niki replies, only half-joking as he twists to glance up at you. 
you smile in response, leaning down to press a kiss against his forehead. “sweet dreams, ki.”
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notes: i'm sorry for the lack of fics lately, i've been busy with school and i've been absolutely captivated by a fanfic i found so i haven't been writing much sknds gonna be totally honest i started running out of ideas really quickly but i loved this idea !! thank you for requesting and i hope you like it <33
if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my enha imagines or more enha reactions <3
161 notes · View notes
joonsytip · 1 year
Text
Coffee, Tea or just more of Me? || Vernon
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Pairings: Vernon x Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff, Crack, Strangers to Friends to Lovers au, Barista!Reader au, Jock!Vernon au, University au
Synopsis: Vernon thinks life has given him another chance when sees the new barista of the café he is a regular at. You think the popular jock of the university is weird for always zoning out on you. It's the same everyday, until you to decide it's enough.
Word Count: 4.5k
Warnings: nothing heavy just mentions of staring a lot, mention of murder as a joke once, kissing, mentions of lots of beverages, dramatic Seungkwan and Junhui but equally wholesome (lmk if I missed any)
Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3
A/N: Please Like, Comment and Reblog, it would really help me keep going ♡
Please send an ask or comment under the Masterlist post to get added to my permanent taglist or SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist.
[SVT Main Masterlist] [SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist]
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He is staring at you again.
An exaggerated huff stirs out of your chest and you turn to the customer who looks like he'd would faint if deprived of his iced tea one more second.
You have recently started working as a part timer at the café which is a block down from your university, no genius for guessing, to add some cash to your wallet for covering some of your expenses.
The café jostles as an extremely busy hub at afternoons. Mornings doesn't attract much of a crowd except for the zombie like students who basically live on caffeine, would undoubtedly bleed in dark brownish through veins.
You work in evening shifts and evenings attract bunch of loud and shout guys.
Today's no exception, the familiar faces flood into the place, some continuous screeching of chairs or calls of name, some hearty laughs or snarky remarks that follows before all of it simmers down.
Junhui nudges at your arm and before your questioning gaze falls on him, it lands on that one face with prominent and sharpest features, hair dyed in shades of brown those stick on his sweat glistening forehead.
His eyes are not glued on you. Finally.
You look at your shiftmate, "What?"
"I thought you finally got a break.", Junhui comments while pouring coffee powder in the brewing machine.
"A break?", you echo in confusion, "I don't recollect--"
"A break from being stared at.", Junhui cuts you off when you fail catch his humour.
The eye roll that he gets as a response has him worried that they would really roll to the back of your head someday.
"Oh my god, he's coming here", Junhui squeals, "I'll fleet inside so he thinks you're alone at the counter but I'd be peaking from behind okay?", and next he's making an abrupt run to the backside.
You breathe in, breathe out and strech your lips in a smile as you walk back to the order section.
"Hi Vernon", you greet, "Can I please know your order?"
Vernon's eyes blow wide, as he whips his head from the menu card he's holding to meet your eyes.
"H-Hi...", he's shocked, so panicked right now, "Do you know me?"
Yes, you're the one who always stares at me.
Ofcourse you know him. Everybody knows him.
The star forward of the varsity soccer team.
Chwe Vernon Hansol.
You have a motive today and that's to ask him what's his deal. The only reason for which you had purposefully spilled out his name.
"You're quite popular.", you give him a smile, "And we share the Graphical Engi--"
"We share the Graphical Engineering lecture?", he spurts out comically, as if he's hearing the most amusing or the most non sensical thing in the world and the next question confirms it, "We both go to the same uni?"
"Yeah we do.", you say somewhat dejected and your thumb hovers over the computer screen, "Your order please."
"Do we seriously share the GE lecture?", he asks one more time and you simply nod.
Not something unobvious, the times you've noticed him after entering the lecture hall, you have always found his head propped on his bag which is loaded on the desk and he's soundly sleeping.
Something obvious that he doesn't know because the two of you don't even fall into the category of acquaintances.
You know him because everyone knows him because as said he's popular.
He mouths a 'wow' and goes back to ogling the same menu card. With only you being behind the counter and no one being behind him to place orders you know he's gonna take long time just to order his regular, a Latte Macchiato.
"A Latte Macchiato please.", he says and you nod robotically.
"Anything else?", you ask out of habit and your thumb is almost pressing the confirm button for billing, knowing he never has any add ons.
"Would you like to suggest something?"
You gape at him amused.
Vernon has his expectant eyes on you and you have your comical ones on him.
"Y/N?", he asked with concern and your eyes blow wider.
Your gaze immediately drops on your uniform, no there isn't any tag of your name pinned on you.
He's not reading your name, he knows your name.
"How do you know my name?", you ask him stunned. No you are not over reacting, not when you have seen who and how hard people are trying to woo him.
Oh well, his nicknames include Geek God and DiCaprio.
Vernon thinks he has caused an accidental slip up and thinks of ways to cover it up.
"Your co-workers call you by your name, I've heard it many times.", he blurts out.
You don't buy it but you don't peer further.
It's been two weeks since you are working in the café and you hadn't even noticed him until Junhui decided to knock over your obliviousness.
It was your third shift and you were seated on the tool leisurely when Junhui came over saying.
"Vernon keeps on looking at you. I have been noticing."
"Vernon? The Geek God VERNON? Looking at me? Sure, I look funny."
That was your comment before you waved him off instantly.
Day four and you decide to observe the varsity star just to confirm the genuineness of Junhui's comments.
"He's staring at you again."
This time you pull out your pocket mirror and Junhui, the genius angles it perfectly so no one was suspecting anything and you confirmed that Vernon was really staring at you.
You didn't what to make out of his blank expression.
The next week rolled in and you were having a casual conversation with Junhui and your best friend, the best gossip pal Seungkwan.
"Oh my god, you're planning to bag Vernon--"
Seungkwan's dramatic quip stopped abruptly when you slapped your hand on his mouth.
"Nothing adds up, Kwan. He definitely stares but with the most neutral expression I have ever seen on anyone. Like he could be plotting my murder but again he could also be looking at me and thinking about Teletubbies in his head."
Junhui was almost rolling on the floor which he was supposed to mop after those words left your mouth.
"But he lingers longer when Y/N is at counter.", Junhui managed to add, "The time he spends there holding that same menu card, if it had been me, I'd have had it memorized."
Two curious pair of eyes landed on the blonde haired boy and he took his position on one of the tools as he crossed his legs and leaned back at the wall behind.
"I have been working here for over a year and trust me, Vernon never made orders. Their group have a guy called Chan, who mostly places the collective order. I think I have taken orders from almost everyone but Vernon. He never did until Y/N came."
Seungkwan was suddenly wolf whistling and doing some questionable dancing with Junhui.
But you were still concerned.
Did you anyhow do something to offend him?
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Vernon likes you, a lot.
It's not sudden, it's not prolated.
His liking towards you leads back to Cheshire, a stray cat he has been sheltering for some time.
The first time he saw you was when he decided to visit Cheshire before heading towards home after a game. You were already feeding her a can of tuna, unaware of his presence.
He watched you petting her, making funny sounds to entertain her to you sitting on the ground so that she could lay on your lap and take a nap.
Though his heart swelled and chest tinged, he watched it all with a straight face. Often misunderstood by people because of his blank stares he's tired of convincing them that it's never intentional, rather a habit by birth. He's just a bit lesser expressive that's all.
This continued for days, he would watch you play with Cheshire and waited until you left so that Cheshire could get her dose of SeroVertonin for the day.
Unknowingly, he develops a bond with you, solely from his side.
Vernon is also so grateful to you. Once Cheshire had gone missing for two days and Vernon could feel his heart plummeting to stomach, a fear creeping within him when he couldn't find her in all the places he searched.
He had given up but still visited the place in hopes of seeing her. He could vividly remember the pang in his chest when he saw her again inside the shelter with a note stuck on one of the bricks.
Hi,
I found her by an alleyway that's really far from here. She's safe so don't worry. Thanks for providing her a shelter.
Vernon still keeps the note in his wallet.
The day he decided to introduce himself to you was the day you stopped showing up. And he had no way to reach up to you except for waiting.
He gradually gave up with lots of regret and longing until he saw you again at the café.
Always been asked out, never have asked someone out person Vernon was at loss of words and actions. With no idea how to approach you, he sorted back to his same old habit.
While you indulged in different activities, he indulged himself in watching you, unaware that you have caught onto it.
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Next day during GE lecture, you are scribbling down the notes in a questionable handwriting knowing you won't be able to decipher a word out of it later.
When the professor excuses himself out of the hall for some sudden priority work you could sense someone's gaze on you.
Quickly whipping your head and sweeping glances across the hall makes your gaze meets with Vernon's.
Oh, how could you not guess it.
He's flustered when he looks away and next he's grabbing his bag and skipping down the stairs to fleet out of the class.
But your sprint to catch him is faster than the Cheetahs.
"Vernon!"
You call out at the corridor and now every living object in the area is looking at you, waiting for another proposal - rejection episode.
Suddenly you feel small, having those curious eyes, mocking smiles pivoted at you.
Vernon notices your flickering gaze and he doesn't like the creases between your brows.
In three large strides, he covers the distance between two of you and before you could comprehend the situation, his loud voice reaches your ears.
"You didn't have to run so hard for returning my pen.", he's eyeing the pen in your hand, "But I'll take it because you have a habit of loosing them."
The murmurs are loud as others try hard to understand the dynamics you both share.
A glare in sweeping gaze from the jock causes the whispers to simmer down and the crowd regain it's mobility again.
"Thanks",you peer ar him, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"
Vernon thinks he should be run away. His heels are hot and his mind is calculating precs for a run but his heart wants to listen to you.
This time the heart prevails.
As Vernon follows you to the emptier section of the corridor, you think you'd get indigestion from the venomous glares you are accumulating throughout.
"Have I done something to upset you?"
Your question catches him off guard.
When he doesn't respond you throw a follow up, "I'm sorry if I'm wrong but I have seen you staring at me for past days."
Vernon cheeks blush up in pink tint as his gaze falls down. He's biting his lip and shaking his head.
You know his having a conversation in his head but right now you want to be a part of it.
"I won't be judging you if that's what you're worried about.", you assure him, "I just want to know if I have ever unintentionally caused you trouble in any possible way."
Time is elapsing but you wait with all the patience. Vernon seems distressed and you feel bad for this sudden counter you have roped him into.
"I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable.", he says in a calm and assuring voice, "That wasn't my intention. It's just, I always have this poker face on and people feel, well, how you're feeling right now.", he laughs but you could feel the strain behind the words.
"I have been searching for you so long and now that I've found you, as cheesy as it sounds", his lips curl up the slightest almost making no difference to the previous neutral expression but this time you notice the gleam in his eyes as he says, "I can't take my eyes of you."
Your heart skips a beat. Damn Vernon for being so smooth.
"Cheshire misses you.", and he adds suddenly so now nothing is making sense to you.
"What do you mean by that? Do we know each other from before? Who's Cheshire?"
Vernon chuckles and he's pulling out his phone to show you his device wallpaper.
Your hand fly to your mouth in shock when you recognise whom Vernon is refering to.
"I also miss her.", You say with a stain of longing in your voice and look at him expectantly, "I can take a guess at some parts but you'll have to fill up the rest for me."
Vernon agrees instantly.
"But for now if you're free, would you mind taking me to her?"
"Ofcourse! Let's go.", he offers and he's relieved, "I'll explain everything on the way."
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You are miserable without Junhui as the later takes a day off to perform at another gig. The café is not as busy so you're bored.
"Can I place my order?"
Your voice perks up at the familiar voice and your gaze lifts to see Vernon standing at the queue lane.
"Sure Sir", and you're laughing at the face he makes, "Latte macchiato is it?"
"Yes--"
"No.", you cut him off, "Let me serve you my special today, up for it?"
Vernon nods in delight and he goes back to take his seat and you go to the kitchen, asking your coworker to manage the counter for some time.
When you come back with a glass of Peach Tranquility on the tray, Vernon salivates at the beverage because of the fruity smell and vibrant colours.
"I never knew a Herbal Tea could taste this good.", Vernon compliments you, "Or is the magic in the hands of the one making it?"
Your cheeks warm up, meeting his gaze seems to be difficult so you scurry away making an excuse of getting to the counter.
Does he make your heart flutter as much as you do to his, Vernon ponders over.
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Jealousy is a disease and you have it.
It's been weeks since you introduced Vernon to two of your treasured friends. You still remember the first encounter.
"Should I leave? They don't like me it seems."
Vernon whispered in your ear and you held his arm on an instinct, a gesture meaning no stay.
After some awkward glances and formal talks you were successful in stirring the fluidity between the three.
And now, Seungkwan and Junhui are more Vernon's friends then they are yours.
You are really content, though sometimes you get jealous how close they seem but it's funny how perfectly Vernon slots himself in your life.
What's funnier? It's the way your heart has been constricting whenever you're around Vernon. The air around get harder to breath in when he's too close to you. You know what it means, you're not dumb.
And because you're not dumb you know that harbouring a crush on Vernon is ridiculous because, well, he's handsome, he's a popular and he has the whole town lined up for him.
Everytime it occurs to you, a wistful sigh comes out and you end up waving the thoughts away.
Your memories of the past weeks makes you realise how Vernon clogs in each one of them.
"If I'm failing this class, it's on you."
Your GE lectures are similar expect nowadays you are occupying one of the chairs at back and Vernon's bag is of no use as he always lays his head on your shoulder quoting it gives him the best sleep.
"Stop being dramatic, take notes and let me sleep Y/N."
Instead of taking notes, you always end up counting his lashes, admire his sharp nose or linger your gaze on his lush lips.
"Don't you have a match tomorrow?"
You couldn't pinpoint since when you had started taking notes of his session calenders for the soccer matches.
"Will you come?"
It was kind off ritual to Vernon, asking you to attend the matches and getting a no everytime. Not that he minded, knowing you had no interest or knowledge in the sports, plus the extra classes you attended was taking much of your time and he would never want to add another baggage to your counter.
"Here, I made you porridge since you still have fever but decided to work your shift.", Vernon places the carrier on the counter sounding disappointed, "I got you some medicines as well."
After your shift ended, you found Vernon waiting for you by one of the tables. You took the carrier and pushed it to him, taking the seat adjacent to his.
"You want me to feed you?"
You didn't even have to answer him and he was opening the lids while holding the spoon in his hands.
The red tints on your cheeks were not from fever burns but because of the guy who was feeding you, even letting you use his other arm as a pillow but he didn't need to know that.
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Seungkwan takes a sip of his Iced Americano in silence. Junhui is unusually quiet, he's the one spacing out today.
"You have done nothing except for sipping on that never ending drink", Vernon points to Seungkwan in an accusatory tone and turns to the one sitting beside him, "And you, are you awake? Are you sleeping? Are you even listening?"
Seungkwan lets out a hum, a poised one which makes Vernon anxious.
"So you admit to liking Y/N?"
Vernon cocks his brow, "Is this a court session? Am I being charged?"
"Just answer in Yes or No."
"Yes. I like her, a lot. I think I love her.", Vernon says it again, with sincerity and emphasis.
Junhui chimes in with a grin, "We know. You're damn obvious but", the grin is wipped off and seriousness ghosts over as he continues, "It's not that we don't trust you but we want to be sure that this is not some kind of prank or a bet which general goes on between the group of jocks. We have seen that a lot and everytime the one on recieving end gets heartbroken, mocked and it becomes their pain to bear."
"The one causing it is termed cool or passed as if it's obvious. It never effects the popular person. They go on as if nothing ever happened and their popularity remains the same.", Seungkwan picks up, "To be honest, your other circle is good, I have never seen or heard anything problematic which comes as a surprise but I hope you understand where we both are coming from."
"No one would want to see their friend suffer", Vernon says with stark seriousness, "I swear on Cheshire and Soccer that I really love Y/N and I want to court her."
Seungkwan gasps before closing the palms over his mouth.
Junhui stands on his feet wide eyed, the chair making the loudest screech because of the abrupt movement.
And Vernon thinks he had said something wrong. Incredibly wrong.
"Oh my god, did you hear him?", Seungkwan asks Junhui.
"He's totally smitten, gosh!", comes the other's response.
Vernon groans, heart pulsating a little lesser than before. He's at fault for forgetting how dramatic these two idiots can be.
They exchange a knowing glance before looking Vernon.
"Confess to her.", both of them say in unison.
Vernon is however unfazed, "Trust me I want to. If I could do it right now--"
"Do it as soon as you can.", Seungkwan encourages him.
"It's not easy when I know I'll get awkward around her", Vernon knows he's gonna spend some sleepless nights, "But I need to one up."
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You are confused when you reach the shelter to see no signs of Vernon when he was the one to call you up to meet him here.
Cheshire meows at you, circling around your feet when you notice a note tied to her tail.
Turn left and walk past the tree if you wanna a play a game with me.
-Vernon
Your eyes squint searching for the creator of the note that you're holding as you turn around. You start walking towards the instructed place while Cheshire follows you.
Vernon is so nervous that if now someone asks him which team he plays for he'd mix up the names, his jersey number, even the position he plays in.
He almost jolts when he sees you approaching but Goodness Gracious his calming pill, Cheshire is also with you.
"What's the meaning of this note?"
"I want to send a code to you.", Vernon explains, "Answer three questions to get a slot each time and put it as a whole to decode my message."
You have never been this confused in your entire existence but you comply.
"First question,", Vernon says, his nervousness swaying away a bit, "Which jersey number is generally assigned to a team's first choice goalkeeper?"
The gears in your head don't need to turn at all.
You immediately respond, "When I said, I intake everything you speak about your passion including facts, I mean it.", your lips curl up, "The answer is 1."
Everytime he thinks his heart couldn't swell more you prove it wrong.
"Correct!", he is grinning, being so proud of you.
You mirror his grin
"Next question is... it's the easiest of all", his brows cocks at you, "What's the only self-enumerating number in English?"
You scoff and speak nonchalantly, "4. What am I, a four year old trying to memorize numbers?"
Vernon chuckles, "You got that correct too. Now time for the last question."
You brace yourself for the last one. Cheshire is seated on the ground, in between you two, her gaze moving from you to Vernon and vice versa.
"I am usually found with a couple of friends, Quarter a dozen, and you'll find me again. What am I?", he asks with a underlying tone, "Even though it's a riddle, you'll have to take the words as it is to crack this."
It's time you have use your brain. Riddles are meant to make you think about everything expect for the actual answer which most of times are present in the question itself.
Vernon watches you intently as you bite your nail, a habit of yours when you're thinking too hard. He crouches to pet Cheshire and the later purrs in content.
Some time passes by and you're still thinking of everything and anything unaware of the amused looks you're getting from both Vernon and Cheshire.
"Got it!", your sudden yell startles him, "The answer is 3!"
Vernon is instantly up on his heels as he smiles, "Congratulations for getting all the no-brainers correct.", he laughs when you scowl, "Now the last part, put the answers together and you'll get the code. Decode it and that'll be the message I'm trying to send you."
"Okay, let me put it together.", you mumble, "In order right? Then it's 1 4 3--"
You tongue gets tied and you look at Vernon with wide eyes. The nervousness that had simmered down comes back to him tenfold. He could feel his legs giving up when he meets your gaze.
None of you speak.
Both of you are frozen.
His heart might burst out of his chest if you prolong your answer one minute more. You only hope that what's Vernon trying to say is the only meaning to 143 that you know.
Cheshire, the cute little bean could also sense the tension between her adoptive parents. So she meows to stir some mobility.
Vernon thinks it's time he asks for his sake. He's about to open to his mouth when he hears you.
"I love you too.", you say so timidly and look away that Vernon has to close the gap between you two.
"Can you say it again?", he asks in desperation, "Do you really mean it?"
The index hooked under your chin, forces you to look at him.
"I love you, Vernon."
Comes your affirmation and the words that he needed to hear.
His head dips down to plant his lips on yours. Your arms circle around his neck and his settles on your waist.
He has his eyes opened while you have them closed. That's definitely a sight he'd love to see everyday, he's sure. You're loving the plush of his lips against yours and you don't miss how gentle his grip is on you. This feeling is so new yet so satisfactory that you'd need to have it everyday, you're sure.
"I love you, Y/N.", he whispers against your lips and you pull him back to have the touch of his lips again.
It's intoxicating.
You are kissing under the stars, moonlight being the only illumination on you both. The birds are chirping something soothing faraway and the cold breeze is doing nothing to cool you because it's Vernon, the only other you can feel on yourself.
You both break the kiss giggling when you hear another mewl from Cheshire. You immediately lift up the feline in your arms and Vernon is hugging you from back as you both pet her.
"You could have just confessed directly you know?", you crane your neck to tease him, "What if I got the answers wrong?"
Vernon pecks your forehead and says, "I had a lot of alternatives ready. I wouldn't have let you go until I got the correct answers from you."
You gaped at him in disbelief.
"Such a dork."
"But your dork", he laughs making you smile as well.
"How about we rename Cheshire to Cupid?"
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"The shop is closed, we won't be taking anymore orders Sir.", you are half leaning on the counter and as you joke around with the man standing infront of you.
Your boyfriend.
Vernon is unfazed, "I was in a mood good, would have tipped you well."
You snort at his response and you're undoing the ties of your apron, "Well in that case, along with our regular menu I can provide you an exclusive item."
"Sounds good, can I know what it entails?"
You keep the apron inside the case and walk out from behind the counter. When you do so, Vernon is instantly pulling you to him as he entwines his fingers with yours.
"Would you prefer Coffee, Tea", you grin tightening your grip on him, "or just more of Me?"
Vernon feigns to ponder, even rubbing his chin for a good measure, "The last one sounds appealing. I'd always like to have you, love."
"You're so corny.", you're pinching the bridge of his nose, "Good that I love you."
Vernon just smiles and the warmth he's radiates is enough for you to thrive longer, to love stronger.
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jaelvr · 11 days
Text
You were beautiful
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Home | NCT 127 masterlist |
Requested : no
Prompts ; 51. “Please, just stay a little longer.”  + 54. “Please don’t cry.”  + 50.  “I love you. Never forget that, okay?” 
Pairing : ex! doyoung x reader
Pronouns : you/yours
Type : angst, fluff
Word count : 1.2k
Warnings : mutual feelings, exes to lovers, idol! au, slightly ooc
Have a great day !! 
——————————
"The things I'm about to tell you, aren't so you change what's already on your mind."
He looked through his bag, searching for the letter he'd been given earlier in the day. They'd had a fan meet for their newest comeback, something they were used to by now. Getting presents and letters was nothing new, but there was something about this one he couldn't quite put his finger on. It felt familiar - like a home of some kind. The writing seemed familiar to him and the person in front of him, despite not being able to clearly make them out, was someone he'd known - he was sure of it. He pulled the letter out, wasting no time in opening it to read it.
"It's just that I keep thinking about all the melodies you made asleep at night."
He got up carefully, not wanting to disturb you too much. A lovestruck smile on his face as he looked at your figure next to him, taking in your peaceful expression and how the sun lightly shone on your face, making you look like an angel. Doyoung leaned down, placing a gentle kiss upon your forehead, thumb softly caressing your cheek. He got up and stretched, about to head into the bathroom when he heard a tired yawn and eyes peering over at him. "Good luck today. I love you." you murmured, a sleepy smile on your face as you battled sleep to stay awake. "I love you too, sunshine. I'll see you later." he promised, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips and watching you for a few seconds before heading into the bathroom to get ready for practice. He could always get through the day if it meant coming home to you.
"I keep trying to forget but you were beautiful."
He thought back on it, remembering the way the pair of you would look at each other with absolute love. It was clear to anyone who saw you two how deep the connection truly ran. They'd been celebrating one of the comebacks, throwing a party to congratulate them. He'd come over when you were watching Jungwoo and Haechan drunkenly sing along to songs on the karaoke machine, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing fragile kisses to your neck. "Hey Doie." you grinned, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck.
"You alright?" he muttered, brushing hair out of your face while his other hand gently ran circles across your hip. You let out a hum of content, nuzzling into his chest. "I'm so proud of you." you whispered, looking up at him with complete admiration and love, his face mirroring the same. "I couldn't have done it without you." he admitted, kissing your forehead. The way you looked at him made him never want to leave, always needing to either be next to you or have you close by. The way you called his name and how addictive he found it. You felt like home.
"I keep thinking about how we used to be. God, I just hate this part."
You'd known something was off the minute he'd walked through the door. He had said nothing, having a shower and getting into his pyjamas before curling up in bed, silent. You'd crawled in beside him, simply holding him and rubbing his back as his tears escaped, your embrace tight and not letting go of him. "You're okay. I've got you, love." you whispered, your head on top of his as you rubbed his back. You didn't force him to talk, simply letting him take his time and if he didn't want to talk about it at all, you never pushed him to. You stayed with him all night, comforting him in the morning as you caressed and planted kisses all over his tear-stained face, not making a deal or pressing on the issue. Just wanting to be there for him to soothe him.
"Think I've cried more than I had imagined."
The scene taunted him constantly whenever he couldn't fall asleep. The look on your face when he'd uttered the cursed six words. Doyoung was almost convinced he'd heard your heart shatter at his words. He wasn't sure what had broken him more between your desperate pleas to not leave or the tears that streamed down your face. “Please don’t cry.” he pleaded, his own tears falling. He wanted to tell you he was joking or he'd changed his mind, but he couldn't. He wanted to stay but knew it wasn't possible.
Not with him being an idol. He couldn't. He laid awake that night, your face and his actions constantly haunting him, knowing the pain he'd caused which he tried to ignore, convincing himself it was for the better. He'd give anything to go back to how you two were before, his heart hurting more as he read over the letter, realising you'd forgiven him despite the damage he'd caused you.
"'Cause the last time that you looked at me, I did all I could, I watched you leave."
He refused. He got up, and quickly headed to the entrance of the dorm, pulling his coat on and tying his shoes on. "Doyoung? Where are you going?" Taeyong questioned, looking at his phone which read eleven o'clock. "The letter." he murmured once his shoes were done, Taeyong looking at him in confusion as he pushed the letter into his best friend's hands. "They were there. They gave it to me today at the fan meet." he hurriedly explained. Taeyong skimmed through, the end of the letter catching his eye. Besides the “I love you. Never forget that, okay?” was a scrawled sunshine. The nickname Doyoung always referred to you as. Taeyong looked back up, a small smile on his face as he knew what he was doing. He nodded, squeezing Doyoung's shoulder before he left, bidding him a gentle 'good luck'.
"All the things you gave to stay with me."
Once he'd gotten there, he anxiously knocked on the door. He prayed you hadn't moved otherwise he'd look like an absolute idiot - not that he wouldn't already. His breath hitched as the door to the familiar apartment opened, words escaping him as he took in your look in front of him. You were in your pyjamas, your hair slightly messy with your natural beauty. "You look beautiful." he got out, hesitantly stepping forward, afraid of your reaction. Relief consumed him as he felt you step forward, resting your head on his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. He gently caressed the back of your head, the other resting on your back as he gripped you tightly, almost trying to assure himself he wasn't dreaming and he was actually here.
"I'm sorry. It doesn't feel right without you. I miss you. I miss the way you looked at me. I miss the way you called my name. I miss your smiles when we'd disagree, I-" he rambled, eyes widening as he felt you lean up, kissing him quickly yet lovingly. “Please, just stay a little longer.” you whispered a sad smile on your face. He cupped your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"I'm not leaving this time."
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