#hoping I can find a beta for my first fic ever as I feel like I'm flying blind here | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpsserene · 7 months

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ʜᴛᴛᴘꜱꜱᴇʀᴇɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰ1 ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ

ᴜᴘʟᴏᴀᴅ 1 : ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇꜱ ʟᴇᴄʟᴇʀᴄ / ᴍᴀx ᴠᴇʀꜱᴛᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ |ᴄᴏʀʀᴜᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴋɪɴᴋ

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: 18+ only. smut. corruption kink. orgasm delay/denial. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. hair-pulling. possessiveness. slight choking (glimpse and you miss it?). brief reference to previous dub-con (very minuscule, not charles or max). no penetrative sex. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 8k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: oneshot 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: all mine • brent faiyaz

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: the strength i had to summon to post this is something crazy. it's my first smut fic if you can believe it or not, but the way i feel exposed to the world is wild. i almost forgot to include the actual kink because i got carried away, but it's there i promise you, don't get disappointed too early in! can confirm that while i was writing this i had to take several breaks and stare at the ceiling. the black!reader is vague i think, it's not noticeable until the end, but i had written it with all shades of my poc girlies in mind < 3. n e ways: hope you guys like it!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general tag list? send me an ask!

huge thanks to my beta readers @lorarri and @sweetpiccolo-blog ! i appreciate y'all so much :)

cross-posted on my ao3, htpsss

here's the link to the masterlist for my f1 kinktober special, and send me a private message if you would like to be added to the list to become a beta reader in the future!!!

it’s late. you’ve kicked jimmy and sassy out of the bedroom, and locked it shut. you’re standing with your back pressed against the door, staring with unfocused eyes. you moved your stuffed animals inside the closet and had them facing the wall even though you closed the closet door. the window curtains are drawn shut, and the only light in the room is the warmth of one nightstand lamp. one of the plushest towels max owns is spread across the bed. in the center lays a single pillow.

this is the last chance you have to get off before max and charles get home in a few hours. they’ve been gone for a triple-header, and you haven’t been able to orgasm once in the near month they’ve been gone. you’ve become depraved enough to consider buying a vibrator, but all packages delivered to this apartment have to be approved by max or charles to be sent up, and you’re definitely not bold enough to go out and buy one (and risk being seen by one of their fans or have to physically talk to someone to buy one).

the obvious thing to do would be to talk to your boyfriends, and tell them that you’re ready to start exploring the sexual side of your relationship. you’ve been dating them for two years now, and you’re afraid that they’re getting tired of waiting for you to be comfortable enough to have sex with them. but, you’re also afraid that once they learn how inexperienced you really are—they’ll make fun of you, leave you, and find some other woman who knows how to please them. you know that’s outrageous and never going to happen. they’re the sweetest boys you’ve ever dated (way better than that one dude you dated who tried to get you wasted enough to persuade you into having sex with him), and they’ve been very respectful concerning your boundaries. always pulling away when they feel themselves getting hard, and constantly reminding you to tell them to stop if you feel uncomfortable and that there’s nothing wrong with that, and that they’re willing to wait as long as you need, and will continue loving you regardless even if you decide to never have sex with them. so—of course you know that they won’t be assholes about your innocence—it’s just your own self-esteem, insecurity, and overthinking that prevents you from saying you’re ready.

you make a deal with yourself. if you can’t manage to get off grinding against your pillow one last time, you’ll force yourself to sit down with your boyfriends, stare them in the eyes and state that your ready to have sex. who are you kidding—you’re going to get off right now one way or another even if it kills you, because you definitely will wither away and die if you have to have that conversation with your boyfriends.

you walk over to the bed, heart beginning to race as you start playing one of those curated “songs i’d like to be railed to” playlists, before throwing your phone somewhere up the bed. you move to straddle the pillow, and begin to calm your heartbeat. you take a few deep breaths and let your mind wander. the first thought that comes to your head is the goodbye kiss you got from your boyfriends before they left.

they had gotten all their luggage together and were pulling on their shoes at the entryway. charles was pouting at you, wide green eyes and all, “you are sure that you don’t want to come with us? for at least one of the races? we’ll be gone for almost a—“

“yes, cha. i’m sure,” you cut him off with a firm nod, “lemme give you a kiss before you leave, okay?”

charles frowned at max who laughed—like he wasn’t the one begging you to come with them last night before you all went to bed. with a little upset ‘hmph’ charles leaned down and kissed you softly. you had pulled away, only trying to give him a peck, and charles grunted disapprovingly. one of his veiny hands rose and gripped at your waist over your t-shirt, strongly pulling you forward, causing you to tumble into his chest. “oh, i am going to need more than that, mon ange,” charles smirked down at you, “i am leaving for so long, and that’s the goodbye kiss you’re leaving me with? no, i do not think so.”

you glanced away from him, cheeks beginning to become warm as you make to hide your face is his broad chest. charles tutted at you, tightening his grip on your waist, and his other hand gently pushed your head up to look at him, “c’mere and give me a real kiss, pretty girl.”

you made a suppressed little squeal in the back of your throat, a noise max and charles became very familiar with, often present when they start teasing you. you surprisingly leaned up and initiated the kiss, causing charles to let out a shocked gasp into your mouth. his hand on your waist moved lower, falling to the small of your back and pushed your body completely against his. his other hand caressed your jaw, soothing you enough to allow him to control the kiss, as he flicked his tongue at the seam of your lips. you shakily sighed, allowing him entrance and the kiss deepened, a pleased humming noise in the back of your throat escaping.

you impatiently shift side to side on top of the pillow, not yet allowing yourself to get any friction. sliding both of your hands underneath your sweater—well, max’s sweater, and you start playing with your chest. flicking gently at your nipples, just the way you like.

you could feel charles chuckle into the kiss, but you dismiss it, and keep kissing at him eagerly. however, you failed to recognize that he wasn’t laughing at you, he was laughing at max. cockily making eye-contact with him, before he let his eyes flutter shut and devoted his attention to you.

max stared on, his mouth slightly open as he watched his two loves give him a show for free. charles’ hand slipped lower, gliding over your ass, across your criminally well-fitted jeans, and found its home on the back of your thigh. max is well acquainted with how skilled charles’ mouth is, so he knows he must have done something spectacular to cause a choked-off moan to escape you, your hand raised to grab at charles’ polo in a fist, wrinkling the pressed shirt. max huffed, deciding to no longer spectate, and took the few steps to reach you across the foyer.

you let out a shocked gasp, eyes fluttering open in surprise at the feeling of your other boyfriend pressed up against your back. you attempt to break the kiss, but charles doesn’t let you. hand slipping from your cheeks to the nape of your neck, tangling in the hairs there and keeping you exactly where he wants. one of max’s hands came to rest at your hip, while the other rested on your navel. your eyes fell shut again in pleasure at how charles gently nipped at your bottom lip, and max’s presence is pushed to the back of your mind.

you didn’t register max’s hand disappearing from your abdomen, but suddenly, the air was cut with a pained moan from charles and his lips were ripped away from yours.

your eyes flew open, and max’s hand was buried in charles’ hair, tugging his head backward and maneuvering it into what must be an almost uncomfortable angle, but with how pleased charles looked—you wanted to feel it too. his eyes rolled backwards, before he pressed them shut and re-opened them to reveal dilated pupils and half-lidded lashes; panting hard, lips covered with your shared spit, and a fucked-out look in his eyes.

you struggle to pull off your sleeping shorts, eventually managing to tug them off to reveal your white cotton panties. your hand leaves your breast to touch at your heat, and you’re shocked at how wet you’ve gotten already. you use that same hand to adjust your pillow, before you let your hips fall all the way and make contact with the pillow. you sigh in relief.

now, max is the one to laugh with his hand firmly keeping charles in place. “oh, you know better than to tease me charlie…” he started, and you barely heard him. fixated on the way charles’ tongue frequently slips out to lick at his lips, but you could hear the smirk max was wearing.

“and you’re also not the only one leaving our sweet girl for a month. you should be nice and let me have a taste too, hm? isn’t that right, schatje?” he directs at charles. max’s other hand made its way up your abdomen, copping a feel at your chest, before it rested across your throat. he wasn’t squeezing at all, but the weight of his hand, how it spans across your neck, and how you can feel the strength lying underneath his skin, caused you to lose your breath. he guided your head back and dropped his to get his own goodbye kiss.

the kiss felt like it lasted for a lifetime, but realistically it had to be less than a minute of max forcing charles to watch how he ravaged your mouth, before charles started whining loudly. max patted your neck gingerly before pulling away and laughing at charles’ teary eyes. your legs were trembling and you were pretty sure if max wasn’t behind you, you would’ve fallen long ago. in one smooth motion, his hand fell to the monegasque’s throat from his hair and pulled him closer, completely sandwiching you between them, as their lips met in a wild kiss.

your hips start to rock against the pillow, keeping it slow in the beginning, learning your lesson about friction burn the last time you got too erratic with your moves too quickly.

charles—completely desperate—whined deep in his throat and max kept pulling consistently depraved moans and grunts out of your boyfriend. max’s other hand moved off of your hip to smack at charles’, a nonverbal command for him to calm down and let max take care of him. you felt charles practically vibrating against you in need, but he slowly started to calm; his posture slackening and lips slowing, allowing the dutch full control.

the two of them were completely ignoring you. caught in their own world, putting all of their energy into their kisses, and in turn gave you a front row seat to something you're never going to forget about. you felt so small in between the two of them, like the only thing that kept you from floating away is the fact that you were stuck in between their bodies.

eventually, max released his grip on charles and separated from the kiss, giving charles air to breathe. the blonde stepped backwards away from your body, and you stumbled embarrassingly. max’s hands went up to hover around your waist (suddenly so shy to touch you) to make sure you actually didn't fall. charles shook his head, physically trying to clear the haze in his mind before he stumbled away from you as well, pressing his back against the wall.

his chest was heaving with exertion, cheeks flushed a pretty red color, while his hands went to tug at his uncomfortably tight pants, failing to adjust himself to make his erection less obvious. he suddenly turns shy as well—it probably doesn’t help that max was laughing at how easy he is to turn on—, and charles tries to try and tug his shirt down to cover up his problem as best as he can.

your hips start to pick up in speed, movements more sure and less shaky. the friction between the cotton pillowcase and panties is multiplied on your cunt, and when you rock down deep enough, the catch of the panties on your clit is nearly immobilizing.

thinking about the moment before your boys left leads you into fantasizing about their dynamic, and how they are in the bedroom. that morning alone proved who was actually in charge; charles will tease and take whatever he can, as long as max allows him to. you can recall many instances of max guiding a well-fucked charles out of the bedroom and depositing him on your lap, before he went on to clean up and run the monegasque a bath.

the multiple post-sex facetimes you’ve gotten from the two when they’re across the world always starts with max softly speaking, “i’ve worn him out pretty good, but he refuses to fall asleep unless he gets to call you.” and the phone is passed to charles, who’s voice and lips are ruined to hell and you have to decipher what he’s attempting to say.

you’re starting to acclimate to the current tempo, so you pick it up another notch. you lean forward, bracing your hands on the bed for support as you focus on doing deeper and slower grinds against the pillow, allowing your clit to get constant attention.

you find comfort in the fact that charles allows max to take him to such a vulnerable state, and sometimes—you even find yourself getting jealous. you started joining them to see their aftercare for yourself, and found out that you're aching to be taken apart and put back together like max and charles do to each other.

the sound of max’s constant praises of charles being “so good for him,” and charles’s constant stream of “thank you, thank you, maxy” has you losing all train of thought.

you abandon the slow-and-steady technique, you’ve tried it several times this month and it’s failed to get you to come. you bite your lip, letting out a frustrated groan. your hips slow, and you grab the front of the pillow with one hand and pull it upwards, hoping that a tighter space allows better friction. you start moving quicker, doing smaller more shallow motions and it’s tons better. you can’t stop thinking that it would be even better to ride charles’ face.

even though your eyelids are scrunched shut, the thousands of tiktok edits you’ve seen of your boyfriends post-race; balaclava lines, sweaty, messy hair, and all—are playing behind them. you moan out desperately, toes curling in your socks. you hear the phantom noises of monegasque moans along with the imagined whispers of dutch-accented praises.

the knot in your navel tightens, your thighs begin to tremble, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. this is it, the feeling that’s escaped you for a month, it’s returning, you can finally come.

you start to rut against the pillow, uncaring of how your wetness has seeped into the pillow cover and sticks against your thighs—if anything, it’s just another pleasant sensation. unfiltered squeals and gasps start slipping out, you’re too blissed out to regulate your volume at this point.

but then, a minute passes and you still haven’t fallen over the precipice. it’s right there; you can see it, you can even hear it, but you can’t fucking feel it.

your moans of pleasure turn into cries of frustration. your legs start to quiver with exhaustion, and the orgasm you almost had fades. tears spill from your eyes, as you frantically rut against the soaked pillow, not caring about rhythm or technique anymore. and your chance is gone, your sobs echoing around the room at another failed attempt.

you climb off the pillow and fall on your side, crying into the towel trying to muffle your anguished noises. you have the fleeting thought to think that you're overreacting, but fuck that. you’ve literally been unwillingly denying yourself for a month.

after you’ve cried yourself out, you get up and start to clean up the mess you made. when you lean down to pick up the shorts you flung across the room, you hear jimmy and sassy start yowling outside of the room. and faintly, you hear the front door open.

fuck.

a giggle slips out of charles as the cries of the cats are heard outside of the apartment door. max shoots a glare at charles for laughing at his children, before he loses the fight and a smile slips out in response to the monegasque’s. finally managing to slip the key into the lock, max speaks, “we’re supposed to surprise her by being early, cha—maybe we should’ve let the cat’s know when we called earlier today?” they step through the threshold, quickly shutting the door behind them so the cats won’t run out. charles makes a questioning hum as they both start slipping out their jackets, “they are cats, mon minou. i do not think they care about anything other than when you come back to feed them.”

max side eyes him heavily as he squats down to untie his sneakers, and looks around slightly confused, “i think we are missing a greeting from one more kitten, wouldn't you say, charles?” the man in question nods in agreement, while finally petting jimmy and sassy to calm them down a little bit. whenever the two of them return home, you usually race to the door along with the cats. you give them warm hugs and sweet kisses, help them take their jackets off, and let them know if you cooked a meal for them, or prepared a bath.

but tonight, they don’t hear the sound of your footsteps coming towards them. it’s rare for them not to be greeted at the door, most of the time you beat them to unlocking it, with the alarm system the cats provide.

charles questions, “maybe she fell asleep? we did not tell her that we moved our flight earlier. and we did tell her to go to bed because we would be arriving late.”

max snorts disbelievingly, “when has she ever gone to bed when we’ve told her to,” he starts, “she’s probably just in the bathroom or something.”

the two spend a few minutes paying some attention to the cats, before they begin to get suspicious at the fact that you still haven’t come to welcome them back. they straighten up and start heading towards the bedroom.

max pushes the door open, and everything looks normal except for the fact that you’re nowhere to be seen. the bed is put together, one nightstand lamp is on, and the bathroom is empty. max and charles stare at each other with matching baffled expressions, before you clear your throat in the doorway.

max jumps, “shit!” and charles flinches, “oh, what the fuck!”

your giggles reverberate through the air, and the two men can only laugh along with you. “oh? so you find scaring us funny, schat?” max teases gently. you pad over to him, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him in for a tight hug, nodding softly into his neck as you breathe him in. charles huffs after he’s deemed that you spent too much time loving on max before he pulls you into his own grasp, one arm braced tightly around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head resting in his chest. “she’s absolutely frightening, max, can’t you tell?” he teases back, defending you jokingly.

max hums, “definitely. where were you hiding, baby?”

you freeze for second as you pull away from charles’ grasp, before stuttering your way through an explanation, “u-uh oh, i was-um, i was just in the laundry room! i was just putting a few things i had accidentally spilled uh- spilled juice on-yes juice of course, in the uh-washing machine, yes,” you nod firmly, to fully convince them.

the monegasques raises an eyebrow at you and dragged out an, “…….okay, i guess?” max follows up with a sarcastic, “yeah….we definitely believe you!”

you narrow your eyes at him, “are you calling me a liar, max? because, why would i lie about—“

charles cuts you off, turning your head back towards him as he squints at your face. he runs his thumb underneath one of your eyes, and speaks softly, “were you crying, mon ange? your eyes are red and swollen.”

you shake your head rapidly to attempt to dismiss his worry but it’s already too late. max practically teleports to your side and scans your face and with a gasp he reveals, “yes, you did cry. i can still see the tears stained on your cheeks.”

you shift uncomfortably, “yes, okay! i did cry! but it was nothing serious,” you pause and mumble the last part of your sentence, “i was just overreacting anyways, it doesn’t matter.”

max smacks his teeth at you disapprovingly, “hey, don’t be mean to yourself, schatje. anything that causes you to cry does matter. tell us, and we can try and make it better for you.” the two boys wear you down with earnest eyes; the monegasque brushes his lips against your hand comfortingly and the dutchman tucks your hair behind your ears soothingly. they wait patiently and don’t attempt to push you any further, but there’s an unspoken understanding between the two of them; they won’t let this go until you explicitly ask them two. and suddenly, your resistance falls and words start rushing out of your mouth.

“im so tired, okay? i’ve been trying for ages, ages, and i can’t get there! everytime i try, i-i-it’s like i’m right there–right there! and then it never comes! it’s torture. the harder i try to reach for it, the more it slips away, and then it doesn’t even feel good anymore! i thought this was supposed to feel good–and now what’s the point?! i don’t even wanna try again if i’m just going to be–”

“woah, woah, woah.” max cuts you off, “what are we talking about exactly, schatje? have you not been getting enough sleep or something? because we can try and–" you interrupt, “NO! i haven’t came in a MONTH! are you even listening to me?!”

charles chokes on his own breath and max damn near faints. most importantly, they’re shaken at your bluntness around the topic; every time they try to ask if you’ve been finding…relief–for lack of a better word, you tend to snap shut if they use any ‘explicit’ words with you– you tell them not to worry about it. so, to hear you say it plainly reveals how much distress this has been causing you. secondly, the thought that you’ve been desperately trying to get off for a month on your own, is a paralyzing thought. they nearly convinced themselves that you had no idea about anything sexual due to your refusal to answer any of their questions—which there would be nothing wrong with, they’d be happy to teach you how to please them and them alone. it’s a seductive thought, the fact that you’re untouched, that no man has had the opportunity to taint you and ruin your perspective on how you should receive and give pleasure. they’ve been praying for the day you’d be ready to let them teach you how to be good for them. maybe that makes them monsters, for taking advantage of your naivety and innocence, and molding you into their perfect girl, but they stopped feeling guilty for desiring this long ago.

you seem to have missed the fact that you sent their minds reeling and continue venting, “i don’t know what to do, maxy! i’ve been doing the same thing, and it’s NEVER failed me before. it’s cruel that it stopped working when you guys left me for more than a month! no matter how i did it–if i did the exact same things i’ve always been doing, or tried something new, nothing worked! i was literally just considering buying a fucking vibrator! a vibrator, charles, i’d rather run naked in the street than buy that online and have to put in this delivery address–”

charles gently presses finger against your mouth, shushing you. he pulls you into a deep hug, rubbing a hand up and down the length of your back , the motion pacifying you. he hums, and it vibrates through his chest to yours, “mmm, we’re home now, mon ange. there’s no need to run in the streets naked–” “definitely not,” max jumps in, reacting possessively at the implication of other people seeing you undressed. charles rolls his eyes and continues (like he’s not just as jealous as max), “or buy a vibrator. i know it must be so frustrating, to not cum,” you gasp softly, “especially when you’ve been edging yourself accidentally for so long, hm?”

a questioning sound slips from your lips, “hm? what’s edging? i just haven’t,” your voice drops to a whisper, “cum.” max thinks that he’s seriously fucked-up in the head, because he watches how you bury your face into charles’s chest after your whispered word, refusing to make eye contact with them out of embarrassment; and relishes at the fact that you absolutely have no idea about what exactly you’ve been doing to yourself. he’s going to enjoy ruining teaching you everything he knows.

“edging is repeated instances of sexual stimulation and stopping before your orgasm. it’s called that because you are kept ‘on the edge.’ you can do it to yourself or with others,” max states in an unfazed manner. he sees you start to relax, knowing that you find comfort in his matter-of-fact tone.

a pout lowers your lips, “who would enjoy that? it feels terrible.”

max breaks out in a grin, slipping an arm around charles and squeezing at his tapered waist, “you know somebody who enjoys it very much, liefje,” charles blushes at the sudden call out, and watches the way your eyes widen in shock. max continues, “anyways, you may find that you enjoy it when it’s done properly—with people who are experienced enough to make sure you’re feeling good and keep you feeling good… and show you how to have a proper orgasm, hm?” max segways into the important topic, not allowing you to deflect any longer.

charles stops your attempt at hiding in his broad shoulder this time around, and firmly holds your face to keep you facing max. the dutch give charles a nod of appreciation and watches how he shifts on his feet at the acknowledgement; he might have to take care of him after he’s done with you, too. max allows your eyes to avoid meeting his, letting them roam his face as you battle your own insecurity.

“liefje,” max deepens his tone, knowing how you melt at any pitch similar to his morning voice, “there is no need to be embarrassed about your virginity and innocence. you had your boundaries set, and never bent or broke them to make someone happy at the cost of your comfort. no matter how much pressure someone applied to you, you refused to let them have you in one of the most vulnerable positions you could ever be in because you felt unsure or plainly uncomfortable with them. that is something you should take pride in and no one should make a joke out of your virginity for that instance. tonight, you can still make that decision if you are not completely sure on allowing charles and i the privilege of teaching you how to feel satisfied. we will continue to wait for you; you have the power here, not charles or i. do what is best for you at this moment, and if that changes, tell us so, and we will continue or stop at your will.”

the room is silent as the three of you digest max’s spiel. charles and max seem to be completely nonchalant about the matter, but they are trying to hide how anxious they are about your possible refusal, for your sake. of course they are hoping that you’ll accept their helping hands, or lips, or tongues, or coc—but, that’s not their main intention tonight. the goal is for them to start building a deeper level of understanding and trust with you, to where you allow yourself to be in your most vulnerable state with them. and that will take time; they’re not expecting you to completely reveal your innermost workings to them instantaneously. however, they most definitely want to show you how good they can make you feel and how good you can make them feel. and once you internalize that, then they can start working on showing you the wonders of sex—or plainly put, they can start tainting you.

you nod. charles eyes brighten and his cheeks dimple with the appearance of a wild smile. he leans in to kiss you in thanks, but max halts him with one finger to the forehead and a quick ‘aht aht,’ “that won’t do, liefje, i need verbal confirmation—words, please.”

“y-you can…you can help s-show and teach me how to…how to feel good. i am ready to have…,” your voice thins out, and suddenly you shake your head, eyes meeting max’s straight on in an unusual act of confidence, clearing your throat, “i am ready for us to have—i’m ready for you to fuck me.”

max wasn’t exactly ready for that wording and faltered, a little shook. charles on the other hand has to struggle to refrain from laughter. at the mixed reaction, your bravado slips away, and you add, “please?” charles loses the laugh automatically; your timid but desperate widened brown doe eyes stare up at the two of them, flickering between them anxiously, plump lips parted with your tongue flicking out—he has a few ideas of something he can offer to keep that mouth of yours busy.

max rumbles in satisfaction, “see, that wasn’t so hard, was it pretty girl? we’ll work on that confidence of yours for sure—but, i have a few rules for you first before we get started. charles, why don’t you tell our girl the first two?”

“number one, always answer our questions with words; if you don’t, we’ll stop and wait for you to respond. two, if you feel uncomfortable at any point, tell us, and we’ll stop what we’re doing and make it better for you or stop completely if necessary,” charles answers assuredly.

you nod, and max raises an eyebrow at you, “i mean, yes!”

max praises you, “you’re already doing so good for us,” he watches your breath catch at the sentence and figures he may have another praise kink on his hands, “you wanna be a good girl and tell me what you were really doing before we came home?” your cheeks burn and your previous embarrassment returns full force, but you fight through it, not wanting to break the rules right off the bat.

“well, you remember how i said my usual method wasn’t working anymore? i wasn’t lying about that. i only g-get off when you guys leave, andidoitbygrindingonapillow—and i have to put down a towel before becauseimakeamess. so! i really was doing laundry, i just didn’t spill juice on it…i kinda, spilled on it.”

charles’ hands fall away from you in shock, and max really doesn’t know if he can handle another revelation like this from you without actually passing out. you continue to over-explain, “and i i-i didn’t even get to, y’ know (oh my god, she soaked the pillow without even cumming, max!), and i got that wet anyway…and i can’t really control it, but if you guys don’t like it i can try and—“

“NO!” “PLEASE DON’T!”

you flinch away, and they apologize heavily for their overreaction.

“please, don’t, mon ange. i can tell you that max and i aren’t ever going to hate what’s between your legs, or what comes from there,” charles suggests with a smirk, before his face shifts to a more blank state “wait. did…did you have a chance to change?” you hum a little “mm-mm” glancing down at yourself still clad in max’s sweater and cotton panties, “uhm. no, i was a little more concerned with cleaning up the bed before you guys saw it so—sorry, i’m not a little more presentable—“

“are you wearing the same panties, mon ange?”

you freeze, brain lagging at what the monegasque had noticed. “mhm, yeah,” you whisper softly, playing with the hem of the sweater self-soothingly.

“can i,” charles takes a deep breath, “can i touch you, mon coeur?”

you squeak, “yes please, charlie.”

max watches as charles places his massive hand on one of your thighs, spanning the front with no struggle, and gently caresses his hand up, slowly making his way up your thigh. charles taps two fingers gently against you, and you spread your legs a smidge wider, and the sound of your thighs peeling off one another from the stickiness you leaked, reverberates around the room. max can’t help but let a moan slip out. charles slides his hand in between your legs, both of your own hands fisting at the hem of your borrowed sweatshirt, and you gasp at the lightest touch of charles pointer and middle finger against your soaked panties. max sees charles pupils blow wide and mouth drop open in awe—and he can’t wait anymore.

max presses his front to your back, sandwiching you in between them once again, and impatiently asks, “schatje, can i?” you let out a breathy ‘yeah,’ and max doesn’t hesitate to bully his hand in between your legs as well. he cops a more generous feel of your cunt, and groans at the state of ruin your panties are in.

“liefje,” max starts, “walk with me to the bed, please.” max pulls away, and unfastens one of your hands from the sweater to guide you. you turn around stumbling through your first few steps—charles sets you upright more prepared for your legs becoming jello than you are, and helps you over to the bed, one hand firmly set on the small of your back. max sits on the edge of the bed, man spreading comfortably, and watches how your eyes automatically fall to stare at his thighs with a smirk. he glances at charles behind you, who mouths ‘can’t blame her’ with a smirk of his own. the dutch pats his lap, “c’mere and give me a kiss, pretty girl.”

you rush to sit in his lap, slowing at the last minute, not wanting to sit your full weight on him. he huffs, and grabs at your hips situating you firmly on his lap, before leaning in and kissing you stupid. your gasp of shock transforms into a hum of pleasure, letting max have complete control of the kiss. his hand comes up to rest on the back of your head and moves you exactly where he wants, sucking on your bottom lip before slipping his tongue against yours. max kisses like he’s going to run out of time, he ravishes you completely. you squirm against him, pulling away to pant against his cheek needing air. max chuckles, and you only get to whine at his teasing for half a second before charles, who’s now sitting next to max, pulls you into another kiss. charles, on the other hand, kisses like he has all the time in the world, he draws it out. he keeps the kisses slow and closed in the beginning, pausing to pull away and thumb at your lips, relishing at how they’ve already swelled from max’s abuse, the surrounding skin already beginning to turn raw and sensitive from their friction of their facial hair. he continues kissing you, all tongue and sloppy not caring about about the way your hands come up to grasp at his chest in desperation, before switching to absolutely bruise your lips by nipping and tugging at them.

your hips jump forward against max’s, and he can’t stop the groan that tumbles out. you jolt away from charles’ assault and stare at max with an embarrassed expression, “s-sorry—“ max narrows his eyes and dismisses your apology, “don’t apologize for that. you feel good, you’re allowed to show that unless i tell you differently.”

“yes, max,” you answer, even though he didn’t ask a question.

“oh, you’re such a good girl for us, liefje,” he tests. and his instincts didn’t fail him. your hips twitch against his again, and a near inaudible moan slips from your lips.

he turns towards charles, “yeah, that works doesn’t it, cha?” charles nods, eyes still stuck on your lips. max smirks at charles being completely entranced, before turning back to you and clocks the glaze beginning to form over your eyes, “alright now, liefje, i need you to pay attention to me really quickly, hm?”

you hum, bobbing your head a few times, before you manage to get out a “yes, max.”

he holds your head steady with his thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin, “i’m not going anywhere, baby, take your time and focus.” it only takes you half a minute to truly focus in after your heart stops racing to give him another verbal confirmation before he continues. “tonight, neither one of us is going to make love to you—“ your shoulders drop and a frown is quick to spread across your mouth. you really only prepared for the situation that you’d tell them you were ready, and then you’d get railed into next sunday. you start to panic; maybe you came off too depraved, and he’s letting you down slowly—

“hey, hey, hey. no overthinking yet, let him finish, mon ange,” charles calls out to you worriedly, he’s experienced the same thought process you're going through before and would rather try and prevent the self-doubt from overtaking you.

max pets at your waist over the sweater and continues, “not tonight. we’ve just gotten off a flight, and had three back to back races. it’s late, and i’m sure all three of us are tired. we should initiate something like that with a clearer mind,” you feel a little selfish now, his points very valid, “but, i still want to give you an orgasm, okay? sure, you may not be able to get off by grinding on a pillow anymore. you’ve probably just acclimated to it and need to give it a break. so, to compromise: you’ll get off by riding my thigh.”

charles and max wait for your reaction. your frown lightens into a pout, but you’re disappointment doesn’t completely fade away. “how is that any different from riding the pillow? it’s the same thing.” charles laughs shakily, “oh, mon ange. you have no idea. listen to max and give it a try before you take it off the table completely.”

you shrug, and agree, “fine. how do i….uh how do i do the thigh riding, i guess?”

charles turns to look at max, wordlessly asking for permission, and max grants it with a wave of his hand. charles scoots up closer, and shifts your straddle from max’s whole lap to his right thigh. as soon as your pantie-covered cunt firmly presses on the muscle of max’s jean-clad thigh, a soft ‘oh’ croaks out of you. max flexes and relaxes his thigh once and your hips jump up and away from him. max and charles glance at each other; you’re ridiculously sensitive, they’ll have to see if that’s your natural state or if it’s just the result of your prolonged edging and the fact that you were grinding against a pillow not too long ago. charles squeezes your hips, bringing your attention to him, “i’m going to start guiding you now, you ready, mon coeur?”

“mmm, yeah—that felt really good, i want more,” you speak timidly.

“good,” charles states, and then he pulls your hips forward dragging you against max’s thigh, and a flash of heat zings up your spine. you moan, a small, breathy exhale, and charles keeps it slow at first, not pushing you down to roughly or making the motions too quick—he wants you to learn to love the friction again. barely a minute passes before your hips start fighting charles’ guided rhythm, and a frustrated groan slips out of you, not able to fight your boyfriends grip. max clocks back in from where he was watching the pleasure start to flicker on your face and asks, “what are you supposed to do, baby?”

“more-ah, please, charlie,” you moan shakily. charles smirks, “look at you, still using your manners like a good girl—“ a louder moan echoes, “okay, okay, mon coeur. i’ll get you there, i’ll get you to cum like you need, okay? i’ll make you forget all about your manners too, hmm?”

you stopped listening to anything after charles reassured you that he’s going to get you to cum, you believe him. he adjusts his grip on your hips and starts incrementally increasing the pace and pressure for you. your moans start to become more frequent, and increasing in pitch rapidly, the drivers can tell you’re hurtling towards your long-awaited orgasm, sooner than they thought. charles slowly releases his grip on your waist letting your hips take over once he’s sure you’ve gotten the hang of it. you throw your head back in pleasure, your hips have a steady grind and…and you’re feeling good. a suprised laugh slips out of your lips at that and shifts into a sharp moan when max starts flexing his thigh rhythmically giving you a little more texture to work with. max lets his heavy hands fill in for where charles’ and presses you down into deeper slower strokes.

you cry out, it’s a little too much for you, but it feels so good, that you bear with it, they know what’s best for you, anyways. max grins down at you smugly, and you start to tear up a little; he can still feel your hips twitching away from the pressure sometimes. not wanting to push you too far with that motion alone, he lightens up on the pressure but starts bouncing his thigh. the shriek you release surprises all three of you, but you don’t run from it, if anything you lean into it more. one of your hands fists into charles’ shirt for support, and the other falls to max’s, tugging it off your left hip so you can hold it tight. max’s grin softens into a small smile and he kisses your joined hands, and charles leans into press kisses on your neck, praise slipping out of their lips freely.

“doing so good for us, pretty girl.”

“yeah, baby, that’s it. take what you need.”

“don’t be shy, let those sweet moans out for us.”

“just like that, oh! look at that, you’ve leaked all over his thigh,” charles points out. max looks down and registers that his pant leg is sticking down to his thigh and the denim has darkened with the amount of wetness. “oh, yeah. look at that, baby,” max pats on the side of your face, and you can’t even recall when you screwed your eyes shut, but you look down, and a mortified squeal leaves you. not much longer and you’ll have drowned his thigh. the dutchman sucks his teeth at you, “don’t be embarrassed, liefje. i can’t wait until i can taste it straight from the source,” he moves his other hand underneath the sweatshirt, and slips two fingers between your inner thigh while gathering your wetness. he sucks on one finger moaning explicitly at your taste, before offering both fingers to charles to clean off. the monegasque flicks his tongue out teasingly tasting them first, before he makes a quick motion of sucking them in and fully running his tongue in every crevice to get every last drop of your taste.

you moans start to become pitchy little ah-ah-ah’s, and you frantically start rabbiting your hips. you’re so close. max squeezes you hand, and starts up the praise again.

“i wasn’t joking, schatje. when i finally get my mouth on your pretty little cunt, you won’t be able to pull me off of you until i force at least three orgasms out of you.”

charles pulls off of max’s fingers and adds, “i need to give her three or four from my mouth too. i don’t think she’ll be able to handle that many.”

“yes, she can. she’s such a good girl for us, she’d let us keep going until we tell her when she’s done.”

“mmm, yeah—she’s right there, look at that cute little face she’s making.”

“her pretty little o-mouth, we should fill that up for her too.”

“thinkin i’ll fill that sweet little cunt of hers first with my dick—“

what escapes your mouth is definitely a scream, and max can’t bring himself to muffle it even though it’s the middle of the night. he pays a hefty sum of money for this penthouse, they can deal with hearing how charles and him make you scream with pleasure. your orgasm completely whites-out all of your senses; ears ringing, eyes rolled back, skin feeling raw and thighs shaking. max and charles work your hips back and forth a few more times, helping you with the aftershocks until you squirm out of their hands. you fall forward into max’s chest, body trembling, and tears streaming down your face.

max cradles you close and scratches at your head, calling your name a few times to get a gauge of how out of it you are. with no verbal response, he sends charles to get water and a towel to clean you up. max softly murmurs praises at you constantly, and charles joins in with the affirmations when he returns. the both clean you up when you’re still floating; they put you in an oversized tee, not bothering with undergarments, wiping all wetness and cream away from between your legs trying to avoid looking at your cunt directly, they even manage to get your bonnet on for you, and even have time to change the duvet before you start becoming aware again.

you turn and automatically move to snuggle into the crook of max’s neck, but he gently presses a straw to your mouth so you can hydrate after the amount of fluids you seem to have lost. your eyes open, and you croak out a disapproving hum at not being able to go to sleep, and max shakes his head at you, “drink, schat. non-negotiable, pretty girl.” after slowly draining ¾ of the bottle, you pull away and with a shattered voice, start mumbling, “thank you, thank you, thank you—“

and charles leans over to cut you off with a soft press of lips, “no, thank you for letting us give you that, mon coeur.” you hum, whispering out, “i love you, charlie. i love you, maxy.”

they both respond with resounding ‘i-love-you’s back, and start soft conversation just checking up on you before they let you fall asleep.

“i’ve never felt this good before from an orgasm,” you start, “i wanna—i wanna keep being good for you guys. i wanna learn how to feel good like this again, and i want you both to show me how because i trust you. please?”. charles and max both murmur affirmatives to you, and you continue speaking softly, “you guys can take showers now, i’ll probably be asleep before you come back.” after making sure you’re truly comfortable, max and charles head to the en-suite to take the world’s speediest shower so they can cuddle up with you sooner.

shutting the door, max and charles stare at each other in completely silence. charles starts, “are we sure that we’re the ones corrupting her and she’s not corrupting us? because, i’ve almost came in my pants three times tonight.”

max stares at charles with unseeing eyes, “i will never forgot the way she soaked my fucking leg, charles…i’m pretty sure i did come in my pants.”

3K notes · View notes

saeist · 1 year

Text

it's not living if it's not with you ── s. itoshi

synopsis: if it's meant to be, it will be genre: ex2lovers, arranged/fake dating, celebrity!au, pro!au, fluff, angst with happy ending, sharing a bed, 2nd chances, ... word count: 12.3k warnings: reader and sae aged up 22+, implied sex towards the end, reader has a hint of social anxiety/claustrophobia, i think sae is a little ooc in some scenes, lmk if i missed some notes: THERE YOU HAVE IT SAEISTS.. MY 1K SPECIAL!! THIS IS THE SUPER SECRET SAE FIC I'VE BEEN TEASING EVERYONE ABOUT FOR LIKE A WEEK NOW AND IT'S FINALLY IN FRUITION! <3 here's a lil sae brainrot to show my gratitude to you guys ^_^ fellow saeists who also consume an unhealthy(?) amount of sae content...... this fic is also dedicated to the loml my bae aeri @saerins for taking ur time of day to beta-read and to my angel baby sage @invsu as well <33 ilu guys extras: i made a playlist for this bc i am insane like that and without further a do.. sit back, relax and enjoy! lmk what u guys think either in the tags or comments bc i rlly worked hard on this for like a week and i jus couldn't stop writing! talk abt a sae earworm... ++ if u guys find theres a lot of the 1975 references.. its bc i was listening to their songs as i made this lawl .. tmi!

001.

you didn’t really put into consideration how awkward it actually was to be working on a modeling gig with your ex boyfriend.

the pay was obviously really good that’s why you even agreed to book it in the first place, especially since it was for a famous luxury brand and their fragrance line

so imagine your horror when you walk into set and see your ex posing for the cameras.

you silently hoped that it was just his solo shoot and not with you because your manager did mention that you would be having a partner for this photoshoot

the photographer greets you with a hug and compliments your outfit for the shoot. a white, sultry open neckline dress. the theme of the shoot was it was set on the beach with a sunset background

he instructs you to lay on the makeshift sand and tells you to start posing for your solo shots.

after a couple of clicks, the photographer compliments you on your professionalism on set and then calls your ex boyfriend.

“sae! time for the couple shots i told you about” the photographer calls out to sae who was on his makeup chair. your eyes widened in realization that he was, in fact, your partner for today’s shoot

you tried to look at your manager for some help but it was no use. your manager was busy talking to other people on set. you can feel your heart beating faster by the minute as sae walks closer to you

he was wearing something similar to what you were wearing. dress pants and a white oversized unbuttoned polo. his exposed toned abdomen was probably the main highlight of his outfit with it glistening under the studio lights.

you bit your lip and looked away. sae has always been eye candy, there was no denying that. you were surprised yourself when you managed to bag him during his rookie days, but now that he was almost, if not an A list celebrity with his elite status in the world of football, you can almost say that itoshi sae was totally out of your league

you come back to your senses when the photographer claps his hands and muses how you and sae have insane chemistry that he has ever witnessed. you let out a little huff at the comment.

‘if only he knew’ you think to yourself, avoiding sae’s gaze as much as possible

the shoot starts and the photographer instructs sae to hover over you while holding the perfume bottle. sae nods and does what he’s told, he’s a professional after all. he wouldn’t let his personal feelings interfere with his work. that was the golden rule in the industry

you locked eyes with sae for the first time in years. he still had those fiery teal eyes that gets you weak in the knees each time. your eyes slowly dart from his eyes to his lips.

“keep doing that y/n!” the photographer cheers, clicking away on his camera. did you do something in your past life that you would inevitably end up in an awkward situation like this. a situation wherein you and your ex lover, in a position where you two are posing like an actual couple

your eyes flicker back from sae’s lips to his eyes again. for a second there you thought you felt a spark, a connection, an old flame that has been rekindled at that very moment.

til it all comes back to you in a flash

you forgot you hated him. you hate itoshi sae and you could’ve sworn itoshi sae hated you too.

the bitter taste is still in your mouth after all these years. how could you forget the man who broke your little heart in two?

it was childish really. looking back at it now, where you were merely just starting out as a rookie model and sae being the same, a rookie at his profession. just two kids having a similar situation in two whole different industries. it was hard not to get entangled.

you were always known to be sae's long time lover. you were always supportive of his games. present whenever you can, sitting at the exclusive VIP section of the stadiums, wearing his number on your back; and if you weren’t able to attend due to your own schedules, you would still manage to find the time to support him. may it be posting an instagram story that you were watching him on your phone while you were getting your makeup done or wearing his jersey on the day of the game

sae was the same. he would always be seen wearing the stuff from brands you’ve modeled for. from jewelries to exclusive clothing lines, sae would always be seen wearing them, his silent way of showing support in your own craft.

you were proud of him, and he was proud of you too.

but as all things are, good things come and go. even in the most unexpected times.

there were already rumors circulating that you and sae were ready to tie the knot, some news outlets even stating that maybe you two have gone ahead and tied the knot at some island during your secret little rendezvous. (having been caught going to santorini for more than multiple occasions)

the public has always been supportive of your relationship throughout the years. even earning the title as the nation’s sweethearts with how they’ve seen your relationship blossom from puppy love to what they call as “true love”

with the news that the nation’s sweethearts have parted ways, the public was as heartbroken as you.

sae suddenly called it quits after almost five years of dating. it was after he has been taken under the wing of real madrid’s division A where his career as a midfielder really took off. to make matters even worse, he broke it off at the same place he claimed you as his.

since then, you’ve sworn to hate him. you’ve resented him. you felt like all those years that you two have built was nothing. you couldn’t even believe him at first when he spat out the words “we’re over” like it was nothing.

five years, five years worth of unforgettable firsts. five fucking years to unlearn everything.

you were absolutely crushed back then. you even took a hiatus with everything going on in your life. you were a mess. you actually can’t believe sae had no remorse over this. were the five years you were together nothing for him? all those tears you two have shed, the firsts of everything, all those precious memories, were they all nothing?

it hasn’t even been a year or so but it seemed like sae already moved on, which added more salt to your already open wound. he was flourishing with his career while all of this was going on. sae has been photographed multiple times leaving clubs with lipstick stains all over his neck.

it stung of course. seeing him move on with his life as if he didn’t just ruin yours. that very night, you swore to yourself that you will never forgive itoshi sae for what he did.

never again would you open your heart to someone like itoshi sae.

itoshi sae, the man who broke your heart into two.

“earth to y/n?” the photographer snaps his fingers in front of you, breaking your little trance.

you apologize to the photographer, your cheeks heating up at the realization that you really got lost in your thoughts the moment you’ve met eyes with sae.

“as i was saying,” the photographer eyes you and sae, “the shoot is over. well done” he bows, motioning the people behind the scenes to clap for you and sae

almost immediately you stood up from your awkward position from sae. intentionally avoiding his hand that was held out for you to take. (you hate how he was still a gentleman to you, even after all these years)

you look around for your manager and strut towards him.

“we’re leaving. now” you say with no emotion in your voice, even walking farther ahead from your now confused manager.

he takes a look around on what could’ve made you pissed off but sees no one but itoshi sae in the flesh.

“but y/n, itoshi sae is here-” your manager gets cut off when there was a loud slam of a door nearby. he winces when he realizes it was you. he turns around and bows his head at the people on set.

“i apologize for y/n’s actions”

with that, your manager runs after you.

sae could only stare at your direction with mixed feelings. a part of him was relieved that he got to see you again after all these years, yet he doesn’t understand why he was feeling off to find out that you still resented him. i mean, that was what he expected for his own actions all those years ago.

with a click of a tongue, he goes back to his own manager so they can finally go home after a long day.

you don’t even know why you were crying. tears blurring your vision as you try to find the exit out of this damned building.

you harshly wipe your tears, opening the last door to your left. you were met with the harsh, cold air of japan. you weren’t looking where you were going, barely even noticing that someone was by the door til you bumped into them.

the steel floors were making it hard to walk in your heels. so when you bumped into the said stranger, you lost your balance.

the stranger had quick reflexes. they immediately caught you by your waist and your hands flew to their chest to keep yourself steady. you looked up at the stranger to apologize only to meet eyes again with the same teal eyes that belonged to no one other than sae fucking itoshi

you don’t know how long you two have been in this position until you see a bright flash in your peripheral vision.

you have just been papped by paparazzi with your ex boyfriend and sworn enemy, itoshi sae.

002.

the headlines in both social media, news outlets and the such were exactly how you expected it.

it was crazy.

the general public going wild, thinking that the once famed couple were now back together after how many years.

your phone was blowing up with emails upon emails. calls from friends and relatives to confirm the news themselves that you’ve been seeing sae again. you look at your manager beside you apologetically as he receives another phone call from what you think is another e-news outlet asking if the rumors circulating were true.

you have been summoned by your company for an emergency meeting as the whole situation was getting out of hand.

that was when you realize how big of a name itoshi sae was after all these years of blocking his name on twitter.

your PR team is currently a mess. they are currently working their asses off to put out a good story for your sudden reunion with the famed midfielder.

“how many times do i have to tell you to be careful being papped after a shoot?” the head of your PR team, pinches the bridge of their nose. clearly this wasn’t the first time around

“i was!” you defend yourself, “i didn’t even know it was him til i looked up..” you murmured

your manager facepalms at your response. how did you not know it was sae?

“so what i’m getting here..” the head puts their glasses on the table, “you didn’t “know” that it was the itoshi sae, your partner for this specific photoshoot, the famed midfielder of real madrid, itoshi sae?” they quote, looking at you like you just grew another head

you nod in content, “exactly” you grin, putting your thumbs up. in hopes it raises the mood. (it doesn’t, unfortunately)

“y/n, i hope you know this isn’t just something we can brush under the rug. this is not the same situation with yukimiya kenyu where you two were caught being cozy in his car”

“yuki was literally just driving me home! and we’re close friends!” you defend yourself, yet again.

“exactly! yukimiya is a close friend! while itoshi sae is not. that’s why this is such a big deal!”

you slump back to your seat. okay, maybe they were right. this was a lot harder to get around with especially since the public knows about your past relationship.

“luckily for you, we have talked things out with itoshi sae’s management,” it was your manager’s turn to talk. he stands up from the seat beside you and walks over to your PR team’s head. they exchange glances before nodding.

“we have come up with a way that this whole issue will be over soon” your manager starts.

as if on cue, the doors of the meeting room suddenly open. you take a look on who could be entering this sacred room this late. surely it couldn’t be more of your PR team as they were all already present in the room.

there stood with their hand still on the doorknob is no one other than sae, with his manager right behind him.

your jaw drops as you put two and two together.

you whipped your head towards your manager and the head of your PR team in both horror and disbelief.

no, it can’t be…

“you two will now be in an arranged relationship for the meanwhile. until your situation dies down” sae’s manager finishes, taking a seat next to sae, who took the seat next to you.

you could see your manager squeeze his eyes shut, knowing where this is going. you were about to have a fit right here right now.

“WHAT?!” you let out a loud scream. the whole floor probably heard you.

sae also winces at how ear-piercing your scream was.

you abruptly stood up from your seat, snatching your purse from the table and stomped out of the meeting room. not forgetting to slam the door shut on the way out.

immediately you called up your two closest friends, reo and yukimiya to meet you at your apartment ASAP.

003.

“so you’re telling me– us,” yukimiya pauses, looking between you, who has mascara running down your cheeks and reo, who was busy rubbing circles on your back as he hands you another tissue for you to blow your nose on, “that you are going to be in an arranged relationship with your ex, itoshi sae.. am i getting that right?” yukimiya confirms, waiting for your response

you nod before blowing your nose and throwing the now used tissue on the rising pile of tissues behind you.

“this is the worst day of my fucking life” you cried out, reaching out to reo to cry on his shoulders.

“oh, y/n” reo sighs, pulling you into his embrace as you cry your eyes out.

you pull away from reo’s embrace, “i mean, why him, why now?!” you rambled, words getting choked up.

both reo and yukimiya could only frown. after all, even with their power, money and status, there was nothing they could do to help with your situation.

your doorbell suddenly rings, catching all three of you in surprise. who could be at your door right now?

yukimiya took the initiative of opening the door, only to be met with the eyes of the itoshi sae. barely noticing your manager behind him.

sae raises his eyebrow at the man in front of him. who was he and why was he at your apartment?

“yukimiya-san! i didn’t know you were over..” your manager sheepishly greets yuki, trying to break the growing tension between him and sae.

“who’s out there, yuki?” you croak out, trying to take a peek at the door from reo’s shoulders.

“it’s me, y/n” you hear your manager call out. you look at reo in confusion. what was your manager doing here?

gradually, you slowly stood up from your kitchen island and walked over to your front door.

now, you just expected a scolding from your manager from your little fit back at the company, that’s why he was at your place or so you thought. what you didn’t expect that you’d see itoshi sae again but this time, in your own space.

“have you lost your fucking mind?” you shot a look at your manager, who only winces as a response.

“y/n- i can explain-“

“i made him take me here” sae speaks up for the first time. you felt your breath hitched. it’s been so long since you last talked to him, let alone heard him speak. (you’ve done everything you can and blocked every single thing related to sae. that meant interviews, news articles, you name it, you had his name and everything blocked and muted)

sae invites himself inside your apartment with your manager following suit as you stand there at your front door, stunned.

reo is equally as shocked as you are when he sees itoshi sae casually walk to your living room as if it was his. before reo could open his mouth to say something, you come running in, fuming.

“who the fuck told you you can come inside MY house” you spat. your attitude turning a whole 180.

sae only raises an eyebrow at you. “our team” he casually says. he then looks at your manager and cocks his head towards your direction. like he was trying to get your manager to tell you something.

“what now?!” this time it was your manager’s turn to get yelled at by you. he winces again before checking for something in his ipad.

“since you um.. walked out at our meeting earlier today… both managements has come to terms that you and itoshi sae would be living together for the meantime”

silence fills the room, the entire apartment if we were being honest

your vision goes dark, the next thing you know and you black out.

as you slowly regain your consciousness, you hear some people talking. well, to you it sounded like they were slurring because you couldn’t really comprehend what they were saying. slowly, you open your eyes. the first person you see is a frantic reo who seemed to be fanning your face with yukimiya holding your hand

“where am i?” you grunt, feeling some dull ache on the back of your head and lower back.

“you fainted” sae points out. staring at you who was on the ground. you sat up and stared at sae, wide eyed. “what the hell is he still doing here?!” you ask in distraught. you thought everything prior to this was all just a fever dream, or a nightmare as you’d like to call it

your manager, who was getting you a glass of water comes running to your aid. he crouches and tells you to drink up- to which you do.

“we were discussing your current situation with itoshi sae until you fainted… ” your manager starts, you choke on your water after hearing those words but thankfully didn’t start a coughing fit. you motioned your manager to continue so that you’d finally hear the end of this dreadful moment

your manager's eyes flicker between you and sae, “we’ve come up with an agreement that until the time being, itoshi sae would be living with you and you’d market yourselves as a couple. sae has already consented and agreed with the contract and your PR team as well…” he finishes, clutching his ipad close to his chest

reo, who was listening intently, felt like it was unfair for you to be in this type of situation regardless if it was an order from your company

“isn’t unfair for y/n though? she herself didn’t consent to this contract right? doesn’t this violate her own rights of code of ethics?” reo interferes, giving your manager a look. you look at reo and smiled. maybe you’ll ask him to contact the finest lawyers of japan that he knows after this

your manager was about to speak up but sae beat him to it.

“i was the one who suggested this whole setup, not their company. so technically, this isn’t “violating y/n’s rights of code of ethics” as it’s not even printed on a contract because simply, there is no contract” sae states, mocking reo’s tone of voice, giving him a side eye before turning his attention back to you.

this time it was yukimiya who steps in. he turns to sae with his eyebrows raised. “isn’t there another way to get around this? not just by your means?” yukimiya pauses, pushing his glasses up, “i mean, why does it have to be like this where you’ll live with y/n for an issue that could be squashed with just a single article denying your relationship or involvement with y/n?”

sae sits up straight, staring yukimiya down with an icy stare. “this doesn’t concern you”

yukimiya and reo both stand up, “actually it does. y/n is our friend” reo hisses, glaring at the red head who merely just yawns and rolls his eyes.

was sae even taking this seriously?

sae sighs, a bored expression on his face. “this is matters between me and y/n only”

finally having enough of his bullshit, you got up from the ground and walked in front of sae.

“what exactly are you planning, itoshi sae?” you narrow your eyes at him. this was the first time in years you’ve looked at him. you note how appearance wise, he hasn’t changed one bit.

sae chuckles a bit, catching you by surprise. what’s so funny?

“drop the formalities, y/n. you know me better than everyone else in this room” he scoffs, eyeing you from head to toe.

sae won’t lie. he thinks you were still beautiful the day he left you. to him, you were always the prettiest in the room and from the way his heart raced after seeing you for the first time again in years, he knows himself that thought stayed the same.

he watches your eyes soften for a second before it goes back to your signature glare.

“actually, I don't,” you say dryly, crossing your arms. “so, tell me. what exactly are you gonna get out of this?”

sae sighs. he doesn’t know himself either but he wasn’t just about to say that out loud. he doesn’t know what got into him all of a sudden. was it because he was curious about how you were doing? was he intrigued? did he somehow miss you all of a sudden because he saw you again?

a part of him always longed for you even after you two have gone your own separate ways. it was hard not to, considering you have spent a chunk of your lives together. not to mention, you two grew up with each other and built blossoming careers together hand in hand.

it was only until he finally got recruited for division a of real madrid where he thought it would be best if you guys would stop what you have in order to be the best version of himself— wrong.

he realized he fucked up that maybe that wasn’t the best option when he realized he needed you more than ever. you were his best support system. you were always there with him during the hardest times holding his hand but it was already too late. the damage had been done and it was irreversible.

the day he broke up with you, or the day he fucked up everything was also the last time he ever saw or heard from you ever again.

sae tried. he tried and tried and tried to reach out to you. he tried searching for your socials, your contact information, literally everything he can get his hands on. but even with his power and money in the world, it was still not enough to find you.

the only updates he had of you was the ads that were plastered all around social media and in the busy shopping districts of the cities he’s in. it was almost like a constant reminder of what he lost.

so shocked was an understatement when you were his partner for the commercial shoot his manager had booked him for some random luxury brand.

after all those years, he found you again.

to say the stars were on his side when you two got papped by the paparazzi is a bit selfish on sae’s end. as much as he fucking despises the paparazzi as they tend to ruin things for him, he’s quite glad that for once that they did something right.

they brought you back to him.

so sae couldn’t just let this opportunity of a lifetime slide. even if this so called “scandal” could easily just be cleared out with a simple denying of such rumor. but sae couldn’t just let this end like that.

he wants to fix everything he broke. sae wants another chance.

“this is pointless” you deadpan, after waiting for sae to speak. he was just sitting there, staring right back at you for god knows how long that you begin to become conscious.

sae looked like he just snapped out of his train of thought as he shook his head before clearing his throat.

“it’s a win-win situation for both of us” sae blurts, “you get more publicity out of this–”

yukimiya and reo both looked at him like he was crazy.

“excuse you— with or without you, y/n is already famous. hell, you don’t even know how many brands are waiting for her to reach back at them!”

“do you live under a rock or something? how do you not know y/n is one of the, if not the number one top model of the country?”

you were secretly thankful that you called both yukimiya and reo beforehand. not only you got an ego boost, but it gave sae a taste of your own reality that you are where you are now because he left you

a small smirk tugs on your lips when sae frowns. you watch him chew his bottom lip, a telltale sign that he was thinking of something to save his ass

“well, if you aren’t gonna get something out of this.. i have” you say, catching everyone’s attention, including your own manager.

your manager looks at you with his head tilted to the side. mouthing “what do you mean?”

“i’ll only agree to this if after this whole scandal is over, i don’t ever want to see you again” you propose to sae. it was only fair for it to end like this as one, he was the one who suggested this idea in the first place. two, you can never be too complacent with sae who apparently has no motive regarding this. this was sae we’re talking about, he’s bound to plot something and three, you can finally find the answers you’ve been yearning for after all these years. might as well use this as an opportunity to get your well deserved closure.

there was a glint of hope in sae’s eyes.

“deal”

you hear yukimiya and reo yell a bunch of lines like “seriously y/n?” but all you can focus on is sae who’s also looking right back at you.

your manager claps his hands in joy, immediately dialing your company about your decision. sae takes this time to call his own manager to probably tell him to bring his stuff in.

did you make the right decision? you’re not too sure. only time can tell.

004.

today was the first day of you officially “dating” sae again.

also the first day of living with sae, for the meantime

just a little after you’ve come to an agreement with sae with the set up of your rekindled “relationship”, both managements didn’t waste a single second on confirming the news that the nation’s sweethearts have gone back together

needless to say, both of your names are trending and is the current talk of the town

so your first agenda (from both PR teams) is that you both post strikingly similar instagram stories as if you were together the night prior. (in which, you two were.. force binded by a non-existent contract)

it was a good thing that you chose an apartment that had a spare guest room because god forbid you’d even dare to sleep in the same bed with your ex.

you didn’t give sae a warning that you were already gonna post something. just a quick snap of your window, that holds the view of shibuya, with a little sunlight peeking through. you captioned it with a little “good morning indeed” with a cheeky emoji just to spice things up.

sae, who was in the next room, was casually scrolling through instagram when he sees that you posted a new instagram story. he clicks his tongue in annoyance at the fact you didn’t even give him a heads up. quickly improvising, he took a mirror selfie from the vanity mirror that you have around in your guest bedroom.

you started your day with making your own breakfast. not even bothering to call sae. hell, he can starve for all you care. after all, he was not your responsibility. you only agreed to do this because frankly you had no other choice from your company.

while waiting for your eggs, it didn’t take you a while to also notice that sae already posted his part of the agenda. thinking of it as nothing, you innocently clicked on his profile. his story loads and wow. resonating with your caption, good morning indeed!

sae posted a shirtless mirror selfie. he was still under the covers but made sure his torso was seen on the mirror.

“take a screenshot, it’d last longer” sae says flatly, moving past you to your fridge. you jolt in surprise, almost dropping your phone in the process. “what the fuck!” you yell out, a hand over your chest.

you hear sae chuckling behind you and the fridge opening

“you got all that money stocked up somewhere and yet you don’t even have groceries?” sae comments, noting your almost empty fridge. there were only some milk boxes and some of those edible collagen jellies that help you with swelling when you have early morning shoots and the such.

sae takes the last chocolate milk box you had that was hidden away at the back of your fridge

“well, my manager does it for me and i usually eat at reo’s or yukimiya’s– is that the last of my milk?!” you pried your eyes off your phone to see sae casually sipping on the last milk box you were saving

“so?”

“that’s mine” you argued, getting up from the kitchen island to snatch it from sae. you stomp over to him and tried to swipe it off his hands. unfortunately for you, sae is an athlete and that meant he had reflexes like no other. he raises his arm high just before you were able to grab the milk box from him.

“sae, give it back” you grit your teeth, standing on your tippy toes, trying or attempting to take the milk box from sae’s hold but the height difference is just something else.

sae leans down and gets all over your face. “come on, you can do it,” he teases, eyes fixated on yours.

this feeling almost felt too familiar. almost like a wave of nostalgia just hit you in the face. the memories you’ve been trying to suppress all coming back

you snapped out of your little trance when you realized the position you two were in.

“my eggs are burning” you lie, leaving sae dumbfounded. you scurry off to your stove to finish what you were cooking while sae goes and sits on your kitchen island.

he watches you plate your breakfast and sit on the other end of the kitchen island. you actually felt him staring but chose to ignore him. the sound of his stomach grumbling breaks the awkward silence.

“where’s my breakfast?” he asks, voice small

you shrug, “i don’t know”

“you didn’t make me one?”

“why will i?” you raise a brow, happily munching on your bacon while sae could only look at you in disbelief.

later that day you two had your own schedules. he had practice and other stuff to do while you had another meeting about different commercial offers and a lunch date with reo and yukimiya just like you promised the two.

you got home later than sae. you were about to grab some water from the fridge when you notice that it was fully stocked with groceries. you can’t help but smile a little at the gesture.

you did your usual night routine before getting comfy in bed. just before you were about to hit the hay, you don’t forget to send sae a quick message, thanking him for the groceries.

[11:43] you: thanks for doing the groceries ig

[11:44] sae: i couldn’t just let myself starve here, can i?

you rolled your eyes at his reply. he’s still so sarcastic even after all these years

[11:45] you: whatever 🙄

[11:46] sae: i also restocked that milk you love so much. call it truce from earlier today

[11:46] you: who told you it was my favorite? 🤨

[11:47] sae: gut feeling, call it old habit

you raised a brow at his text. what did he mean by that? before you could type your reply, your phone notifies you that sae sent another message

[11:49] sae: jk. your manager told me

you didn’t realize you were holding in your breath. you let out a sigh of relief after reading his message. you were not gonna let him get under your skin. not anymore

you ended up not replying to him. instead, you shut your phone off to reflect on today’s events, hoping that this all ends soon. your phone suddenly dings again. it was a notification from sae.

[11:55] sae: i’m going to sleep now. goodnight, y/n

it’s officially been a week of living with sae and pretending to be a couple in front of the cameras and the public. to think you’d even last this long is an understandment on it’s own.

for this day, both managements wanted you two to be seen out and about in public doing whatever you two wished to do.

you were debating on what you two should do that won’t involve much physical contact like going out for shopping because that only meant that you two would be forced to hold hands which is something you don’t want to do for obvious reasons. you’d rather die than to be papped with sae holding hands

“what do you want to do today?” sae asks from the couch. you two were already all dressed up. intentionally matching your outits just for the sake of it. sae was wearing a maroon turtleneck with holes in them with a white long sleeve shirt underneath and some track pants? you don't question his outfit much further because why would you exert the effort to do so?

you were wearing something similar. a maroon crop top with some leggings to match the laid back outfit of your fake boyfriend.

“what can we do without much physical contact?” you pondered, a finger tapping on your chin. sae scoffs at your question, mumbling about what’s wrong with physical contact with him. you almost wanted to tell him “everything” but that would just start another argument today

“how about we get some coffee?” sae offers, unable to think of more activities to do in such short notice. you hum in agreement, coffee does sound good right now. you get up from the couch and grab the keys to your car

“what are you doing?” sae asked. you stop in your tracks and hold out your keys for him to see. “we’re taking my car” sae says, showing off his.

not putting up much of a fight, you agreed. it was getting tiring driving yourself around anyway.

you two arrive at the coffee shop sae graciously let you choose in no time (by graciously, he meant that he’s good with anything you choose) you then decide on sitting by the window where you know the paparazzi will be in front at in no time to capture this date between rekindled lovers

you sit at your chosen table by the window while you wait for sae to order something for the both of you. telling him that you’re okay with whatever since this cafe was your favorite.

it didn’t take sae that long to come back with your orders. he sets the tray down and you find an abundance of sweets and pastries. you look up at him confused but he simply shrugs. he then places your drink down. you take the receipt that was hanging off the tray to read everything he has ordered.

looks like he ordered everything on the menu with the sweets and pastries, which is not surprising really. when you read what he got you however,

“you ordered me a spanish latte?” you ask, taking the drink from the table.

sae nods, taking a sip from his own drink. “something wrong?”

you shake your head no. you just can’t wrap your head at the fact he ordered your usual go-to drink.

“nothing, it’s just i'm surprised that you still remember what i usually order in coffee shops” you shrug, finally sipping on your drink. spanish lattes does always hit the spot for you

“do you think i have forgotten?” sae raises a brow, a slight frown forming on his lips. you rolled your eyes at his comment.

“well, it’s been a while, don’t you think?” you retort, avoiding his hard stare. technically, it’s been almost two years since the breakup. one of you were bound to forget each other’s habits and the such.

there was silence again after that. an awkward one at that

“let’s take our post now so we can leave” you say, taking pictures of the food in front of you while keeping sae in the frame. sae simply nods and does the same. the photo you decided to post was mostly all the food sae ordered with him in the background. you purposely cut off his head just for the thrill of it. you do tag sae in the instagram story though with the caption “coffee run”

sae’s post was a bit different. he simply posted a candid shot of you taking pictures of the food in front of you. for captions, sae isn’t much of a caption person because he thinks they defeat the purpose of photos so instead he just adds a heart emoji with your username next to it.

it didn’t take much for the paparazzi to find your whereabouts. just like planned, they were outside the window you two were seated in taking photos after photos.

“do we go now?” sae asks, eyeing the amount of people that were outside the cafe.

“yeah..” you trail off, not really expecting a whole crowd to form outside. sae must've sensed that you were tensed with the way he stands next to you when you two were leaving the coffee shop

the moment you two step foot outside, it was an absolute frenzy. the press were everywhere on your faces. asking questions from all sorts of directions that it actually made you dizzy.

you were never one for crowded crowds. especially when they topple over each other just to take the perfect photo or get an exclusive. it was just never your cup of tea

you covered your eyes from the bright flashes that were all over your face, trying to maneuver around the paparazzi to get to sae’s car faster but the paparazzi was too much for you to handle. you instinctively leaned on sae for support as your legs start to feel wobbly. sae immediately catches on and wraps an arm around your waist securely, pushing forward against the hoarde of people in front of you guys

“get out of the fucking way!” sae barks, pushing the people in front of your faces. the group of paparazzi do make way for you guys as you finally reach sae’s car.

sae unlocks the car and opens the passenger door for you to enter first. he shields any possible camera that was trying to capture your face with his body. even going as far as pushing them away making some of the paparazzi stumble and fall on their asses.

once you were secured in your seat, he runs over to his side of the car and starts the car before speeding off. not wasting a single second for some short interview.

“you okay?” sae steals a glance at your slumped state, before turning his attention back to the road in front of him.

“... yeah, just dizzy” you say meekly, rubbing your temples. “i’m gonna rest my eyes for a bit, sae” you murmur, leaning against the window before drifting off to sleep.

sae sighs and speeds up faster so you two could get home sooner. ‘damn paparazzi’ he thinks to himself, not noticing how his knuckles have turned white with how hard he was gripping the steering wheel.

the car comes to a halt when the traffic lights beam red. sae couldn’t help but look at your state. he always knew you were bad with crowds but yet you still fulfilled your lifelong dream to be a model. he wonders who took care of you during flash mobs when you were out in the streets.

was it your manager? was it that reo guy? or was it yukimiya aka that person he doesn’t really like. sae hates how close you are with him. sae will also never forget your scandal with him. he can still remember it like it was yesterday when the news dropped that you may or may not be in a relationship with your fellow model yukimiya kenyu after being papped being cozy inside his car.

practice was hell that day for real madrid and sae may or may not have punctured a soccer ball out of pure rage.

the damned light finally turns green and thankfully you were at the last street before the turn to your apartment complex.

sae parks the car and turns to take a good look at your sleeping figure. you look too peaceful to wake up. so he gets out of the car and goes to your side to pick you up bridal style.

he gently puts one of your arms around his neck (for safe measure) and loops his under your knees to carry you. with the help of the security guards around, he presses the elevator up to your penthouse suite.

for once in his life, sae is thankful that he was an athlete as he successfully tapped in your passcode to unlock your front door with you in his arms. when he reaches your bedroom, he gently sets you down on your bed.

sae was about to leave to make some dinner just before you wake up but was stopped by your hand reaching for his.

“stay..” you mumbled, tugging his arm. sae hesitates for a bit, unsure if you were actually conscious or was just sleep talking. sae watches your eyebrows furrow when you notice he still wasn’t beside you. clicking your tongue in annoyance, you tug on sae’s arm harder so he gets the hint

“okay, okay” sae hums, slowly getting in your bed. he’s unsure himself on what he should do. should he stay still, wrap an arm around you, what?

to his surprise, you were snuggling next to him. your head nestling to his chest. sae lets out a small gasp. he definitely didn’t see this coming.

coming to a realization that no harm would be done if he wraps an arm around you, he slowly drapes his arm over your waist. sae suddenly feels like he was on top of the world, like everything suddenly made sense to sae.

sae caresses your cheek, brushing the stray hairs from your face.

“you still look beautiful the day i lost you..” sae whispers. he debates on stealing a kiss. he weighs out the pros and the cons and figures that it was more of a liability if you ever find out he stole a kiss from you, especially when you were asleep. that’s gonna have to be for another time.

sae was beginning to feel sleepy. he carefully drapes the duvet across your bodies. not even a moment later, sae is now fast asleep with you in his arms

you find yourself plush against something hard and warm. you try tossing to the other side but you were being held securely around your waist. your eyes shot up, now fully awake and aware of your surroundings.

“good morning” sae rasps, his morning voice sending shivers down your spine.

“what are you doing in my bed?” you whisper-yelled, actually genuinely surprised to see him next to you. your heart was racing, like it was about to jump out of your chest. did something happened yesterday? you couldn’t quite remember everything after leaving the coffee shop. it almost felt like a hazy dream

sae reluctantly unwraps his arm around you and scoots to the edge of the bed. you almost pout at the warmth that disappears but you internally scold yourself for thinking of such things.

“you passed out in the car and i brought you here” sae explains, now sitting up. “i’ll go make breakfast. stay put” he pats your leg before excusing himself to leave your bedroom. you lay there confused because that wasn’t enough to explain why he was quite literally sleeping next to you.

just the mere fact that you slept next to him sent you into a frenzy. you grab your phone and immediately dialed reo

“hello?” reo answers groggily, you checked your phone for the time and it was literally 8 in the morning.

“reo!” you hushed, trying not to catch the attention of sae “something happened yesterday!”

“what?”

“we slept together…?” your voice going up an octave, chewing on your lip as you await for reo’s reaction

a beat of silence passes by. you thought reo may have accidentally ended the call

“YOU DID WHAT?!” reo basically screams at your ear. you had to remove your phone from your ear from the impact of reo’s shrill scream. “DON’T TELL ME YOU GOT BACK TOGETHER WITH HIM IN JUST A WEEK’S NOTICE—”

“NOT IN THAT WAY, DIPSHIT” you say abruptly, cutting reo off. “i mean like.. we just slept in the same bed after yesterday’s turn of events…” you trail off, trying to remember every significant detail that eventually lead up to you and sae ultimately sleeping with each other.

“my guess is with the paparazzi. i just saw the photos” reo says, typing away on his keyboard. “not gonna lie y/n, you and sae do make a good couple” he adds, giggling

you huff over the phone, earning a hefty laugh from the other end.

“talk to him. clearly you need it” reo advices. it was like he knows where this was going. “ i gotta go for now, y/n. i’ll call you back later. duty calls. ciao!” reo ends the call before you could even say something.

you threw your phone on the other side of the bed, groaning as you put your head in your hands. what was happening to you

there was a faint knock on your door, probably sae was gonna tell you that breakfast was ready but to your surprise, he brought the breakfast to you.. in bed.

sae walks in with a little bed tray that you didn’t even know you owned filled with some breakfast.

“was all this necessary?” you say in disbelief. sae simply shrugs and sits by the foot of your bed.

“i contacted your manager about your state and he says he’ll be coming over to check up on you later” he notes, typing away on his phone with one hand. sae turns to you and motions for you to start digging in. “c’mon, eat up”

you feel your face heat up at his extravagant gestures. he was a man of service after all. even during your relationship, sae wasn’t the type to be vocal about his love for you. it was mostly through actions may it be subtle or not. you can feel the love with the way he does everything for you.

with a small smile, you start to eat the breakfast he made.

“sae,” you call. he looks up from his phone, a confused look on his face.

“need something?”

“come here” you motioned for him to scoot closer to you. to which he happily obliges. he is now sitting right in front of you.

he watches you cut a piece of your pancake and stabbed it with your fork before holding it up for him.

“here,” you say sheepishly, not even looking at sae in the eye. sae looked at you like you just lost your mind.

“can’t let you not eat your own cooking..” you mumbled, feeling your face burn in both embarrassment or something you can’t pinpoint. with a chuckle, he takes the fork from you. unintentionally brushing your hands together.

in an instant, you snatch your hand back as he quietly eats the pancake you’ve given him.

things are changing between you and sae and you’re not sure if you like it.

005.

it’s been a few days since the whole ordeal with you and sae in bed together. your management gave you guys a few days off just to keep things at bay with the paparazzi after the whole fiasco of you almost fainting because of the sea of paparazzi outside trying to take photos.

your manager did end up checking up on you that day just like sae has mentioned. you told him off that you were fine and just needed more resting before you can resume with your work. he reluctantly agrees and goes ahead and reports your status with your company.

reo and yukimiya also came over for the past few days. just to check things up with you after your pictures were published for the public. you had a talk with your two closest friends about your current situation with sae.

yukimiya was a bit unsure for you while reo advised that they’ll be there with you for every decision you make. he also opted that you two should have an open forum about each other’s whereabouts since the break up. clearly you still had unanswered questions.

sae was out again for his daily practice. although he did tell you that he’d be back around the afternoon.

you take this opportunity of being alone to actually think about everything for the past week.

this few weeks has been a whole rollercoaster. not only you’ve been reunited with your ex, you had to be in a “fake” relationship with him again for the media, and now it’s like you and sae were back to your old routines all those years ago.

a part of you does miss being able to call sae as yours, not just for the sake of the cameras but just because you really do love him and you want to be with him, but this time for real. yet, another part of you is scared that maybe there’s a catch to this. maybe in the end sae was just using you for his own sake.

you made a promise to yourself that you were not gonna have him play with your heart like that anymore. not again, never again.

but here you are, willing to take the same risk again. the things you are willing to do just to call him yours.

because at the end of the day, it will always be itoshi sae.

no one else has your heart the way sae has it.

you barely notice that sae has arrived back from practice til he was waving a hand in front of your face.

“y/n” he jabs a finger at the side of your head, an amused look on his face. “what are you thinking about?” sae hums, plopping down on the couch next to you.

“nothing much, just about life”you hissed, clutching the spot he just poked you. you leaned back on the couch, stealing a glance at sae but you made eye contact instead. immediately you looked away, feeling your cheeks heat up.

sae snickers next to you, a small smile on his face as he takes a good look at you.

“having a midlife crisis at your young age?” sae pokes your sides making you jump. you let out a little yelp, causing sae to smirk.

“don’t even think about it sae itoshi— AH!” you hold your hands out in defense mode. you know that devilish look on sae’s face. sae’s fingers reach your sides before you could even finish your menacing (not) threat.

your laughter fills the living room.

oh how sae missed this. how he missed coming home from practice and to have you wait for him. how sae missed you.

sae stops tickling you to let you catch your breath. barely even noticing the position you two were in. he was on top of you, hands on each side of your head. your cheeks painted red, chest rising rapidly as you try to control your breathing.

“can i kiss–”

the front door slams open to reveal reo and yukimiya in tow with some food.

“y/n! we brought you some food!” reo happily chirps, setting the food down on your kitchen counter. sae’s eyes immediately widen and rushes to get off of you. he stumbles and falls on the floor, just right in front of reo’s feet.

reo and sae make eye contact. reo awkwardly smiles at the now embarrassed sae.

but sae being sae, he brushed it off like he was in the middle of push ups.

“... and 50. 50 push ups done” sae puffs, pushing himself off the ground, pretending to wipe the non existent sweat on his forehead and ushers away to his room. not missing reo’s comment before he slams the door shut.

“i’m gonna just pretend i didn’t see you fall right in front of me” reo cackles, wiping a tear from his eye. “anyway y/n, we got you some food. i forgot that athlete was living with you sooo.. it’s up to you to give his share” reo shows you the amount of food he just got you.

yukimiya giggles behind him. he pulls reo to the side before giving you his infamous smirk

“reo, we gotta go now” yukimiya smiles slyly at you. he takes a good look at your ruffled shirt, flushed cheeks and messy hair.

“what? we just got here!” reo complains, looking back at yukimiya, who points out your current state. he then whispers something to reo that you obviously can’t hear. you stand there with your arms crossed, eyebrows raised as you wait for your two best friends to fill you in

“i’m literally right here” you rolled your eyes.

“oh!” reo gasps, eyes wide as he seems to put two and two together. he covers his mouth like he just witnessed something scandalous.

you were about to open your mouth to say protest against what allegations yukimiya has of you but both reo and yukimiya bolt out the door. yelling about how they were sorry for disturbing something while cackling.

“those bitches..” you muttered, shaking your head. you walk over to the kitchen to go through what reo just got you. of course it was his favorite steak with some side dishes.

“are they gone?” you hear sae call out from his room, his head poking out the door.

you laugh, “yeah. you can come out now”

you hear the door open and sae comes walking in the kitchen with nothing but sweatpants. you let out a squeak as your hands fly to your eyes, covering them from seeing sae’s half naked body.

sae scoffs at your reaction. “you’re acting like you aren’t used to it”

“was used to it” you correct him. sae’s mood drops a bit. you awkwardly fiddle with the hem of the plastic. taking out the plastic containers to at least lift up the now sour atmosphere.

sae looks at the meals you’ve settled down on the counter. “from reo?” he asks, going ahead and taking out some chopsticks.

he must be starving from coming home after practice.

you slid the plastic container that held reo’s favorite steak to sae. his eye widens and shakes his head. he pushes it back to you. it becomes a silent tug of war. sae ended up losing because you were starting to get upset and he can tell by the way your lips are jutted out and you were pushing harder, causing some of the sauce to spill out.

“okay, damn..” sae mutters, accepting his defeat. you let out a victory cheer by dancing a little in your seat. sae couldn’t help but smile. now here you were, watching him chomp down the food reo initially got for you.

“let’s head out somewhere” sae says, poking you with his chopsticks. you swat his hands away as you scowl at him. going out all of a sudden after he just ate?

“where are we going?”

“places”

you look up at him unsure. you didn’t really want to go anywhere this week knowing that paparazzi might be up on your asses again. you weren’t gonna risk your health again for just some dumb post

“but we’re on break with posting though” you protest. was sae really serious about heading out?

sae pouts and looks at you with pleading eyes. something he only pulls when he really wants to do something or get his way. something you couldn’t resist. you guessed old habits really die hard

“please?”

you avert your gaze elsewhere because those teal eyes are only trouble for you. you hear sae sigh beside you and you realized that was your last straw.

“fine”

you look back at sae who had a small smile on his face. his face screaming “i know you still can’t resist me” and quite frankly you wanted to punch the living daylights out of his smug face.

“i’m not gonna get dressed up or anything though. just a hoodie and a hat to keep our identities hidden” you say, getting up from the barstool to head over to your room to get an oversized hoodie and your hat.

“wasn’t counting on it” sae says, humming to himself that he got you to agree.

it didn’t take long for you guys to get moving. you two were now on your way to wherever sae was taking you. even if you kept asking where you two were going, sae simply shushes you and tells you to just sit back and relax

you were leaning towards the window, watching the city skies fade as you two drive aimlessly around the city. your phone connected to his aux, softly playing some tunes in the background.

your eyes peer over to sae who had one hand on the steering wheel, while the other was used to prop himself up against the window. you find yourself smiling at the memories going back to you.

the old late night drives with sae just to clear your minds.

the route sae was taking you felt awfully familiar. you sit up straight and looked outside to see that you were going up a familiar hill. you snap your head towards sae. sae catches your stare and winks at your direction.

the car eventually comes to a stop. sae silently turns off the car and gets out with you following behind him. there you realize where he took you. sae took you back to your favorite spot to get away from it all. the hilltop where you can get a whole view of the ever so busy city of shibuya.

the same place sae asked you to be his,

the same place sae broke things off with you,

“what are we doing here, sae?” you ask, sitting on top of the hood of his car. sae follows suit. he sits next to you, observing the view in front of him.

“to unwind” he says flatly, putting his hood on. you can’t help but look at him. what did he mean by that?

“you looked pretty occupied today, so i just thought i’d bring you here-”

you furrowed your brows, “then why here?”

sae stays silent. the sound of the city filling your ears. you can’t help but think that it was now or never. it was the perfect time to get things across. for your own peace of mind, and for the sake of it all.

it was silent between you and sae all of a sudden. you almost wanted to laugh at how ironic it is that you’d end up in this place again for the third time in a row with the same person.

‘how nostalgic’ you think to yourself. you get up from the hood of the car and walked towards the wooden fence. just to get a clearer view and to get some air that you so desperately needed before talking to sae.

“you know, this reminds me of the time you took me up here for the first time,” you start, kicking the rocks just by your feet. sae’s ears perk up at the sudden mention of the memory.

“i was so happy that day. to think we’d last for over five years. i was the happiest when i was with you, sae” you continued, smiling to yourself as you recalled everything.

sae can’t help but feel there’s more to what you’re saying. he can’t help but anticipate the bomb that you were about to drop.

“til one day, you brought me out here again. this time, to break up” you turn around to face sae who had an expression you can’t comprehend. his hands were stuffed inside the pockets of his hoodie

“you broke me that day, sae” you breathe out, looking up at the moon. “and to think not even two weeks later i see you with someone else” you let out a laugh. to sae it sounded forced.

“i hate you, sae itoshi” you finally look at him again, sae averts from your hard gaze.

“i hate how you took all my firsts, i hate how you talk to me with that voice, i hate how i know your morning routine better than anyone else, i hate how you always opt to cook because you know i suck at cooking, i hate how you know me like the back of your hand..” you list off, with every list you say, you take a step forward.

“i hate how even after all these years, even after you hurt me, even how you broke me to pieces, i hate how i can’t ever find myself to hate you” you finish. a teardrop running down your cheeks.

“i hate how i still love you..” your voice was shaky. your hands were trembling, here you were, confessing your heart to the guy who initially broke it.

you broke your promise to yourself.

with a deep sigh, you fixed your composure. you harshly wipe the tears that were running down your cheeks before turning your back on sae again to face the city you live in.

“i just have a question for you, sae…” you take a deep breath. finally. you were gonna get the answers to your questions. those times you’ve doubted yourself, those sleepless nights wondering where it all went wrong, nights where you ask yourself if you were ever enough for sae..

you were finally gonna get your well deserved answers.

“why? what did i do wrong? was i not enough for you?”

sae silently moves towards you. he pulls your head to his chest where you freely the tears fall.

you push him off of you, you were not gonna let yourself be fooled much longer.

“was it worth it, sae? was throwing away our years together worth it?” you seethed, tears pricking your eyes.

sae’s eyes widened, “i–”

“you know sae, even if i was in a room with all the people i love the most. i’d still choose you and you all over again. i will always choose you, sae” you cut him off, trembling. words shaking as you are basically spilling your heart to the guy who broke it into a million pieces.

sae’s heart breaks at the scene before him. it was too late for him to realize the damage he has done to you. for you to act like this.

“that’s why i agreed to be in this fake relationship with you. i wanted to find out why you did this to me, to us” you admit, tears now fully flowing. “i just..” you weren’t able to finish what you were trying to sae as you sob in front of sae.

“why sae?.. just, why?”

you barely notice sae approaching. the next thing you knew, he pulls your head to his chest.

“shh… let it out” he says, his free arm rubbing your back as you cry your heart out. finally, after all those years, it felt good to release everything. like a million bricks has been lifted off your shoulders.

sae pulls away, cupping your cheeks as he wipes the tears pouring down your cheeks with his thumb. his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips.

“don’t look at me like that, sae..” you say in a low voice, almost like a whisper. peering away from sae’s eyes.

sae slowly leans in and before he knows it his lips are just ghosting over yours. without a second, sae smashes your lips together.

your eyes widened. you wanted to push him away. you put your hands on his chest ready to push him away, but something in you is stopping you from doing so.

how you missed this. how you missed sae

how sae missed this. how sae missed you

you pull apart, catching your breath. you look up at sae to see him crying too. he cups your cheeks, caressing them with his thumb.

“i’m sorry” was all he could say. he puts his forehead against yours, teal eyes fixated on yours. you can tell with his eyes that he was sincere. sae was also shaking as he holds you, his whole body language screaming guilt.

“i was young and stupid. i thought i’d be better off without you but i realized that i wasn’t. it was too late by then.” he explains, looking down at your feet instead of meeting your eyes.

you put your hand over his, squeezing them. relishing in the moment of two ex lovers putting the past behind them.

“i tried reaching out for you, you know?” sae brings up, laughing to himself at how stupid he sounded. “but knowing you, i knew you’d probably act like you never existed. i had to find out the hard way” he scoffs at the end.

“eventually, the stars brought me to you again” sae finally looks at you in the eye. “i took that as a chance to try and redeem myself. i think it failed though,” sae admits sheepishly, “i was persistent. i wanted you back and i did everything i can just to keep you with me”

you listen to sae stumble with his words. he’s trying. he’s actually proving that he was genuinely sorry for everything.

“i never stopped loving you, y/n” sae admits with a sad smile, “i never did”

you tear up again at his confession. because frankly, you were the same.

sae opens his mouth to say something but instead, you crash your lips against his. sae doesn’t move for a second but relaxes as soon as he realizes what was going on. he instantly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close as he can.

“i love you,”

“i love you too,”

you two find yourselves basking under the moonlight once again. fixing and treating each other’s wounds as you two try again. this time you two are sure that whatever you two have planned for each other, you two will make it right.

006.

the sound of an alarm blaring through the room wakes you up from your sleep. you feel some shuffling behind you and suddenly the room turns quiet again.

“did i wake you?” you hear sae’s morning voice ring through your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. you let out a small whine, nodding your head yes.

sae chuckles, and tightens his hold around your body under the covers. “good morning to you too, baby” he kisses your cheek.

you open one eye before twisting your body around to face him.

“morning..” you yawn, leaving a trail of kisses from his jaw to his adam’s apple.

“still didn’t get enough from last night, hm?” sae teases, rubbing circles on your hips. you feel your cheeks heat up. you slapped his chest before turning your back on him again.

“our managers will kill us if we’re late” you remind him of your schedules for the day. you sit up, slipping on his shirt that was lying on the floor, recalling last night’s events. you looked at yourself from the mirror to see some love bites all over your neck up to your chest. a gentle reminder that you were now his again.

“they can wait,” sae murmurs, slipping his hands under your (his) shirt. you let out a giggle before pushing his hands off of you.

“sae come on!” you tug on his arm as you two head out to your bathroom.

after what seems like an hour or so due to sae’s rowdy hands. you two finally arrive at the red carpet of the luxury brand you two have modeled for.

the screams of fans fills your ears as you wait in of the car and onto the red carpet where a line of reporters were waiting.

sae, being the gentleman he is and a marketing genius, he obviously makes a scene for your entrances. he gets out of the car first and holds out his hand for you to take. the audience goes crazy as you two make your entrance.

“sae, y/n! over here!” you hear a bunch of reporters yell out. lights, and flashes all around.

you and sae stop at the first reporter on the line. he greets you guys with a smile before starting his short interview. it was the usual questions about the brand and you guys feel about being the new faces of it.

“well, clearly they have a good eye for casting both y/n and i as the new faces for their brand” sae answers for the both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your waist.

the interviewer gushes at how cool his answer was and proceeds to ask you another question.

“my, my, my, miss y/n. you look lovely as usual but i can’t help but wonder, what does it feel like to be back together with sae itoshi?” he asks, intrigued, his microphone on your face.

you look at sae for approval and he simply smiles and motions for you to say whatever you want to say.

“well, it still shocks me til this day that i got back together with sae” you joked, making the interviewer laugh at your response and sae who fakes being offended. you laugh at his reaction before answering seriously,

“but seriously. i guess it’s true that if it’s meant to be, it will be” you smile, showing off sae in front of the camera to which the interviewer loves.

“what an answer from, y/n! well you heard it here first folks!” the interviewer beams in front of the camera, “i wish you two never ending happiness. thank you for letting me interview you guys!” he waves off, finding another celebrity to interview.

you and sae both smile and wave him goodbye as you two continue along the red carpet.

“do you really mean that?” you hear sae ask beside you. he was busy waving for the cameras. you let out a little giggle before waving around for the paparazzi and cameras around.

“mean what?”

“what you said about if it’s meant to be, it will be” he quotes you, tucking a stray hair behind your ear sending the audience and the paparazzi in a frenzy again.

“it happened to us, didn’t it?” you smile, motioning to your current situation.

sae was yours again, and you are his.

just how it should be.

bonus!

you didn't consider how awkward it actually was to be working on another modeling gig with your boyfriend.

especially when the poses instructed by the photographer and way too intimate to be imitated in a semi-public setting for your liking.

“what are you being stiff for?” sae holds in his laugh, seeing how motionless your poses are with him. “it’s awkward when theres people around..” you say through gritted teeth, praying to the gods that this shoot will finally be over

“it’s not this awkward when we do this alone though..” sae seductively whispers, lowering his head just right at the shell of your ear.

the photographer squeals in joy at the amount of shots he got from that pose alone.

you feel your face burn up in embarrassment.

“sae!”

#blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #sae imagines #sae x reader #sae itoshi imagines #sae itoshi x reader #saeved

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dragonrider9905 · 1 month

Text

Infectious Love

Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.

Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.

Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3

The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.

“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.

Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him.

But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart.

You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing.

Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same.

That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands.

You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could.

Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for?

Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you.

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart?

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.”

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering.

Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage.

Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.)

“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you.

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them.

“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”

“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok.

Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could.

“So.” He prompted you.

You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”

He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”

“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”

He huffed a little.

“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.”

At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved.

An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out.

Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better.

Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh.

You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit.

He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that.

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.

He knew he messed up.

Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door.

“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”

The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you.

Kriff. He had to fix this.

He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship.

Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.

Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before.

Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken.

He was lost.

Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it.

A lost love.

And it was his fault.

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible.

During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on.

But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep.

You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty.

He saw it. And he caused it.

And he hated himself for it.

He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t.

Turns out he was wrong.

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that.

He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt.

But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold.

Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality.

In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else.

The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be.

After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her.

It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice.

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?

He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed.

It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…

Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand.

It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack.

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”

He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy.

Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated.

You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands.

A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face.

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for.

It was ‘that’ look.

You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time.

There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.

If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone.

You squeezed his hand.

“We’ll find her. I promise.”

There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long.

He squeezed your hands.

“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore.

You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself.

A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering.

“We need to talk.”

You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free.

Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him.

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again.

“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before.

“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead.

Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.

There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him.

Taking a look around, you carefully considered.

“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.”

With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker.

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back.

Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.

“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?”

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.”

You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.

“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.”

“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”

“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”

Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”

Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?”

Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you.

“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”

“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go.

“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”

You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”

“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”

Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two.

It was time to bring Hunter home.

Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun.

Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had.

He was prepared for anything.

“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed.

Your voice.

Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.

Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”

Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training.

“Meshla, no!”

Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror.

What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you.

His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you.

He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter.

Your painful cry.

Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.

Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.

No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.

You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.

And your blade found a home in his heart.

Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge.

“Hunter? Hunter!”

Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”

“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.”

Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.

“Mesh’la…”

“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.

You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.

“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”

“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“

You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body.

Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.

“You’re bleeding!”

Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.

Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.

“You’re losing so much blood.”

“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled.

With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly.

“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?”

You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep.

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run.

The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.”

Hunter came in running.

“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”

Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him.

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls.

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”

Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open.

“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up.

“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you.

“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.

All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space.

All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand.

You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat.

You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up.

You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating.

With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.

You were standing.

But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat.

Oh well, you could only push forward.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help.

The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding.

Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!

Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago?

“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry.

Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing.

Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face.

You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak.

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”

A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened.

The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing?

You had an infection.

Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly?

This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you.

You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?

Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.

“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you.

“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water.

Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle.

Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.

“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”

“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”

“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”

Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter.

He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes.

“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”

Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least.

Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.

The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt.

He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late.

“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”

Silence was your response.

“Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”

The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope.

“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”

Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him.

Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk.

“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”

“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand.

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her.

“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”

“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed.

“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”

Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area.

You blinked your eyes open with a smile.

“Hey Handsome.”

You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss.

“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?”

His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him.

He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled.

“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.”

To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help.

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words.

You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.”

Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon.

“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”

It was Nala, your old classmate.

“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you.

An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?

He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level.

“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”

Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets.

“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”

With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern.

Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way.

You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm.

This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out.

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most.

This one, he couldn’t do.

“This…is going to hurt.”

“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”

Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could.

Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you.

“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow.

Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes.

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself.

“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips.

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air.

Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain.

“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”

You swallowed hard.

“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”

You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.

Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.

You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there.

Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.

You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.

“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you.”

You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again.

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.

“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”

“Hunter! No! You—”

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”

Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss

You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.

“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier.

“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”

When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace.

“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”

Hunter's face darkened.

“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”

“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”

Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler.

“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”

“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest.

“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”

Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.

“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”

"The Empire be warned, we're coming."

Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex

#I gave Hunter's scarf a fate #We now know what happened to it #It deserved a story #Hunter's scarf is important and we recognize that here #sergeant hunter x you #hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb echo #star wars the bad batch #clone fic gift exchange #TBBE24

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sandinthemachine · 1 year

Text

Mortal Remains

König x f!reader

written for the request: "You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn't have to go to such extremes." With Either ghost or König? There's not enough fluff for my men.

I don't even know where to begin with this one. It's massive, the longest one I've ever written. I love it, and I hate it. It made me cry. I'm excited and terrified to see what everyone else thinks. I hope someone reading this feels at least one of those emotions while doing so (preferably not hate)

before I begin, thank you to @sprout-fics and @zwienzixes for being lovely beta readers, and a MASSIVE thank you to @itsagrimm for beta-reading, helping me work through ideas, giving me proper German translations, and all around being an amazing and supportive person. I would have given up on this without all the help.

Translations for the German will be at the bottom

Words: 12,450 (yeah...it's big just like him)

Warnings/tags: König is soft and pretends not to be, reader is afab but no pronouns used, canon-typical violence, piv sex, oral f!receiving, self-deprecation, lots of raw emotions, mental health is hard, fluffy ending

---

It started easy enough, as so many things do.

A week-long joint training exercise. Mixed teams, both 141 and KorTac. Something something bonding before the real mission. You hadn’t been listening.

You remember being excited to be teamed with Soap. At least you could get along with someone, you mused. You barely noticed the hooded figure, tall and sticking to the corners, merging with the lengthening shadows. What’s another ghost haunting your footsteps? Nothing special, that’s for sure.

The first four days fly by. Early morning patrols, always in pairs, tracking for signs of the other team. Finding nothing, you move to a different shelter, secure the area, sleep. Rinse, repeat.

The fifth day is different. There are ragged clouds cloaking the sun while the rest of the sky is completely clear. You’re not sure why you noticed that, but you did.

It was an early morning patrol, as usual, you and your partner sweeping around a centerpoint like you were analyzing a single massive clock. Northeast quadrant clear. Southeast clear. Southwest…a scuff in the dirt. You lean down, fingers tracing the air just above it, a black fleck catching your eye. You grasp it, finding it much larger than you originally expected and partially buried. You pull at the rubbery texture, curious. Distracted.

The ambush comes quietly. Perfectly so. The weight lands on your back with an abruptness that flattens your lungs, dropping you directly onto your hands. You might have twisted your wrist, but the pain of that is overshadowed by the thought of the immense beratement you’ll get from your NCO for failing so fast.

Yet the weight from your back is lifted as quietly as it arrived. You turn, rolling to your feet to find that it had been Gaz on top of you only a second ago. Now he dangles like a ragdoll in the air. The shadow holding him draws a knife, taps it against his throat. You're out.

Gaz sighs as he’s set on the ground, giving you a nod before marching off. You don’t return it, too busy staring at the man next to him.

You’d never noticed his eyes before. You’re used to Ghost’s eyes, dark and unyielding, cavernous black holes reaching into a skull long dead. Like he was born to wear the mask.

This man’s eyes couldn’t be more different. They’re pale, washed out, windows into a sky perpetually on the verge of snowfall, slumbering clouds cold and waiting.

They curve down at the corners, lending an air of melancholy to the only part of his face you can see. You wonder how he really feels behind that gaze.

You’re staring.

You clear your throat awkwardly, aiming to thank him before pausing. “I…I’m sorry, I never caught your callsign?”

The head dips down, draped fabric falling down his chest slightly. A nod. “We need to keep moving.”

And he’s walking past you.

Two days later, the training exercise finally comes to a head in a fierce brawl over the fake weapons cache. Knives and fists only.

The fight takes only a few minutes. Ghost on the opposite team notices your attempted ambush immediately, throwing his men after you. Your team is outnumbered, stuck in a hallway. But it doesn’t matter.

Ghost and the hooded man roll on the ground, tousling like a pair of tomcats, Ghost landing on top for just a second, raising his knife-

You’re there. Arm wrapped around his shoulders. Blade tapping against his throat. You’re out.

With that, the fight is over. Ghost moves with a grumble at the man under him. It might have been a threat. But the man doesn’t hear it. He’s too busy staring at you with grey-sky eyes wide. A child dressed as a dirty sheet-ghost. “I…I don’t know your-”

You thrust your hand out, yanking him to his feet. “We’d better head back.”

You feel him at your back throughout the debriefing. Rolling thunder clouds looming over your head, ready to burst at any second. Your tongue is between your teeth, lungs heaving. Soap whispers a joke in your ear, something about Ghost getting chewed out by the NCO. You can barely muster a smile.

You stay still as the meeting finally ends, waiting for everyone to filter out before you finally turn around.

As you turn, your shoulder knocks into hard muscle and you look up, craning your neck to take in the hooded face and the way his pupils are blown wide into dark pits. A gale you should take shelter from lest you be blown away. But for a moment all you do is stand there, watching your own pupils expand in the turbulent reflection.

Your teeth are carving marks into your tongue by now, and it takes you far too long to draw in a shaky breath and push past him. You have more training tomorrow. It’s sleep your body needs. Not…whatever this is.

He doesn’t say a word as you depart, but his eyes track your every move before the door shuts behind you.

Of course this is a night where you can’t sleep. Of course. You flip and roll, hearing your bed frame smack against the wall every time you shift until you get so annoyed you shove it further into your room and flop down on it again. It doesn’t do anything, of course. Just makes your insomnia a little quieter.

It’s nearly midnight by the time you throw your legs over the side in frustration, shivering at the frigid air before throwing on enough clothes to look decent and marching down towards the shared kitchen.

He’s there. Your luck is just perfect tonight. You take a step backwards, planning to flee back to the darkness of the hallway, but he’s already turning his head, shoulders jumping just slightly as you enter his view.

You crumple a little as he notices you, but it’s too late to do anything about it now. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” Your voice is rough as you walk over to the counter next to him, yanking an expired box of cereal from the back of it. Your arm brushes his as you pull it out.

You spare him a glance as you pry the old box open, snorting at his narrowed eyelids. You bet he’s scrunching his nose through that silly hood, too. You reach in, hearing a series of crunches as you rifle around. “Ah, there it is.” You pull out the clear bottle, shaking it triumphantly in his face. “This’ll knock you right out. 50/50 chance you get back up tomorrow.” You trail off, eyes traveling up and down him. “Well, maybe a bit better odds for you.” You chuckle half-heartedly, but it dies a second later.

You puff your lips out in a shaky breath, running your tongue along your teeth before giving him an awkward smile and raising the bottle to him. With that you leave.

As soon as you take a sip you spit it right back out with a blech. You’d forgotten how nasty the stuff is. You toss it into the trash can and flop back down with an irritated groan. How hard is it to fall asleep? It’s literally laying there doing no-

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door, and upon swinging it open you find him, his looming shadow nearly blotting out the light from the hallway behind. It’s easy to forget how big he is when he’s not around. How strong he is. How…deadly.

But right now he’s leaning against your doorframe, hands tapping along his legs. “Have enough for two?”

You smirk a little at that, but as you step closer you feel the heat radiating from him, your shoulder blades clenching together as your mind begins to process something.

You’d sleep better for it. Perform better the next day. It would be good for you.

Your smirk deepens. “I have a better idea.”

As your hand tangles in his shirt you feel a tremble along his skin, but he doesn’t respond when you pull on him. “You’ve been drinking.”

“I haven’t had a drop. Shit’s disgusting.”

“Show me the bottle.”

Despite yourself, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you fish the full monstrosity out of the bin to show him. He nods but still doesn’t move, and you find yourself rushing to assure him as heat rushes up your neck. “If you actually just want to drink, we can. We don’t have to do anything-”

“No. That’s not it.” Finally he steps fully into the room, letting the door swing shut behind him before he stalks to you. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you hiss, moving to hold onto him again, your mind swirling with exhaustion and old memories that you just need out, right now, and he’s right there and he needs it too, you just know it as he swoops down to grab you and toss you on the bed, both of you a mess to rip your clothes off now that the facade has finally fallen.

After the fog clears you find yourself panting on your stomach with him above you, caging you in with his forearms. Each of his stuttering inhales brings his burning chest and stomach against your back. Before the heat can become unbearable he pulls away, breaths still heaving as he tucks himself back into his pants.

Your eyes widen in surprise when he makes his way to your bathroom and comes back, washcloth in hand, to softly clean you up. As he finishes he pauses, thumb brushing the edge of an old knife scar running up your hip. “My callsign,” he murmurs, fingers tracing its length. “It’s König.”

And with that, he leaves.

You were content for that to be the end of it. You’d each gotten what you needed, after all. And as you stretch languidly across your mattress the following morning, an unfamiliar relaxation settles along your tense muscles. Yes, you would be more than happy to leave it at this.

But as the next training drill ends you find yourself faced with your cold barrack and the prospect of another sleepless night. Before you even realize what you’re doing your legs are moving, ready to go to the kitchen and-

He’s right there, startling as you nearly open your door into his face. He takes a step back, but you’re already holding your hand out and his eyes are burning into you as he takes it and lets you pull him in, lets you shut the door behind you before he’s lifting you with laughable ease and carrying you to bed.

You’re already burrowing your face into your pillow by the time he comes back to clean you up. This time his palm runs over a puckered mass on your thigh, a nasty burn scar from failing to dive for cover fast enough. It still hurts sometimes, but the pain is good. Reminds you not to be so careless again.

As you drift off completely to the feel of his warm hand taking in the old wound, you fail to notice the way his head has turned up, eyes running over your face. He contemplates brushing a finger over your hairline, tucking the wild flyaways behind your ear. But no. That would be too…friendly. That’s not what this is.

So instead he spreads your blankets over your now sleeping form, and with one last lingering gaze, leaves you to sleep peacefully.

You’re not surprised when you wake up to the empty room. It was what you wanted, after all. You had gotten another restful night out of it, and he got what he wanted. It was a fair trade. A great trade, even.

And as the training drills continue and you feel how naturally your body flows, how efficiently it executes your will when you’re actually well-rested, you find yourself seeking his company out more and more. Soon the pair of you have built your own kind of routine, him coming to you the evening after each debriefing when the leftover sparks of adrenaline are refusing to die out in you both.

He always lays you down on your stomach, opening you up with his fingers as he patiently works you through your first orgasm before letting himself take you. He’s always slow at first, but he finds you restless and impatient, urging him to go faster and harder, to knock you out for the night, to knock everything out of your mind that you never want to think about again.

You try to look back once only for your face to meet his hand. With gentle but firm fingers, he turns your head away.

Afterwards he’s even more delicate, wordlessly cleaning you up with a touch light enough to leave a butterfly unharmed. Although he rarely meets your eyes, his gaze and fingers take in your body, each time finding a new scar for his fingers to brush over like a chaste kiss.

You’re asleep by the time he leaves, and you like it that way. The two of you can crash against each other like blizzards raging and howling until you finally break into clear skies. And afterwards, you’re soldiers again. Well-rested, sure. But soldiers all the same. No hard feelings, either. You know he understands.

Soon you two find yourselves assigned to the same training team more and more. It’s natural, an unspoken communication flowing between you, and your superiors see it in the skyrocketing success rates. They pointedly ignore the way your stares burn holes into each other, keeping their eyes fixed on powerpoints and mission statistics. Not their business, they tell themselves. What matters is that you two do your jobs.

And then finally it’s time for the mission, a deployment in the middle of a remote and mountainous forest with terrible radio signal.

Like your first training, it starts easy enough. You’re divided into two teams on two separate mountains, and it’s just your luck that they put you on the team with no one you’re close to. Not even König. Maybe the higher-ups were finally sick of you two.

But you’re an adult. You handle it. You swallow the unease that comes with the teams not being able to contact each other. It’s simply too risky, and the signals are shoddy at best anyway. Base will come in for extraction if the other team succeeds.

With practiced ease you push yourself through two weeks of empty trails and summer-camp camaraderie as the talkative ones share jokes around the empty fireplace and the quiet ones listen from the shadows and chuckle their approval.

Week 3, everything goes to shit.

You should’ve known. You really should’ve known. The weather out here can change in an instant, clouds materializing from a clear sky’s empty expanse like an angry god throwing his rage down from above. You should’ve known the people here would be the same.

Before any of you knew the safehouse was surrounded, they were already through the doors.

You remember waking up to the creak of the old door with a groan, not ready to start your watch yet. The man on watch had been short and wiry, and you marveled at how shadows warp themselves against the light, twisting and turning to make one man look like another, tall and burly and carrying a-

CRASH!

The windows burst inwards in a crescendo of sparks and you’re scrambling backwards, reaching for your

BANG!

Dust from the roof is falling on your head, in your eyes and you’re blinking at the haze, the sting, your hands feeling the solid weight of your weapon and yanking it against you, and you’re stumbling backwards towards the

BANG!

and you’re stumbling forwards towards the

BANG!

And you’re on your knees crawling crawling

BANG! BANG BANG BANG!

crawling away from everything and your eardrums are hot iron seething in your skull and your eyes are being scratched by cats and there’s something warm on your face now and there’s something heavy thunking to the floor just next to you and everything is all dark, all the shadows are choking you and-

-grey. Not black. Not the black of the inside. Grey. A doorway. A hole in the wall. You’re on your knees, your hands are on the wall, you’re pushing yourself up, you’re running, and there are patters behind you and gurgling sounds and the volleys of automatic weaponry but your vision is finally starting to clear, you can see the treeline and all you need is to get there.

A roar surges behind you, and you spin into the sun. Heat slams into your body and you’re flung, a leaf in the wind, hard onto your back as yellows and reds surge in front of you or maybe it was behind you and now you’re a deer, eyeballs bulging out of your head and rolling in your skull as you run from a forest fire, angry and starving, only this fire has legs and they’re longer than yours and it’s following you, you just know it, you can’t hear it but you know.

You’re not a human anymore, you’re barely even an animal, you’re not thinking, you’re a scramble of limbs and an impulse. Run.

You try. You try so hard but there’s nothing carrying you, your legs don’t feel connected to each other anymore and they’re not even your legs you look down and they’re still there but you can’t…feel them?

Tilting. Tilting. Tilting.

Light. Burning light.

Fade to black.

No, wait. Not you. You’re still here. Your legs are wavy and jelly but still there.

You fling an arm out and feel something solid. Cold. Rough. Bark.

You made it to the trees.

There’s no time to celebrate. Behind you lights are still flaring, and with each passing second more bodies are falling to the ground, leaking out into the snow. You have to move.

The second safehouse is to the north. It’s your only way out, you know that. The rest of your team would be there.

Should be there.

Better be there.

Don’t think about it, don’t think. Just move.

The battle is fading behind you now and your blood is beginning to cool, settling heavy in your veins like the thick jam your mother used to make on warm summer mornings just as the sun’s rays flowed through your windows.

It would be nice to be there right now. Warm. Content. Full. Your stomach growls in agreement at the thought. You have some ration bars in your pocket, but you know it hasn’t been long enough to have one. You need to spread them out, make sure they can last.

Your stomach groans again, and you shake your head. To divert your attention, you take stock of the rest of your body.

You’re scraped and bruised, your head vibrating like…oh, what is it like? Like…your phone after you get added to a group chat you wanted nothing to do with. Hehe. You can barely remember the days when your problems were as simple as that.

You're letting yourself get too distracted. Anyways, as you were saying. You’re a bit battered and scraped up, alright. But no broken bones. No visible deadly wounds. And you still have your gun clamped to your chest with shaky arms. That’s all you need, really. Making it to the safehouse will be a breeze.

You’re halfway down the mountain as twilight begins to lighten to dawn, and there’s still no sign of anyone chasing you. It’s a bit warmer down here, and as you flex your fingers and toes you feel the sharp pins and needles radiate through them and force a smile. It’s good, you tell yourself. Means they’re all still there. You might just be in the clear now.

Then the sky darkens again, and it begins to rain.

Within a few minutes you can’t see your hand in front of your face in the downpour and you're forced to hide out. You find a fallen evergreen and burrow through its thick boughs, needles pricking your face and poking in your mouth with a sharp scent that settles behind your eyeballs as you force your way through, certain it will block out the worst of the rain. It doesn’t.

It’s past noon by the time the deluge finally lets up, and as you step out, cursing your shelter for all its faults, the slick earth shifts abruptly under you. With a cry, you are yanked off of your feet into a roll down the slope. You fling out your arms, grasping for anything solid, but the world is a mass of dirt and grey-brown snow-slush and you can’t stop yourself until your hip jams into a tree-stump. Hard.

You hiss, twisting your face upwards off the ground. Bad idea. The mud-slush runs down into your nose and you splutter, spasming and hacking up half the mountain. You move to wipe your eyes on your arm but only rub more dirt in them, gritting your teeth and hissing through them at the sting.

You push yourself onto your hands and knees with a whimper, gingerly feeling around your hip. Not broken. Just another bruise. What’s one more bruise? It’ll be fine.

You’ll be fine.

Your ankle is twisted. You’ve wrapped it as best as you can, but every time you put weight on it, you imagine a great big serpent with needles for scales is slithering under your skin, wrapping itself tight around the bones and squeezing.

Even worse, it's getting dark again. Fucking FUCK.

You should get yourself a thesaurus for Christmas. Fuck really doesn’t have much weight to it when you say it every other sentence.

Whatever. You’re fucking screwed.

Your clothes are soaked, you’re painted in dirt and runny snow and as soon as it gets dark temperatures are going to drop fast enough to freeze you right in place like a stupid fucking statue. Fuck this, fuck this so hard what do I do what do I do.

You bury your face into your hands, heels pressing hard into your eyes. It doesn’t matter that your hands have mud mittens anymore because your face is solid mud and you’ve had dark spots in your eyesight for hours and maybe if you rub them really hard this will all be a shitty dream your shitty brain made up and then you can wake up in your shitty cot with your blanket that’s too thin and it will be so fucking lumpy and uncomfortable and perfect. It would be perfect. Maybe König would be there.

What?

You’re breaking down and going to die in a few hours and you’re thinking of him? Some dude you fuck? What the hell is wrong with you?

He was really warm, though. And he was always so gentle afterwards. For hands that kill with such brutal precision, his fingers felt too delicate to be his when they ran along your body, mapping every scar and dimple like he was trying to memorize you. Like he was terrified that tomorrow he might wake up blind and never be able to see you again, so he needed to be able to recognize you by touch alone.

You didn’t even know what his face looked like, but you could get lost in those eyes, you think. You've learned that the skin above them stretches when he’s surprised, and the skin under them scrunches up when he laughs, so you think it must scrunch like that when he smiles, too. You’ve even seen the way his lids drift down to hide the way his eyes roll back when he’s bored.

What do they look like when he’s excited? When he’s angry? Sad?

You wonder what it would be like to look him in the eyes while you both fell apart. Would he look away and screw them shut? Would they water a little, as yours so often did?

Would he stay the night if you asked? Would he hold you? Would he…

No. This isn’t happening. No way in hell. You are not dying thinking of a random man you’ve barely spoken two words to. It’s ridiculous. It’s pathetic. You’re better than this.

You will not go out like this.

You yank yourself to a tree whose limbs burst forth in sprays of dark needles, your shoulders screaming at you as you pull yourself up on the branches, feeling like a toddler learning to walk for the first time. It’s pitiful. You swing your good leg up, grinding your teeth so hard your jaw pops as you pull yourself up to a thick fork and begin pulling down limbs above you, cutting through the ones around you, tying and weaving and undoing and redoing.

It is dark by the time you’ve finished, a thick nest of evergreen boughs settled under you and woven walls crushing you in. You have to curl into a tight ball to fit into it, but you can no longer feel the breezes from outside. You’ve stripped your clothes off and spread them along the walls as best you can, hoping they can dry just a little.

You thank the mud for clogging your nose. You don’t even want to imagine what you and your clothes must smell like by now.

Maybe by the time you meet up with the others you’ll smell so bad you’ll make one of the rookies vomit. Ghost did that last mission, and you and Soap nearly burst a lung as the poor guy emptied his guts over and over again.

You chuckle at that and try your best to fall asleep.

By the time you make it down the mountain the next day, your knees are knocking against each other with every step and your weapon is plastered with muddy slush that has frozen and melted and frozen all over again. The valley is even worse than the slope, with runoff from the rain congregating in a swampy mess that has you sinking up to your calves in some places. Lifting a leg in this feels like pulling yourself out of concrete, so you get really good at sliding each foot forward without raising it upwards at all.

You think the pressure from the mud is helping with the pain. You barely feel it when you move now.

Your jaw is clenched so hard you chip one of your molars.

You’re halfway through the valley when one of them finds you.

It’s funny how it happens. How you both stand in the mud staring at each other. How you both instinctively know who the other is through the curtain of earth camouflaging you both, yet each stand stock-still as statues anyway.

A second passes.

Two.

Three.

In an instant your guns are to your shoulders, fingers rushing to crush the-

Nothing happens. You squeeze. Squeeze again. The man shakes his gun and yells in frustration, the mud and ice having rendered your weapons unfireable.

But not unusable. The man’s head whips back to you with a growl and he lunges forward, his foot sinking into a deep patch and jerking him down face first. He throws himself up again, splatting forward another pace.

You slide backward, forcing yourself to slow down, to keep your feet under you as you move gut-wrenchingly slowly, searching for solid ground. He’s flailing and flinging himself towards you but the mud is slowing him down, and there’s a rocky patch right behind you. You’re going to make it.

He reaches you before you reach the edge, raising his gun and throwing his body behind a downwards blow. Yours is already coming up to deflect, but the blow sends you backwards, landing on your back with a splash. He’s on top of you, a hand shoving your face down as mud flows around it.

You thrash and wiggle, a scream cut off as your mouth fills with liquid dirt. Your hand is whirling all around and it catches something and you yank.

He howls as you pull his ear, sending him off-balance just enough to raise your head for a choking gasp before your palm is on his face, shoving him sideways. He rolls away from you, struggling to his feet as you’re on your hands and knees and your gun is in the mud but so is his. He tries to reach for it but he’s stuck, and in that precious heartbeat of time your legs are back under you, feet planted deep and wide.

He whirls towards you as you stand, throwing a punch at your torso that you know you can’t dodge, you can’t even move, so you throw your fist sideways, twisting, forcing all your strength into shoving from your rear leg so that when you catch his knuckles on your forearm they are savagely wrenched sideways with your momentum. His pinkie pops outwards with a crunch, and he falls back with a choked sob.

You grab your gun off the ground, throwing your whole body into a swing at his head, shattering through his palm as he tries to block it. You both fall sideways with the momentum but you find your feet faster, gripping the weapon through the slime coating it as you bring the stock straight down into his skull.

Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Your grip slides, dirt scraping more of your skin off with each blow, but he’s not moving. You stumble backwards drunkenly, falling onto your forearms again and army-crawling, gun held tightly in each hand, all the way to the edge. You flop on your back then, one eye on the body, and heave great breaths, coughing again and again until your body has enough and you curl inwards, choking out mud and throwing up even more. You try to even your breathing, try to filter the adrenaline out of your system so you don’t crash. In, out. In, out. In out in out inoutinoutinoutinoutin-FUCCCCCKK. You shake your head violently, over and over.

You take one last look at the body, only seeing it because you know where to look. A mud-covered shoulder pokes out of the ground, the rest already lost.

You can’t balance on your feet anymore, so you crawl away.

You don’t even bother to make a shelter that night. You crawl under a rotting log, ripping your last ration bar from your pocket and devouring it, licking the crumbs from your stained and tainted fingers. You curl up and fall asleep just like that, bones chattering and muscles spasming.

Helicopter blades wake you up in the morning. You’re on your feet, falling and jumping and running and falling, flailing your arms because you know those blades, that’s your team and they’re here for you and you’re finally free, you did it you did it you’re so proud of yourself you can’t wait to have a warm bath and then maybe even afterwards you can see-

The helicopter passes over you and disappears around the mountain.

You stare at it, deathly still. It’s just sweeping the area, making sure it’s safe to land.

But the wingbeats have already faded into the distance, replaced by a vast and engulfing silence. Time stretches out before you, and you’re still staring at the mountain.

Your stomach breaks the silence with a gurgle.

You flop down, shoving your face into the ground, and scream.

You press the button on your radio, cracking the caked mud. It clicks, and you hear nothing. Not even static. You click it again. And again, this time just to hear the sound. Rapidly you click it again and again and again.

You start laughing, your abs clenching and strangling your organs as you guffaw, thrashing around like a headless chicken, and thinking about yourself as a headless chicken makes you laugh even louder. Everything is just so funny, none of this is real, you’re on the Truman Show, you’re the biggest comedy in the world. It’s even funny that your laughter only comes out in squeaky wheezes. It’s all just a big joke. Haha. You can’t wait to tell someone.

You fall asleep just like that, grinning up at the sky with dirt in your teeth.

You wake up, stare into the sun, and go back to sleep.

You feel lighter.

Is this what it feels like to leave your body?

It’s not as bad as you thought.

You wonder if König will remember you.

The ground beneath you is moving, sliding under you and scraping along you.

There's no ground underneath you at all now, and something is pressing, and you feel your legs dangling and swinging all around you, the world spinning a jig and you the unwilling passenger. You think you might tell it to stop, but it doesn't listen to you.

You're yanked back into consciousness by a thundering vibration setting every bone against itself. You jolt upwards, feeling heavy pressure on your shoulders as your eyes roll back into your head. The world is black. Black and blue and blurred. Through the haze you begin to make out a white visage and two black voids that pierce through you.

This must be hell. You don’t want to be awake for your judgement.

Your consciousness drifts away again, blocking out the rumbling flight of the helicopter, completely oblivious to the warm bodies pressed in around you, speaking rapidly through their headsets.

Any more? Sweep around again.

There's nothing else here.

Ok. Let's bring these ones back, then.

You are still asleep as your body is carried into a hospital room, completely unresponsive as the nurses strip and bathe you with clinical precision. You don’t wake until hours later, seeing only a single nurse checking your vitals and bandages. Each hand and foot has been carefully wrapped, the angry red battlefield of blisters and exposed flesh meticulously covered in pristine, unblemished white. The nurse offers a smile as you fight through the haze, imagining you are underwater and slowly floating to the surface, watching the sun jiggle and warp through the abyss above you. Just bad blisters, the nurse is telling you. Very lucky. Very lucky. You think you might nod back. She’s right, of course. You’re alive, aren’t you?

Ghost comes by as you’re released the next day. They’ve rewrapped your hands in a bandage that gives you a little more flexibility, and he finds you sitting on the edge of the bed, staring into the white fabric.

The mattress shifts as he settles beside you. He doesn’t say a word, but his eyes are trained on you. Black voids in a mask of white.

“You left me,” you finally whisper, eyes still on your hands.

“What?”

You look at him, trying to see something in the face to get mad at, but his eyes are just a little wider than before. Confused, maybe.

“The helicopter…” you begin, voice scratchy, and clear your throat. “The helicopter flew right over me.”

“That wasn’t our helicopter.”

“It was heading back from the safehouse.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Oh,” you huff, sinking into yourself. “I…”

You stop as he clears his throat, shoulders expanding in a loud breath. “It’s alright. You were knocked out pretty good by the time our boys found you. Happens to the best of us.”

You nod, swallowing again, and wish someone else was here to comfort you, literally anyone but Ghost. “Is…uh…is…umm…is Soap ok?”

Ghost grunts. “Johnny took one to the arm, but he’ll pull through. I was just going to visit him now.”

You push yourself to your feet, proud that you only sway a bit. “Can I-”

“No,” Ghost cuts you off. “You’ll have time to visit him later. For now you need to go and rest. That’s an order,” he cuts you off as you open your mouth to protest. Your jaw shuts. Call it obedience, call it cowardice, but you find you just don’t have it in you to argue the point. You promise yourself you’ll see Soap in the morning. Well, later in the morning, seeing as it’s somehow 0100 hours already.

When Ghost leaves you slump, any need for straight posture gone with the departure of your superior officer. Trying to keep your breathing even, you will your legs to carry your body down the medical corridor. Just a little longer, you promise them, then you’ll get the break you deserve. But your body has had enough of your unfulfilled promises, and you find yourself forced to sink onto one of the shitty metal chairs littering the hallway. Just a little rest, and then I’ll go back to my quarters.

You wake to the familiar sounds of agony. Before your body has the chance to disagree, instinct has you on your feet again, hands grabbing at the thin air where your sidearm should be. My holster, my holster, where the hell is-

Your eyes land on the white-washed walls. Too clean. Too smooth. And your hands aren’t moving like they should, strangled by white fabric. It finally sinks in that you’re far from the battlefield, far from any fight.

The sounds continue, drawing your eye to one of the many nondescript doors lining the corridor. Someone having a nightmare, probably. Or reacting badly to a procedure, maybe. Either way, a problem best left for the nurses with their iron wills and their tranquilizers. You have enough bruises already. Best not add a black eye to the list.

A pitiful whimper sounds through the door, one that has your heart twisting like a towel being wrung out, sending all the blood to your throat and stomach.

Fuck it. What’s one more bruise?

Your fingers curl the handle down, and you shrink in on yourself as the door swings open on its own with a creak. You catch it and hastily shut it behind you, trying not to make any more noise.

The room is small enough that even the military-issue cot feels too big for it. The room is made even smaller by the man lying in the cot, arms dangling off the sides as he thrashes, his feet hanging off the end. You can see the crumpled blanket on the floor and automatically avert your eyes. The hood is still on, but below it he’s wearing an undershirt and boxers, and you realize this is the most of him you’ve ever seen.

You press yourself to the wall as he spasms again, a leg kicking out and narrowly missing you, causing you to notice the thick white bandage wrapped around his thigh, and the dark line slowly being painted along it.

Hesitantly you flick the lights on, wincing at the burn that rushes through your eyeballs, but he doesn’t even react to it. You have no idea how to wake him up without breaking a bone, so you press your back to the wall, slowly skirting along the edge of the room and staying as far out of his reach as you can, praying to whatever old ghosts are listening that he doesn’t wake up and go straight into murder mode. Or, you know, default alert soldier setting. This is a stupid idea.

As you approach his head you lean over as far as you can, stretching one arm out until the socket pops in protest. You poke his shoulder and leap back.

Nothing.

You take a step closer and lean in again.

You’re immediately interrupted by the door swinging open with a much-louder creak. You and the nurse both pause and stare at each other for a moment, startled, and you sheepishly move to straighten and pull your arm back.

With viper-like speed an arm shoots out to grab your wrist, capturing it in a deadly grip and you yelp, whirling back to the man in the bed and raising your opposite arm.

You freeze when you see his eyes, so wide they’re more white than color. He’s stock-still, fixated on you like a mouse caught in a cat’s gaze. Paralyzed by fear, praying. Shaking.

His hand is…shaking. “Hey, hey,” you coax, hesitantly pulling your arm back in so you can place it over his fingers. “It’s just me, big guy. You’re safe.”

His chest heaves outwards, and you feel his hand relax a little before his head snaps towards the nurse as she takes a step closer, cradling something small and cylindrical in her hands. “It’s alright,” she speaks directly to you. “I can take it from here.”

König releases the breath he’s held, shoving himself backwards on the bed with a shake of his head, prompting the nurse to click her tongue at him before raising the needle. You realize it’s a lot bigger than you first thought. “You’ll be fine,” she’s assuring him. “It will hurt a lot less once it’s done.”

König’s head turns very slowly, back up to you, and for a second you’re confused at his gaze, wondering why he thinks you have enough knowledge to give him any medical advice. Then you notice the way his eyes seem just a little too shiny in the light, the way his other hand is clenching and unclenching around the bedsheet.

You’ve always known him as the perfect soldier, quick and to the point, pin-prick precise, a dancing whirlwind of death. More monster than man. You know him as the one who laughs with every good kill, mocking the reaper of death with a smile. Look at how slow you are. I got here first. He’s the one who dances on the precipice of fate and spits over the edge.

Even sprawled out like this, sweaty and trembling, you are well aware of every flex of his muscles, of the strength he holds back in his grip. Yet as you look into the eyes of the storm you find that for the first time you see no hint of the giddy killing machine looking back at you. The eyes staring back at you from this big soldier’s body are those of a fragile little kid. And he’s terrified.

You gulp, your tongue catching on the back of your throat. “Yeah…yeah, it’ll be ok. I’ll be right here.”

Finally he relaxes, slumping back into the bed, and the nurse takes the opportunity to give him the shot. You feel his flinch in a wave of pressure radiating up your wrist and forearm, but his gaze doesn’t move. He keeps looking into your eyes until his own begin to droop and he sinks even further into the mattress.

Before his hand drops from your wrist you catch it, the skin under your bandages protesting at the sudden flexion. You choose to ignore it, settling down on the floor next to his bed as your own eyes begin to follow his. Even as your head falls into your knees and your body finally gives itself completely over to darkness, you refuse to let go.

You’re woken by something warm trailing along your hairline. You jerk, smacking the back of your head into the wall with an irritated grunt. König’s arm hovers in the air just in front of your face, and you turn to see him pressed to the edge of the bed, looking a little guilty. “Sorry,” he murmurs.

You should be, startling me like that, you want to say. But when you open your mouth, what comes out instead is “No, it’s ok, I just…I wasn’t expecting it.”

König gulps audibly, and the cot creaks as he pulls his hand back, shifting his body even closer. “You stayed.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Never,” he hisses, and you find yourself staring into his eyes again, only this time they’ve taken on their old torrential intensity.

Now it’s yours that are as wide as a child’s. You gulp, feeling the muscles of your jaw flex and unflex. “Ok,” you finally murmur. “I’ll stay.”

And you do. For two more nights König stays in the infirmary, weathering the steady rounds of nurses and bandage changes with a steely resolve even as his fists flex and twist into the sheets. You stay with him all the while, but he doesn’t reach for your hand again, not after noticing your own bandages.

The second night you sleep in the cot next to him at his insistence. You’re hurt too, he reasons. You need a real bed to rest in. He scoots himself to the back edge to give you room, and when you wake up he hasn’t moved.

After the third night you wake to his hand resting on your arm. It’s a small gesture. Innocent even. Yet still you find yourself contemplating it, barely saying a word as the nurses come to remove his bandages. You grind your jaw as you take in the puckered line of stitches running from his knee up to the edge of his boxers, looking away politely as the nurses help him into a pair of sweatpants.

You don’t even say anything when you let him lean on your shoulders, using your own aching body as a sacrificial lamb to transport him back to his barrack. Once you get him into bed you hover in the doorway, taking in the shadows of the walls, twisting your wrists back and forth, a habit you picked up to alleviate the pain from flexing your fingers. They’re in even thinner bandages now, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

Maybe there’s nothing to say. You found him in a vulnerable situation where he needed a lifeline. It could have been anyone, he was barely lucid. Now he surely wanted to forget all of that vulnerability and go back to a time where he hadn’t needed help from anyone. Not even you. Especially not you. He was a soldier, after all. Fondness wasn’t in the job description.

Best not to say anything then. Just…leave and get this over with. Just like that. Yeah…easy. Really easy.

Your move to shut the door behind you is halted by him calling your name. Your real name. You didn’t even know he knew your name.

He calls it again, quieter this time, and you lean back in the door, eyes drifting across his room to him. He’s still sitting on the bed where you left him, only now he’s hunched over to rest a forearm on his good thigh. “Come back here,” he breathes, voice cracking, and it hits you right in your stomach, settling there like a wounded bird, flapping and screeching at you to stay away, you’re already in too deep, you don’t know how this will end.

But it’s too late. You’re walking forward, the door swinging shut behind you. Locked. You’re already reaching out for the hand he offers, only for him to reach past the bandages and grab your wrist. You pause at that, staring into the hazy depths of his eyes, pupils bursting for you again. Slowly, inch by excruciating inch, he straightens again, face coming closer to yours as another hand snakes around your neck to help guide you down to straddle his good thigh, moving your forearms to rest on each of his shoulders.

The bird in your stomach has moved to your chest, and you’re positive he can feel your heavy breathing even through his mask with how close you are. His eyes look down to your lips, and you wonder if he is going to lift his hood up and kiss you, your cheeks flushing in anticipation as he leans forward.

Only instead he rests his forehead against yours, eyes drifting closed. You feel your arms drift upwards with his inhale. “Stay with me,” he exhales. “One more night.”

You nod against his forehead, wrapping your arms around his neck and finally letting your own eyes close. Your breathing is slowed down now, and you find yourself enjoying the warmth you feel radiating from everywhere you touch him. One of his hands has spread against your thigh, while the other still rests along your neck, thumb tracing up and down your jaw. You know you could fall asleep just like this.

König, however, has other ideas. As you slump even further to him, both of his hands drift to your hips. You notice the movement, sighing at the pleasant sensation of his hands running over your body. You don’t notice the intention until he takes a deep breath, and in one smooth motion he has stood and twisted to lay you down on the bed, climbing on top of you. You gasp, feeling your heart stutter all over again, blood rushing to your core as you feel the fabric of his hood rub up your neck. His nose, you think.

Fuck, you want him. You want him just like this and any other way he’s willing to give, but you can’t, you shouldn’t, and you know you have to at least try to protest. You bite back a whimper as a hand drags up your inner thigh. “König, your leg.”

“I don’t care,” he growls. “Say my name again.”

You groan in protest and he pulls back, tilting your face up to his. “Is this not what you want?” He feels the way your jaw flexes and pulls away.

“Wait. No. I want this. You. I want you. Just…please be careful.”

He hears the last part, but he’s past giving a damn about his own body now. His hand is already undoing your belt and he’s leaning back to ease your pants and underwear off your legs, lazily tossing them to the side.

A harsh word escapes his throat as he looks down at you, but you don’t catch it through the blood rushing in your ears. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and unthinkingly you do, another growling swear reaching your ears. “So obedient for me.”

You hear the shuffling of fabric and feel a hand wrap around one of your knees, lifting it up for a warm tongue to swirl along the inside of it, for wet lips to place a sloppy kiss just above where his tongue had just been. His lips slide up again, and this time he sucks on the skin just slightly, and you feel your leg tremble as a tiny moan escapes you, but he’s already moving further up and this time sucking harder, and then further and harder and further and harder until he’s against your inner thigh and his teeth are sinking into you and you yelp his name, whining in frustration as he pulls back.

“No,” you pant, “don’t stop. Please.”

You feel a chuckle rumble in his throat and his nose presses into the bottom of your slit. You jolt, squeezing your eyes tighter as it slides up through you before pressing into your sensitive spot, and he inhales.

“Fuck,” you cry, tangling your hands in the sheets only to choke on a sound of pain.

König pulls back immediately and you shake your head at him, a sob on the edge of your quivering lips.

“Easy. Watch your hands.”

You grit your teeth and nod, relaxing your fingers and turning your palms up.

“Good,” he purrs as his hands hook under the backs of your knees, easily throwing your legs over his shoulders. As he settles back down you feel the muscles in his back flexing against your calves and moan before his mouth is even on you.

He hums contentedly at the sound, running his tongue along the length of you before swirling it around your clit. His lips pucker against it and he sucks, pulling away with a soft pop that has you clenching your legs around him. He moves in again, lazily altering between sucking and tracing his tongue just around your bud, feeling the way you flex against him, hearing the way you react to each movement, and committing all of it to memory before shifting his head so he can dip his tongue inside you. He groans at the taste, the vibration of it radiating up under your ribs and down through your legs. You’re quiet now, feeling how close you are settling heavy over you, drowning you in deliciously sweet honey.

He feels the shaking of your legs around him and returns to your clit as he slowly works a finger into you, curling it upwards to stroke at the spongy part inside of you.

You break quietly, choking on his name as the pleasure strangles your muscles and sets them briefly aflame, fresh sensations flowing through you as he continues to touch you just so, only pulling away when you sink into the mattress and your legs slip from his shoulders.

You hear the bed frame creak as he pulls back, running a hand up your thigh before the shifting sound of fabric hits your ears, and you feel the mattress sink down in different places as he shifts.

“Open your eyes.”

You do as he says, your disappointment at seeing the sniper’s hood obscuring his face immediately squashed by the realization that the rest of him is completely naked.

You’re seeing him for the first time.

Fucking hell, what a sight.

Your eyes rest on the delicious curve of his cock first, marveling at the pink tip and the thick veins running along it. You had felt his size on plenty of occasions, but seeing it for the first time is a new beast entirely, one that has you biting your lip and wiggling your hips like a teenager all over again.

But soon your eyes are taken in by the strong curves of muscle outlining his hips, and your eyes are traveling upwards to the delicious bulges of his chest, your own heaving at the sight. You find yourself wanting to trace the outline of each hill and valley of muscle that flows along his shoulders, down his arms, to the hands, wanting to run your tongue along the veins like raised rivers spreading down his forearm and across the back of each hand.

You wonder what his back looks like. You wonder how the muscles of his neck shift as he moves, what the outline of his jaw is shaped like. You are greedy and want to take everything he has, and at the same time you are desperate for anything he can give you. You’re a peasant kneeling at the feet of your king, ready to lick the crumbs he throws you off the floor.

His head tilts playfully, breaking you out of your reverie. “You like what you see?”

Your chuckle catches in your chest, only a tiny puff of air leaving your mouth. “Yes.”

His eyes scrunch a little, and you imagine he is grinning as he leans over, balancing himself above you. He moves back a bit, hand adjusting your hips as he positions himself. He looks back up at you, and you nod eagerly, your hands reaching up to grab his shoulders. He clicks his tongue, glancing at them, and with a groan you put your hands above your head. He moves one of his own to grasp your wrists, keeping them pinned as he sinks onto his forearms.

You feel the head of his cock running up and down your folds, and instinctively bend your back to give him a better angle, earning an approving hum that makes you even wetter. But as he braces himself and begins to drive into you, a strangled sound smashes through his gritted teeth.

Oh no. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer, only pressing his face into your neck, inhaling heavily as you feel his entire body stiffening against you. “It’s…it’s fine,” he hisses, his hand strangling your wrists. “Just …” he heaves another breath. “Ah... Ich… I…need a…moment.”

You sigh, wiggling a hand out of his grip to push his chin up. He lets you move his face back, and even in the dim light you can see the way the skin around his eyes has gone even paler than normal. “Get off,” you murmur.

He slumps, twisting his face out of your grip and keeping his eyes on the wall. He stays like that for a second before giving a swift nod and pulling out, maneuvering backwards on the bed and moving to get off.

“Wait!” you burst out, and he freezes. “That’s not what I meant.”

After another moment he looks at you in bewilderment, so you sit up and shift to the side, patting the bed next to you. Awkwardly, he crawls to it, nearly dragging his bad leg, stiffening again when you place your wrists on his shoulders. “Let me?”

After a second of staring into your eyes, he nods again, allowing you to push on him, laying him on his back before you straddle him and finally take your shirt off. You see his chest rise with a shuddering breath and before you really think about it you’re leaning down to lick a stripe up his sternum. Seeing his pecs jerk upwards on either side of your tongue emboldens you and you shift your head, running your tongue back down to circle over one of his nipples before you suck.

Immediately the muscles flex again and he pushes up into you. “Like that,” he snarls, loud and vibrating through your skull. You’re aching down there again, but you’re not done yet. You release him with a squelch, watching the patch of saliva glisten before moving to give the other nipple the same treatment, your heart leaping at the sounds falling from his mouth as he quivers under you.

“König,” you croon. “Touch me.”

He whimpers as you flick your tongue over the sensitive bud. “Where?”

“Anywhere. Grab my hair, squeeze my tits, just put your hands on me.”

You groan as he obeys, long fingers tangling tightly in your hair as his other hand spreads along your ribcage, thumb sliding over your breast. You sigh, leaning down to bite into his pec, moaning as his grip on you tightens. You kiss the mark left by your teeth before leaning back. His hands move to cup both of your breasts as you raise yourself up and sink down onto his cock. You’re too excited and you go too fast, and a sharp pinch of pain seizes at your entrance. You gasp, instinctively leaning forward to brace yourself on your palms, but his hands move to your waist, catching you before you hurt them any further.

“I have you,” he whispers, voice scratchy, and despite the pain you clench at the sound of what you do to him. He chokes on his next words, a groan coming out instead. “Do you need to get off?”

“No!” You whisper-yell back so quickly that he laughs, and despite everything you laugh with him. He runs his hands up and down your sides, feeling you start to relax a little, but not enough yet. “Tell me what you need,” he murmurs.

“It’s fine.” You close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing. “Just need…a moment.”

“Hypocrite.”

You shoot your eyes open to glare at him, only to see his chest shake with another chuckle at your scrunched-up angry face. “Your leg is sliced open, it’s not the same,” you scoff.

His eyes glimmer with the start of a witty retort before one of his hands freezes over your bottom rib, drawing his lovely gaze away from yours. His thumb is circling around a tiny hairline of a scar, bone-white and soft. You’ve already forgotten how you got it.

“This one,” he murmurs. “It is new.”

“How…how did you notice?”

“It wasn’t there last time.” His tone was quiet and matter-of-fact, like the answer was obvious, and it takes you back to every time his hands ran over you as you drifted into sleep. How long did he stay there after you fell asleep? How long did it take him to commit you to memory so well that a patch of skin even you had forgotten was instantly recognized as something new?

Your body has always been a means to an end, a vehicle carrying you rather than a full part of you. Batter it, toss it around, whatever you need to do to get the job done. And when your body protests, you treat it like any other tool you can beat into submission. Like your first battered old car that revved to life with a well-placed kick.

But now all you can think of is his hands running over you with thorough determination, acknowledging each new mark with a gentle reverence that was more than you deserved. Getting to know you in the only way he knew how.

For the first time in a long time, you’re reminded to see this body as something more than a bruised vessel you’re obligated to carry around. He reminds you to see it as something more.

Fuck, you think you might love him.

“König?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

His head tilts a little, his hand still running along your rib, and your cheeks flush.

Before he can reply, you gulp a little. “I…I think I’m ready.”

He hums again, his hands moving back to rest on your hips. You stay still for another moment, looking into his eyes. You don’t think you can memorize his body, not like he has yours. But you have memorized his eyes, have burned them into your mind so clearly you saw them even as you were trapped on that damned mountain. Thinking about him.

And now you think he might've been thinking about you, too.

You feel him twitch inside of you, pulling you out of your thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you raise yourself up slowly, feeling his hands tighten and take some of your weight, following your lead as you sink into him again, this time with a sigh that echoes his own. Slowly, hesitantly, you raise yourself up and down, feeling how easily he stretches you, how easily he could break you.

But he never has. The only pain you’ve gotten from him was caused by your own impatience. As you keep going, finding an angle that has him dragging across your most sensitive parts and making you even wetter, you become confident that there’s no chance of pain, allowing yourself to speed up.

His hands are steady as ever, guiding you up and down, but beneath you his shoulders and chest begin to squirm and heave. His eyes wander all around, and his breaths are scattered and staccato.

And his sounds. You’d never known a man to be so loud, and now you know you’ve been missing out all these years. Every grunt, every groan, every moan and whimper goes straight through your core, winding you up faster and faster. As you get closer his sounds shift, and you realize he’s started to stutter out words.

His eyes are hazy and unfocused but you can still tell they’re trained on you, and you urge your body to calm down for just a minute longer, just long enough to hear what he’s saying.

You can’t make out any of the words, but his hands are even tighter on you now and the way his voice shifts from growling to whimpering settles into a melodic language that has you crying out for him anyway.

Beneath your trembling body, he keeps going. “Never..told you …du bist wie ein Traum,” another whimper leaves his lips. “Ich kann nicht glauben, dass du wirklich hier bist.” He gasps as you clench tighter around him. “Du bist…du…Du bist viel zu gut für mich…Dein Lächeln und …und…” His eyes are watering and you slow down only for his hands to dig into you, urging you to speed up again. “Ich weiß nicht wie ich dich loslassen soll aber du verdienst so viel mehr als …”

His mind is lapsing again, his determined confession faltering into a fervent prayer sent to the only god he’s ever believed in, to you - moving over him and taking everything he is giving you, making him wish he had more, so much more than the desert-dry heart of a killer whose hands can only ever pull things apart. His thumb is over the scar on your rib again and his blurry vision is taking in the white of the bandage wrapped around your hands and it has him wishing his own hands could build something instead of destroy it just so he could put you back together again. You’re coming apart around him, crying his name, and he’s thinking of flinging his body in front of you, taking every bullet and blade meant for you, because his body is all he has to give and he knows how to sacrifice it, he knows he’ll gladly lay it at your altar, bloody and broken, if it could only mean making sure he’d never be surprised by a new scar again. Maybe you’d even remember him a little when he was gone.

He’s trying to tell you all of that, the messy syllables punching through his throat. “Niemals, niemals, nie,…” but before he can finish he’s failing already, falling apart under you and screaming your name and emptying everything he has into you.

It’s not enough.

You’re laying on top of him now and he tries his best to be gentle but his entire body is shaking as he rolls you off and staggers to his bathroom, slamming the door behind him and sinking against it.

He shatters in a whole-body-wracking sob.

You’re never going to look at him again.

He tucks his legs in, squeezing his knees into his chest, squeezing even harder as a burn radiates out from the stitches, trying to rein in his ragged breathing in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, he can save this and cover up the fact that he’s crying.

It was just meant to be casual sex. He wasn’t supposed to start caring. That’s not what you wanted. It’s not fair to you. It’s not your fault he let himself get emotional. And now he’s ruined the only thing you two did have, he wanted to make you feel better and now he’s made you so uncomfortable and…and…

He slams his forehead into his knees and sobs again.

He’s pathetic. Pathetic to think this could be something more. Pathetic to think he could have something more.

Everything hurts.

That’s what he signed up for, isn’t it?

That’s what he deserves.

A knock on the door has his head jerking back up, hands clutching his knees hard enough the knuckles just might pop through the skin. “Go away!”

“No.” Your tone is flat as he hears a thunk against the other side of the door, imagining you leaning against it and sliding down, mirroring him perfectly. “Not until you talk to me.”

“No.”

You sigh. “That's how it’s gonna be? Well, in that case, to quote a man I…admire very much, I can make you talk.” You drop your voice, trying and failing to mimic his battle growl.

He snorts despite himself.

You take that as a cue to continue. “For one, I’m not leaving until you do. You’ll be stuck with my annoying-ass voice forever.”

“I like your voice.”

“Oh…umm…thank you. In that case I’ll…I’ll steal all your knives and I’ll draw a kangaroo on your door and-”

“You wouldn’t dare,” he growls.

“Guess you’ll never know if you keep that door closed. And that’s not all, I’ll…I’ll steal those cheap chocolates we get every supply drop. Don’t deny it, I know everyone joked it was Ghost but I saw you take them all. You love those.” You smile, laughing a little. “On the other hand, I’ll fly to Austria right now if that’s what it takes to get some chocolate you’d really like. I’d even get you some of those waffle things you were telling Soap about that one time I caught you both raiding the snack cabinets. Well, I’d probably eat some of those. But I promise to save most of them for you. Just…please talk to me. I’ll…I’ll…” you’re cut off by your own squeak as the door opens and you fall backwards.

His hands are already there to catch you, and once you sit back up he stays there, half-crouched and awkward, eyes anywhere but your own.

Slowly, you open your arms, watching his head turn back to you.

In an instant he’s lunged into you, burrowing his face into your neck with an awkward grunt as he stretches his bad leg out to the side. You try to change to a comfier position for him but the man is like a brick wall.

It’s nice.

So you let yourself stay there, wrapping around him as he wraps around you on the hard floor. It’s a softness unknown to you both, two soldiers carved razor-sharp from solid steel. But as you let yourself sink into him, you find yourself liking the strange tranquility of this moment, the way two bodies made for war can still drape over each other and feel peace instead. Against all better judgement, against any scrap of common sense you have left, you find yourself yearning for a few less battles if it can mean more of this. You let your eyes close, imagining it for just a little while.

After a while, he pulls back, moving to lean against the wall and pulling you so you can balance on his uninjured thigh. You let your head loll onto his shoulder, face turned into the hood. His chin rests on your temple.

“Are you cold?”

He grunts noncommittally, eyes half-closed. “Are you?”

“Nooo,” you mumble, burrowing into his neck. He shifts, maneuvering you off his lap, only to grunt when he tries to push on his leg.

“I got it.” You push yourself up, moving to the bed to retrieve one of the blankets there, carefully wrapping it around both of your torsos when you settle back onto his lap. Your legs stick out, but you don’t really care.

After a while you feel his heartbeat begin to pick up again and adjust yourself to look up at him. His eyes drift to you before he sighs. “Do you…still want me to talk?”

You nod.

“Alright then. I will talk. I do not think it is what you want to hear.”

You bite your lip and try to keep your breathing steady as he continues.

“Back in the med bay. No. Before that.” He shakes his head emphatically. “When we were assigned to two different groups…No…Scheiße, I…”

You run a shaky hand up and down his chest. “It’s okay. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

His fingers dig into you for a fraction of a second, so quick you think you might have imagined it before his entire body is deflating, his head settling back against the wall. “They ambushed us. You weren’t there but…they hit us on patrol, hit us and ran before we could counter. I did not even see who hit me, I just look up one moment and down the next and the snow is all red and…” His voice drops to barely a whisper “Das war meines.” He trails off completely, a finger tracing circles on your shoulder. “I've been wounded before. I've accepted death before. This time...before I...while I was…” he exhales another irritated sigh. “I was on the ground and…wie sag ich das…ich hab versucht etwas zu tun, mich zu bewegen aber alles was ich tun konnte...I was thinking of you.”

He freezes, turning his head away and dropping his hands from you. But instead of moving away, you kiss a patch of skin just outside the hood, watching the muscle under it jump. “Is that all you want to tell me?”

He shakes his head.

“Do you think you can keep going?”

His head turns back to you briefly before he tilts it up to stare at the ceiling. “When I was in the med bay. Well, I…it went like this. I wake up and you are there and I think, König this is it, now you are finally dead. And then I feel the pain and I see the nurse and you were moving away and I couldn't…du warst da und dann warst du fast nicht mehr da und ich konnte nicht atmen. Ich…” he shakes his head back and forth, back and forth. “Ich konnte nicht ohne dich. Ich…needed you to stay.” His head jerks down again, eyes boring into yours with all the intensity of a tornado, arms wrapping around you once again. “I need you to stay.”

You nod, holding him tight, the weight of the words unspoken tangling in your chest and constricting your tongue. Stay. With me. He won't ask for more than tonight, not when neither of you can even risk asking for a tomorrow. Stay with me. For as long as you have. A day, maybe. A month. Maybe you'll get out of this mess someday and get years.

Stay with me for a lifetime. Whatever lifetime we get.

You nod, whispering a promise into his skin. Always. Your fingers drift down along his leg, tracing just outside the stitches, your eyes following the line of gooseprickles that rise in their wake.

You feel more than you hear your name being whispered into your hair, and as you look up fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding it up over his hip, his ribs, his chest. Sliding around the edge of the hood, pushing it up, up, up. Until the fabric slides off. You gaze in awe, watching his jaw flex as his lips part to form a word whose sound hides in the back of his throat. Always. You look back into his eyes before surging forward, hugging him tight, tight enough to strangle, you think, but he’s already wrapping himself around you with equal fervor.

“You know,” you murmur, breath ruffling his hair, “if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

He huffs a laugh, the air catching in his lungs with a choking sound. His grip tightens.

When you wake you find you’ve been moved to the bed, but his face is still buried in your neck, unmoving despite the soft light filtering in your window. You smile a little, watching the early-morning sky, perfectly clear and pale blue.

It matches his eyes.

---

German Translations

du bist wie ein Traum: You are like a dream

Ich kann nicht glauben, dass du wirklich hier bist: I can’t believe you are here

Du bist viel zu gut für mich: You are too good to me

Dein Lächeln und…: You smile and…

Ich weiß nicht wie ich dich loslassen soll aber du verdienst so viel mehr als: I don't know how I am supposed to let go of you (eventually) but you (clearly) deserve so much more than me

Niemals, niemals, nie: never again, never again, never

Scheiße: shit

Das war meines: it was mine

wie sag ich das: how do I say this

ich hab versucht etwas zu tun, mich zu bewegen aber alles was ich tun konnte: I tried doing something, moving, but all I could do

du warst da und dann warst du fast nicht mehr da und ich konnte nicht atmen. Ich…: you were there and then you nearly weren’t there and I could not breathe. I…

Ich konnte nicht ohne dich. Ich…: I couldn’t without you. I…

#könig #könig call of duty #cod #cod mwii #könig x reader

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winterchimez · 4 months

Text

A New Beginning With You | Lee Juyeon

SUMMARY: it has been a couple of years since you and your childhood best friend, Juyeon, went on your separate ways. Years later, you were given the opportunity to return to Seoul to pursue a new career, only to find out that your new employer is the one you have been dreading to see. Will you toss away all of the emotions again, or will you finally come to terms and fix this broken relationship with him?

PAIRING: ceo!Juyeon x f!reader

GENRE: office au, ex-childhood friends to lovers, coming of age, angst, fluff

WARNINGS: nc-17, slow-burn, this is pretty angsty ngl 😭, betrayal, several heart wrenching moments (it takes a while for both Juyeon and reader to figure out their emotions), language (one curse word), miscommunication, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk a couple of times, several heated arguments, petnames (princess, sweetheart), kissing

WORD COUNT: 15,466

A/N: here is my submission for deoboyznet's holiday exchange event!! boo @cloverdaisies i'm your secret santa 🎅👀 ngl i did struggle with the prompts that you gave mainly cs i don't usually read/watch coming of age works so i hope i did this fic justice 🥹🥹🥹 big big shoutout to @momhwa-agenda for choosing the banner, also helping me to beta read (along with @from-izzy @juyeonszn) sending my unending kisses and hugs to all of you 😘💕

Seven years ago

“What do you mean you’re leaving?”

It all just felt so sudden, and you weren’t sure if you were hallucinating as you heard those words that came out from the mouth of your best friend for the past seventeen years. You both have made a promise to one another since you both were in kindergarten that no matter how big or small the situation may be, you both will always have each other’s backs and that no secrets were to be kept from one another, even if they may feel like you have been punched right into the face during the aftermath of it all.

Or that was what you thought.

“Y/N…I had no control over anything…you do know how my father often has to travel across the globe for his job—”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that you decided to keep it a secret from me when you first discovered that you were potentially going to follow your father’s footsteps for his company.”

From the beginning, you knew that Juyeon’s father worked at a relatively elite corporate company. Because of his status, he was often sent away to various countries to fulfill his job. It has been decades since his father has been in and out of Seoul, and he would often travel on his own not wanting to bother his family and wanting them to have a peaceful life here.

Never in a million years would you have thought that he would bring his entire family along with him as he starts a new chapter in his life in the States, and also get Juyeon to follow in his father’s footsteps.

You were on the verge of crying, your cheeks were heating up, and you had unintentionally balled up your fists, clearly failing terribly to suppress the anger and betrayal you felt.

“I just don’t get it, Juyeon. You have always wanted to pursue basketball. Hell, you have even sought a sports scholarship to get into one of the prestigious universities in Seoul! Why are you giving up now?” You huffed.

You could tell that he was showing some reluctance in his answer, and truthfully, he didn’t really know how to give you an answer, either. But he decided to reply in the most plausible and fitting one that was right for the current situation you both were in.

“Family has to always come first, Y/N. If it were for my family's future, especially my stay-at-home mother and younger brother, I would do anything to ensure my father and I can provide for them.”

You scoffed. “Bullshit.”

You took a few steps forward until you were merely inches apart. Looking straight into Juyeon’s eyes, you could tell he felt the same way and was also trying to hold back his tears.

“You’re not the Juyeon I know. My Juyeon, who has been right by my side ever since we were kids, would always go above and beyond to work for what he truly wants. He is never afraid to voice his opinion, and he would do anything to ensure his happiness would be fulfilled no matter the consequences.”

Finally, the tears that you have held back for so long began dripping down your face as you began to hit him simultaneously on his chest.

“What exactly happened to you, Juyeon?”

At the same time, tears clouded his vision as a single teardrop dripped onto his face. You could tell that something was holding him back from telling you the truth, if any, and his following answer would break you down even more.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

With that, a black car pulls up at the school entrance, revealing his younger brother rolling down the window to call out for his big brother. You could see multiple pieces of luggage lined up at the back trunk of the car, and they were ready to head straight to the airport.

With a glance back to signal to his family that he would be coming shortly, he turned to you to apologise once more before gently pushing you away to leave.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I wish you all the best in your future as you enter university and eventually the workforce.”

Just like that, Juyeon quickly sped down the stairs and opened the door to the car before settling in. Within seconds, his parents, sitting in the front seats, gave you a little wave before they drove away right through the exit.

Almost instantly, all of the built-up tension was suddenly released from you all at once, and you finally broke down crying at the entrance of your high school. What you thought would be a memorable, happy graduation for you both as you parted ways with your youth years turned out to be one sad separation from your best friend.

You both planned your summer holidays with one another before officially enrolling in university in the autumn. You were going to head to Busan for a five-day trip during the first month, going to visit your aunt who lived on the outskirts of Seoul to help her in her fieldwork (especially when she has a soft spot for Juyeon), and even going to visit all of the bazaars that were going to be held in central Seoul.

There were so many potential activities and times you could have had with one another, and you were even planning to propose to Juyeon that you wanted to be more than just childhood friends.

Because you have been having an insane crush on him since you were kids, and you realised it was love by the time you both entered high school.

Unfortunately, it was too late to confess your love to him, as he was now long gone, heading straight to the airport before he eventually said his final goodbye to his home for the past seventeen years, Seoul.

Maybe it was fate that you both were just not meant to be with one another; perhaps it was why his father had no choice but to bring his whole family with him to start a new life in the States.

For the first time, you cursed and blamed yourself for having such hope and planning a potential future with someone who was clearly out of your league, and you thought it had all been a waste of time since the beginning.

With that, the little needle-felted cat you have been hiding and made last night was released from your grips as he fell towards the stairs and eventually towards the ground. As you noticed, more tears kept welling up in your eyes, and you brought both hands to cover your face, not wanting to care about anything right now.

I shouldn’t have had so much hope. I was stupid enough actually to fall in love with you, Juyeon.

Present Day

“Oh, Y/N! Looks like your article just got published in the London Mail this morning!”

Your co-worker gave you a little pat on the back before he placed the newspapers right onto your desk, and it was clear how your article was published right on the front page with your name written very obviously at the right corner.

“Please, it was nothing. It’s what I do all the time,” you replied bluntly.

“What do you mean it was nothing? You just interviewed the rising actor of the month! That’s big news, and you deserve to celebrate it!"

“Please, it really is nothing—”

“Hey everyone, our department needs a little night out after work at the local pub! We’re toasting to Y/N’s big break in the news today!”

Your co-worker shouted out loud, and eventually, cheers erupted in the office, everyone congratulating you and thinking about the potential drinks and songs they would go for once work is over.

You smiled and chuckled at the sight. You have always loved your job and are grateful to have met such a fantastic group of people in this company.

It wasn’t your dream to pursue the path of becoming a reporter in the beginning. Sure, you have always had a passion for writing, but you have always considered it your hobby. Thanks to your sister, who was studying abroad in Manchester then, who convinced you to take that leap of faith and turn that hobby into a potential job.

So here you were, living the best of your life. You followed your sister’s footsteps and went on to live abroad in the UK, enrolling in the University of Manchester, where you successfully graduated with honours the past year. Thankfully, you secured a place in the London Mail right after graduation due to your outstanding grades.

The move from Manchester to London was a bit tough, but you initially managed to pull through with your sister and her boyfriend's help. They were kind enough to help you settle down and stayed with you for the first couple weeks before returning to Manchester. You miss your sister’s presence, but you know that eventually, you had to venture out on your own and face reality as an adult.

It has been a year, and you have adapted to living alone. Often, things would get tough, but it was also thanks to you having such a fantastic team of colleagues that you were able to pull through it all, even when there were times you had to work overtime to fulfill all of the datelines that were pilling up nonstop, especially during the holiday seasons.

It wasn’t until recently that your article was accepted and published on the main cover page of the news, and that was when you finally earned your big break after a year. The company has deemed you to be one of the most talented youngsters they have had over the past decade, and they were more than happy to have had you as their employee.

Since then, things have settled down for you as you got a pay rise and had fewer hours to give you more time to rest well, mainly when you only survived with four to five hours of sleep daily. Now, you can eat your breakfast correctly and get a good seven to eight hours of sleep before coming every day.

Just as your co-workers were having the time of their lives trying to figure out the plans for tonight after work, your office desk telephone rang, and you picked it up hastily, thinking that you’d have another big scoop to write about

But it was from the CEO.

“Miss Y/N, please report to my office immediately.”

You were back home after that fun night out at your local pub with your co-workers, holding a beer in hand as you FaceTime your sister over the phone.

“Well, it’s a good opportunity for you, don’t you think, Y/N?”

“I’m not too sure about all of this, sis. Like yeah, it would be great that I would be back home, but still—”

“Hey, I know mom would be ecstatic to have you back in Seoul with her. And it just so happened that you have been telling me how you recently began feeling a little homesick. I’d say it would be great for you to take up the offer.” She reassured.

It was the moment your mouth fell open wide when you heard that you had been offered to be a senior reporter for one of Seoul’s top magazines at the moment, GQ Korea, where you would be interviewing potentially all of the current well-known celebrities in the country and getting a higher pay as well.

It seems that they have come across your contributions from the London Mail, and they were keen to have you on their team. Your first thought was grateful as your works were recognised globally, but also because you miss being home. But another part of you has already settled in the UK, so you weren’t sure if leaving now would be the right choice.

But now that your sister has given you some input, that was when you knew that it wouldn’t hurt to try it out, at the very least.

With one final sip of your beer, you leaned forward and gave your sister a smile for the first time since calling her this evening.

“I’m going home now, sis.”

It has been a week since you settled into Seoul, and you have loved being back in your comfort zone: the culture, the food, and the environment you grew up in.

Your mom was overjoyed as she picked you up from the airport, insisting she would take your luggage, especially when you have flown almost twenty-four hours just to get home. By the time you got home, your mom was already ready and prepared with all the dishes she had premade before your arrival and needed to heat them quickly.

You quickly took a shower before joining her at the dining table. You both chatted for close to midnight before she told you she would sleep ahead of you. Meanwhile, you decided to clean up your childhood bedroom to make space for everything you brought back from London.

There was this nostalgia as you entered your room; everything was still the same, exactly how you had left it when you left for the UK years ago. The same old blue painting on the wall, all your posters hung on them, even your favourite comic books that were still arranged nicely on your bookshelf.

You could tell there wasn’t a speck of dust in the room, indicating that your mom must have cleaned it occasionally. You couldn’t help but sigh, thinking about all the hard work she always puts herself through.

It took you a while to go through all your belongings, mainly because you were reminiscing as you looked at the pictures, books, and figurines scattered throughout your room.

It wasn’t until you came across a box tucked away at the corners of your room that you pulled them out towards the centre as you opened them up.

And god, you wished you hadn’t done that.

All the pictures and items contained memories you had with your past lover, Lee Juyeon.

You paused momentarily before reaching out to pick up the first item on top of the box: a picture.

It was taken when you both were in kindergarten. You were holding hands, wearing backpacks and little yellow helmets on your heads. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight; it was nostalgic and cute.

Right after that, you took out a pair of bracelets right below the picture. It was a friendship bracelet that you both made during middle school. It was summer when you recently discovered the trend of making friendship bracelets, where you went straight to Juyeon’s house across the street, practically dragged him back to your house, and got him to make one with you. You giggled at the thought of how Juyeon was so lost at the time, having to come to you almost every five seconds to tell you that he had either lost a piece or was having trouble threading the beads through the string.

When you thought it would all be good memories, you stumbled upon the one item you wished you would not have to see again.

The needle-felted cat you made for him on the night before graduation.

Unbeknownst to you, your hands began to tremble as you took the cat into your hands, staring at it as the memories flashed back: how you would give this to Juyeon and tell him that you were ready to be more than just close friends, up to the point of how he suddenly announced to you that he was leaving for good.

Slowly, you felt that your tears were beginning to well up in your eyes, and you quickly dumped all of the items back into the box and tucked them back in the corner, using a few items you had in your room, such as cardboard to block it completely out of sight.

You were not ready to go through all of the roller coasters of emotion once again.

Especially when deep down in your heart, you still had some feelings left for him. Even if you did not wish to admit it out loud.

You stood outside the tall building as you tried your best to fix up the blazer that your mum insisted you put on for your big day. With your handbag and laptop, you gave yourself a deep breath before mentally preparing yourself that this would be your new workplace from now on.

You looked to see the vast sign plastered outside the building: GQ Korea. You were definitely at the right place. It took you a few seconds to finally be able to take your very first steps into the building. Once you did, you were amazed at the astonishing art that filled the reception floor. It was a fashion and art magazine; after all, there was no doubt that the company's directors entailed such a choice of decorations to captivate everyone who walked into their building.

You walked straight towards the counter, where you were greeted by two ladies who were already expecting your arrival. Immediately, they got you signed up in the system, and one guided you to one of the fifth floors, where you would be meeting your new team and department that you would be working with.

As you were guided into the head of the department’s office, Ms Kim, who has been guiding and overlooking this particular department for the past five years, greeted you and made you feel comfortable instantly, which made all of your tensed-up muscles relax fairly quickly. She communicated well with you and, surprisingly, even shared some of the same ideals as you did. You were beyond grateful to hear when she mentioned that she has kept up with your works from the London Mail, and it was about time that the team needed someone like you.

Once both of you had taken the time to break the ice, Ms Kim led you to your desk just outside her office, where countless cubicles filled the entire floor. At first glance, you have estimated that there were about fifty employees who worked in this department. It didn’t take them long to greet you personally before you eventually made your way to your desk in the middle of the floor.

As you unloaded your bag of materials onto the desk and placed them in an organised manner, your hands digging through your bag finally stopped when you felt a familiar material. Instantly, you pulled it out to check what it was, and you were once again left speechless with what it was.

A picture of you and Juyeon back during your graduation from high school.

The only plausible reason it was in your workbag was because of your mother. You have never once told her that things ended badly between you both, and you have always shrugged off the fact that you were still keeping in touch with the man himself and that you both were still having a healthy friendship. You just didn’t want her to worry much, especially when she knew how much you both have been through, and she practically treated Juyeon like her own son.

As all loving mothers would do, she woke up hours ahead of you this morning to prepare you a filling bento box. She wrapped it with traditional cloth and placed it neatly into your work bag. At the same time, she probably put the little picture frame into the bag, hoping it would motivate you during work and decorate your new workplace.

With just a few seconds of staring at it, you looked down to see an empty trash bin that sat right beneath your work desk, and without thinking much, you immediately placed the picture right into it.

I’m sorry, mom. But I will not be needing it anymore.

Your first week of work flew by quickly as you easily got used to the working lifestyle. Seoul was your home, and it wasn’t hard to adapt back to the culture. In fact, you were grateful that your new group of co-workers could be on par with the ones back in London; they were all as great and supportive in helping you ease into the new environment. Your new co-workers even encouraged you to head out for a little drink at the local izakaya restaurant after work since it has been a long weekend for everyone, and you surely did enjoy the little company you had before heading home a little after midnight.

In terms of fitting in as GQ Korea's new reporter, it has been a thrilling ride learning about all of the entertainment biz that has been going on in the country. Since your forte was with celebrities, your head of department had assigned you the same, focusing on the rising K-Pop stars in the industry.

It has been a while since you kept up with Korean celebrities since you mainly focused on Western artists abroad for a couple of years. But as you kept up with the news and made sure to read the newspaper first thing every morning you came right in, you made sure that you have been kept up to date with all of the latest announcements and events that have been going on in the industry.

Today was a big day for you as Ms Kim had instructed you to head up to the top floor, where you would first meet up with the CEO for the very first time since joining the company as he would like to brief you through the details in regards to the celebrities that will be coming later in the day.

You thought it was probably some hotshot celeb for the CEO to personally guide you through each step regarding what or how you should deal with them. However, you weren’t too mad since you figured they probably did things differently here in Seoul.

As you finally reached the top floor, you were then escorted by whom you assumed to be the CEO’s personal assistant, who was already expecting your arrival as they kindly let your head department know that she was free to leave. The walk down the hallway towards the CEO’s office seemed a little daunting to you for some reason; perhaps it was also because you were meeting someone who is considered to be one of the famous people in the heart of Seoul—there’s a reason why GQ Korea is always on the top-selling markets.

As the assistant kindly knocked on the door and got a verbal cue from the other side, she took a step behind to let you move forward as you slowly turned the doorknob to enter the room.

Immediately, you notice how the entire office is decorated extravagantly, filled with tons of high-end decorations that suit the taste of the CEO himself. The wide, clear windows dominated most of the room, offering a panoramic cityscape view. A curated selection of artwork filled the walls, which added a little personal touch to the working space.

You didn’t realise that your mouth was wide open as you slowly took in the mesmerising view until you turned towards the desk, where the CEO was sitting on his chair with his back facing you, flipping through multiple documents in his hands.

As you slowly made your way towards him, your little footsteps made the CEO’s ears perk up, causing the man to stand up and finally turn to face you in person for the first time.

With that, your entire world seemed to pause for a moment.

What exactly was going on? There was no way this young man could be the CEO, especially when you were certain that he had left Seoul years ago and sworn that his chances of returning to his homeland would be close to zero. Your laptop in hand was slowly beginning to slip off before you were brought back to reality and quickly caught it before it eventually hit the ground.

That was when you finally muttered your first words since stepping into the CEO’s office.

“J-Juyeon…?”

It was pretty evident that the man himself was just as confused and shocked as you were; he practically stood there motionless, trying his best to make sense of the current situation.

“Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” you replied.

You were about to go haywire just from this interaction alone. It was hard enough for you to move on from what happened seven years ago, and it proved to be a lot harder than you thought when you came back a few weeks ago to see that all of the things that you’ve tried so hard to forget were now back in the comforts of your bedroom.

Ever since then, you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t want anything to do with Juyeon anymore, and you have decided to shut your heart regarding anything related to the man himself.

If only it were easier said than done.

Juyeon finally took his first step away from his desk as he slowly approached you, extending his hand as if he was craving your touch again. You could tell that he was desperate for a little physical contact, perhaps to prove that you really stood in front of him.

But you couldn’t, and you weren’t ready for any of that, so you backed off instead, giving him a clear signal that you weren’t on the same page as he was.

There was this evident sadness in his eyes, and he tried his best to hold back his tears as his eyes began to water.

“Y/N…I—”

“Miss L/N. You can address me that, Mr. Lee,” you bluntly replied before diverting your attention to the ground.

It was when Juyeon finally got himself together and straightened his posture before clearing his throat. “Very well, Miss L/N. I’ll quickly brief you on the events happening today, with the group of celebrities arriving in a couple of hours soon. Please, have a seat.”

“I hate him, I really do!” You screamed at the top of your lungs as you took the pint of beer in your hands before slamming it down onto the table. Your sister had to restrain you from causing a scene at the bar, trying to settle you down and handing you a glass of water to chug down your system.

Your sister had just recently came back to Seoul for a little vacation, and you immediately asked that she could keep you accompany down at the local izakaya restaurant that you often visited to let off some steam.

“Karma is really on your side huh, Y/N,” your sister teased.

“I-It’s not funny, sissy….” your voice began to slur, indicating that you were starting to get drunk at this point. “Why…of all people, why?! Why did it have to be him? As my boss! In my new workplace!”

“Look, it can’t be that bad. Who knows, maybe you might get another chance again with him.”

“That’s not the point, sissy….after what he has done to me? After all that I have done to try my best to move on from the past? This should not be happening to me at all!” Your voice broke as you began tearing up, causing your sister to pull you close into her embrace, slowly caressing your back to help soothe you a little.

Your sister was well aware of your history with Juyeon, especially when you’ve spent weeks, which eventually that turned into months of crying out to her over the phone since she was already studying abroad then, she knew how much the whole situation wrecked you badly, to the point that it has taken you months to start going out and meeting people outside of university eventually.

She was there when you were both younger, seeing how you developed a crush on him later and knowing you weren’t just childhood friends and had something way more than that. It was a shame that Juyeon left without telling you, and she would’ve gone to the airport to confront him about it if only she had been back in Seoul then. But deep down, she knew Juyeon as much as you did and knew that suddenly, something probably came up for him to leave the country like that.

As a matter of fact, your sister had always wished and rooted for you both to become a couple eventually; she had always been a firm believer of childhood friends to lovers anyway, especially when that was how she ended up with her current fiancé. Now that you both have reunited in the most unexpected way, she believes her theory about you both eventually having a second chance was stronger than ever before.

With that, she lifted her eyebrows as if she had just come up with a brilliant idea. “Say, little sis. What exactly are you up to at work tomorrow?”

You sniffled. “Umm…I guess I have a meeting with Juyeon to discuss the upcoming fashion show that is due to be set in a couple of months. Why do you ask?”

Your sister gave you a little smirk in return before cradling you like a baby again. “Oh, it was nothing. I’m sure you’ll have a fruitful discussion tomorrow.”

You dreaded coming to work today. The very first reason is that you woke up with a really bad hangover from last night, and you practically don’t remember much that has happened besides chugging down pints of beer from your system. It has been a while since you’ve drank this much, and most importantly, because you were upset over something. Otherwise, you were pretty much sober most of the time and always being the one to drag your co-workers home because they were far worse than you were.

And, of course, it was also because you hated the idea that you must come face-to-face with your so-called ex-childhood best friend again—this time, in an actual meeting. Well, in some ways, you were glad that it was only a meeting for a potentially massive event that the company had been known to host for years and that Juyeon would probably be able to distinguish between personal and work-life issues.

But still, you just weren’t ready to face him again, especially with the huge shock you’d received the day before. It was already hard enough for you to stay focused when Juyeon briefed you through your job scope and the meeting you would have for the day, trying your best not to let the tears drip down nor let the anger boil up.

However, you had no choice since you must also stay professional at your work. You just got back to Korea, and there was no way you would chicken out and move everything back to the UK again. Well, potentially, you could, but it wouldn’t be an ethical move to make.

So here you are, hugging your documents and laptop towards your chest, standing outside the meeting room. You had to take a few deep breaths before you could muster up the courage to turn the doorknob and enter the room.

Once you did, you noticed how the entire room was filled up, with most of your co-workers in their designated seats, sorting through the documents they would use for the meeting. You immediately diverted your attention towards the front where Juyeon was seated, and you hated how you had actually spent a good minute admiring his features.

He wore a simple beige coat over a white tee, paired with a pair of black slim pants with leather shoes. His black hair was styled all the way back, leaving a little strand of hair down on his forehead. He was busy flipping through his documents while setting up his laptop to project the PowerPoint slides for everyone to see.

You just hated how extremely good-looking he was right now and that there was a high chance that you wouldn’t concentrate on your work throughout the next hour.

And how you would actually want to run into his embrace and give him a little peck on the lips—

Wait, what?

As Juyeon finally lifted his head from the monitor and looked at everyone else in the room, it was a sign that the meeting was about to commence, and you quickly took the still available seat, the front seat.

Throughout the presentation, you tried your best to take in everything that Juyeon- well, your CEO, was trying to convey to his employees. It turns out that this upcoming fashion show would be one of the most crucial ones the company has ever done for years, especially now that all the big brands are willing to collaborate with GQ Korea and put out the best fashion show in the country.

It was quite a breathtaking look to see how Juyeon was passionate about his job, talking and explaining each detail to his employees carefully while making it enjoyable for everyone to learn or be part of. With that, you have noticed how every single employee in the room was constantly taking down details as quickly as lightning, making sure not to miss out on any small detail. There were moments when some would raise their hands to ask further questions, and Juyeon was more than happy to answer them, making the whole meeting seem less stressful but instead quite engaging in return.

There were times when you found yourself staring at him more than you should’ve, and every time he diverted his attention towards you, you would quickly duck your head down to look back at your laptop as if you were busy typing away on your notes.

Time seemed to have passed quickly as Juyeon finally wrapped up the meeting and let everyone off. In fact, the meeting ended right at the dot, and it was just past noon, meaning it was lunchtime for all employees. Everyone was quick to dash through the door, their stomach grumbling after using up all of the energy for the meeting. For you, you decided to pack up your belongings at your own pace, knowing that you would be spending your lunch back at your cubicle with the little bento box your mother had packed for you this morning.

As you are about to head straight for the door, the familiar voice stops you in your tracks, making you turn your head back to face the man himself.

“Miss L/N, I would like to have a word with you.”

Oh, god. It’s here.

Mentally, you were cursing out all the vulgar words you knew at the back of your mind as you slowly approached your CEO, trying your best not to let out the croak in your voice.

“Y-Yes, may I help you, Mr Lee?”

“There is a place that I have to pay a short visit, and I would like you to keep me company.”

Whenever an employer or the CEO would address their employees to keep them company as they pay a visit to a certain location, it usually meant that it was to meet up with a client or to survey certain products or places that could significantly be crucial for the company’s success.

But here you were, sitting in one of the fancy cafes that wasn’t far from the office, having lunch with your CEO, who was sitting in front of you.

Juyeon said nothing along the way as he brought you to the cafe, insisting that you sit down and order from the menu with no questions asked. As awkward as it was, you were about to deny his request before he looked straight down towards the menu, not even glancing at you.

You figured this was probably part of the job, and there was no way you would deny your CEO’s request right here and then, especially when it was working hours and everything was strictly business.

Once both of you have made your orders to the waitress that just passed by a minute ago, you diverted your attention towards the tablecloth, not wanting to look straight at Juyeon. However, his deep voice caught your attention, and you lifted your head back up after hearing the words you had wanted to say for the past seven years.

“I think it’s about time I told you the truth, Y/N.”

Oh, he called you by your name.

As you focus your attention right on him, you can see the sadness in his eyes once more, just like how it was back when you first encountered him in his office the day before.

“Umm…with due respect Mr Lee—”

“Juyeon is fine. We’re outside of work, Y/N. I would appreciate it if you could talk to me like we used to, and I will do the same,” he responded, slowly resting his arms on the tablecloth as if he were leaning slightly closer to you.

With that you took a significantly big gulp, knowing that the day you longed for was finally here. You were about to get the answers you desperately needed to know, but at the same time, you weren’t so sure if you wanted to know the truth right now, especially with all of the things that you have gone through trying your best to take him out of your life completely.

“Will you please give me a chance to listen to what I have to say?” He pleaded, looking at you with a desperate look in his eyes.

Your gut and mind were trying to tell you that you have done your best to completely eliminate him in your life for the past seven years. Would you give up easily and open your enclosed heart just like that? After all of the hard work that you have done?

Say no, Y/N. You have gotten over the guy. It’s all over between you two—

“Yeah. Go on.”

Goddammit, Y/N.

Immediately, his eyes lit up upon your words, and his shoulders slumped down a little, indicating that he has relaxed a bit.

“Oh, thank god, Y/N. I guess you were still the same old Y/N that I remembered—”

“You said we’re not employers and employees now, so I’d say cut to the chase with what you have to say while you can, Juyeon,” you bluntly replied as you crossed your arms around you.

In return, Juyeon gave you a little weak smile and a sigh before he eventually diverted his full attention to you.

“Remember when we got separated back in high school? During our graduation day, you—”

“You left me behind, Juyeon.”

“I didn’t have a choice back then, Y/N. But now I’m here to tell you everything. You have no idea how our stomach dropped when my father came home and told us that his company was about to go bankrupt, and we were on the verge of losing everything.”

So that was what happened.

“And how it was also the day my mother found out that she had cancer and her chances of recovery were lower than expected.”

“J-Juyeon…w-why didn’t you tell me all of this?”

“I wanted to. I really wanted to so badly, Y/N. Because you’re my best friend, and you deserve to know everything. But I just didn’t know how to, and I was afraid of what might happen, and I don’t want to put the pressure on you.”

“W-Where are they now, then?”

Juyeon had to take in a big breath before choosing his following words wisely, knowing it must’ve been hard to even talk about it publicly. “Mom became bedridden, and she’s still receiving treatment in one of the hospitals back in the States. Dad is currently running a small little shop near the hospital along with my little brother.”

“Then, why did you come back here?”

“I came back because starting a proper company there was tough. I figured there might be a slight chance things could work out here in Seoul. With the remaining funds we had, I eventually begged my dad to give his final trust in me as I found a way to make things work out. Luckily, we had some acquaintances back here, and they helped me get into one of the prestigious universities and eventually landed me a job here at GQ Korea. I started as a normal employee before I eventually became their CEO a year prior.”

It was then you noticed a single teardrop on the verge of dripping down his face from the corners of his eyes. Naturally and unbeknownst to you, your hand reached for the tissues placed neatly on the table, and you leaned in to wipe away that single teardrop.

Only then did you both realise what you were doing, and that was when your eyes widened, and you were about to prop down back to your seat.

That was until Juyeon grabbed your wrist, not wanting to let you go.

“This teardrop is nothing, Y/N. I’m so sorry you have to see this side of me. It’s not very cool, I guess,” he chuckled, trying his best to lighten up the mood a bit.

As soon as he says those words, your other free hand eventually finds itself on Juyeon’s shoulders, causing the male’s eyes to widen this time before you finally speak out the words that you have always wanted to tell straight to his face all those years ago.

“Juyeon, you need to start learning to put yourself before others. And I really mean it.”

“Y/N, I—”

“No buts. Even after all these years, you’re still the same as before, always prioritising others before your own. As much as you are the most kind-hearted soul I’ve ever seen, you need to start loving and giving yourself some credit,” you replied, adding a little pressure onto your grip on his shoulders.

With that, none of you said a word for a good couple of seconds, and you both just spent the entire time staring into each other's eyes as if you were conveying your messages non-verbally. That was until Juyeon finally decided to break the tension off by smiling at you, a genuine one you had consistently grown to love back then.

“So, am I back in your good graces now, princess?”

You were finally brought back to your senses, and you quickly removed both hands from him and sat down swiftly back on your chair, ducking your head down while giving a slight pout.

Juyeon missed this sight of you and was absolutely admiring the whole situation that unfolded before him. Just then, both of your meals arrived, and the same waitress from before gently placed each of your respective ones in front of you. Juyeon then gently placed the cutlery in front of you.

“Dig in,” he mentioned before whipping out the napkin and placing it right on his lap, before going in with his cutlery to cut through his steak.

In return, you swiftly picked up yours and roughly cut through your freshly cooked breaded cod fish.

“No one calls a normal friend princess, Lee freaking Juyeon,” you mumbled.

Just when you thought that would be the only time you would actually spend some time alone with Juyeon, it turns out the male had perceived that you both were back just the way you were when you were kids.

Since that day, Juyeon would actually make his way out to invite you often to join lunch with him at the same cafe, usually ordering a different dish from the wide selection of food on the menu. What Juyeon loved the most about the place was the ambience and good coffee, and he would always be seen ordering a big jumbo-sized cup of iced latte to bring back to his office to help get through the rest of the day.

You, on the other hand, were often stuck with more or less the same few dishes that you’ve tried, and you, too, would order your usual iced americano back to the office once you both were done with the meal.

At first, you have always tried your best to avoid having contact with him; that first lunch date was just a typical day, as you would try to convince yourself. But whenever Juyeon gets a little break out from the office, he would either send you a personal email or sometimes ask his personal assistant to come down to your department to inform you to wait for the man down at the lobby at noon.

You obviously could do your very best to come up with excuses to let him know that you’re busy with something or you already have plans to eat with your co-workers, but it seemed that the heart does what it wants, and it does not align with the signals that your brain is trying to tell you; which is to avoid and cut off this whole friendship for good.

So you were back to being the giddy seventeen-year-old little girl who often felt excited whenever you spent time with your childhood friend. Hence, every time you were taking the very last escalator down to the lobby, you would often use that little time to admire the way Juyeon would always lean against one of the pillars while swiping through his phone with one hand and keeping the other one inside the pocket of his coat.

But you did not want to admit it just yet, so you would constantly remind yourself that he’s only back for a while; it wouldn’t be so easy to open up your ice-cold heart again.

That was until today.

Just a few days prior, Juyeon had given you a ticket to visit this huge Christmas market in the town centre. At first, you stared at the paper blankly, thinking it was all a joke and he couldn’t have gone with you. But the male made it clear that he invited you to come along, which would be the two of you together.

Your heart was bouncing so fast that you were afraid it would eventually pop out of your chest as you slowly approached where you both were supposed to meet. You figured it best that you arrived twenty minutes earlier to compose yourself and try to understand your situation.

As you paced back and forth for god knows how long, you finally heard your name being called out from the far distance, and you perked your head up to see that Juyeon was waving his hands and running towards you like he used to back when he was a kid.

Once he finally stopped right in front of you, he began panting heavily to the point you were genuinely worried if this man was actually alright.

“Woah, what the hell happened to you? You seemed like you were escaping from a monster or something,” you joked.

“N-No…I went to get this for you…” Juyeon then hands you a brown paper bag, and you accept it while being all confused.

“Open it, Y/N. Have a look at what’s inside,” he insisted before resting both hands on his hips.

While giving Juyeon a weird look, you finally peeped into the bag and extended your arm into the brown bag before you finally felt something soft against your palms and eventually pulled whatever it was out.

Your eyes widened when you saw what it was.

“J-Juyeon…this…”

“Remember way back in high school; we promised each other that we would want to visit the Christmas markets, and how badly did you want this soft alpaca plushie that was way too expensive for neither of us to get our hands on? Yeah, I actually got it before the store closed like minutes ago.”

He remembered.

You have always been vocal about wanting this plushie for years, and there was no way your parents were buying it for you, claiming that it was way too expensive (which it was since it was part of a collaboration with one of the high-end fashion companies) and that you wouldn’t have a proper use for it. Back then, Juyeon couldn’t do anything but reassure you that one day, your wish would definitely come true while always giving you pinky promises.

And now, you were finally receiving your biggest Christmas wishlist item as an adult, and you couldn’t be much happier.

You laughed. “Juyeon, you do realise that I’m not a child anymore, right?”

“Who says plushies are only meant for young children? Why can’t adults have their collection? I’ll tell you I have a Build-A-Bear in my bedroom.”

“You must be joking.”

“Mark my words, Y/N.”

Eventually, you both started laughing out loud before you hugged the plushie close to you, activating the heating function in the toy to keep yourself warm; that was the main purpose that made you want to purchase this product long ago.

“Thank you, Juyeon.”

“Well, instead of thanking me, why don’t you keep me company for the night as we explore this Christmas market together?”

You smiled. “With pleasure.”

“Oh, Juyeon~ Have I ever told you how much I’ve admired your good looks? I’d like to think that your family genes are something else.”

After an hour or two of walking through the entire Christmas market and having too much fun going to each stall and trying out the different activities and food, you eventually stumbled upon one located towards the furthest end and sold various eggnog drinks. You have never tried this particular alcoholic beverage before; you were mostly used to the beers that you often get back in the pubs in London. However, Juyeon insisted that you give it a go especially for the Christmas season, and he eventually bought both of you a mug.

The initial taste seemed a bit off to you, but once the alcohol started kicking in, you eventually began to chug the whole liquid down as if it were nobody’s business. After some time, one mug of eggnog began turning into two, and then three, and finally, you were pretty sure that you were on your fifth mug by now.

That was when Juyeon realised that he should’ve stopped you by your second or third mug because now you were barely walking properly without his aid, and your speech began to slur as he linked your arms over his shoulders, trying his best to support you while walking you back home.

You both had to take the subway trains to head back to your apartment and during the entire time, you were clingy with your childhood friend, often wrapping your arms around him and giving him a tight squeeze while mumbling incoherent words. You caught the attention of all passengers and passersby, but Juyeon could only smile at how you looked right now.

He had never seen you drunk before, and this was a whole new experience for him. But he wasn’t too mad that you reminded him so much of your younger self; it was as if he was witnessing the seven-year-old you again in the present day.

After walking from the subway and, eventually, towards your front door to your apartment, Juyeon was about to take you up towards the elevator until you stopped him in his tracks.

“No Juyeon~ why are you leaving me so early? We still have so much more to see in the market!”

He smiled. “Y/N, I think it’s time for you to head home to get some rest.”

“But I don’t wanna~”

With that, Juyeon grabbed hold of both your shoulders as he bent down to be on the same eye level as you, trying his best to talk to you in your drunken stage.

“Y/N, I’ll see you tomorrow, hmm? We’ve had loads of fun today, and besides, your mom and sister would be worried sick about you at this late hour.”

Immediately, you lifted your pinky at him, which caused the male to stare at you blankly. “Pinky promise that I get to see you tomorrow, Juyeon-ie?”

Oh, how insanely adorable you were to Juyeon right now.

He chuckled before linking his pinky with yours, shaking it left and right slightly as if to seal the agreement. “I promise, we’ll see each other in the office first thing tomorrow morning.”

With the final pinky shake, Juyeon guided you towards the elevator and pressed the button. As you both waited for the elevator to come down to the ground floor, you suddenly broke off the silence, and Juyeon had to blink twice to know he wasn’t hearing things wrong.

“I’ve always liked you Juyeon…even after all these years…I never stopped loving you…” you sobbed.

Your nose was now sniffling, and you closed your eyes to let the tears drip down, not caring what Juyeon would think about all this. You were done trying to hold it back for so long, and you needed to let the burden that you’ve held onto for years finally let loose, and well, you were drunk at this point, so you couldn’t really control the words that slipped out from your mouth.

“Why did you leave me just like that…did you know how much pain it has caused…and how hard I’ve tried to forget every single thing about you? I even threw away all of the pictures and toys we’d had together because the flashbacks of memories would often play in my mind upon seeing them,” you were now crying, and you began to raise your voice a little.

“Why, Juyeon, WHY!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, and immediately you burst out crying, plopping straight down onto the concrete floor. You hated how the alcohol wasn’t making you think straight and that you were feeling a roller coaster of emotions right now.

Just let it out, Y/N. You’ve suffered long enough—

Immediately, a warm pair of arms wrapped around you, and a hand gently pushed your head down to let you rest on the crook of their neck. You finally glanced up to see that it was Juyeon, holding you tight and resting his chin on the top of your head.

As much as you want to push yourself away from him, you can’t. You couldn’t explain why, and you have even made a pact to yourself that you wouldn’t want anything associated with him anymore.

But why did the saying the heart wants what it wants have to be so accurate?

You hated it, hated how you have always let your emotions take full control over your mind, not making you think straight, and often going against your plans. In fact, your heart ached so badly, and it was the same feeling that you felt seven years ago, right when Juyeon left you alone as he hopped onto his vehicle.

The only thing you could do right now was to let the stream of tears pour down and cry out to your heart’s content. You felt weak, and you could do nothing to push him away.

Juyeon couldn’t blame you, though, because how could he? Especially when he was the one who said nothing all those years ago. Now, he was seeing with his own eyes how much pain and trouble it has cost you, turning you into a vulnerable little petite girl who was crying her heart out in his arms.

With that, he moved his lips down to plant a little kiss on your head and eventually closed his eyes as your cries filled up his eyedrums.

“I’ll make it work, Y/N. I promise you that I’ll make things work this time.”

“Oh, good fucking hell.”

You were sitting on your work desk, bringing your hands to cover up your face. It was an absolute nightmare to hear from your sister about what happened the night before—how you got drunk and caused a little scene in public, which made everyone turn their attention towards you, how Juyeon was the one who brought you all the way back home, how you had a breakdown in front of him to the point you eventually fell asleep after crying your eyes out to the point he had to physically gave you a piggyback up to your front door and assisted your sister to plop you down on your bed.

If there was a nearby cliff near your workplace, you would do anything to ditch work and actually head straight up there to jump off from the embarrassment.

You were already not having a good time reuniting with Juyeon, let alone trying to sort your emotions out while seeing him at work every day and that he was your boss. But to confess your deepest thoughts while being vulnerable and drunk in front of him? That was not written anywhere in your books.

As you were spending your entire lunch break groaning over what happened last night, you immediately received a call from your desk telephone, and you quickly composed yourself before picking the phone up.

“Y-Yes, hello? This is L/N from the editorial department; how may I assist you for the day?”

“Good afternoon, Miss L/N. Please report to the CEO’s office immediately whenever you can.”

Oh, Jesus take the wheel.

The entire walk up to the CEO’s office was nerve-wracking; it was as if you were being sent to detention at the principal’s office because you messed up really badly. So many thoughts ran through your mind, thinking about how to apologise to Juyeon for the scene you had caused the day prior.

Once you walked into his office, you tried your best to devise the best phrase to start the conversation, but it seemed that Juyeon beat you to it, immediately handing you a red ginseng hangover drink.

You reluctantly accepted it while mumbling a soft ‘thank you’ before he insisted that you drink it immediately before him. Once you were done, he took the bottle away and tossed it straight into the bin, directly briefing you about the upcoming fashion show, now only a month away.

Now that it was back to business and you were no longer childhood friends, you tried your best to keep your composure as you listened to all of the details he was going through one by one with you.

Eventually, he decided to bring you along to meet up with one of the CEOs of the high-end brands on a trip to Seoul to discuss the plan in person further. Apparently, you have met with the CEO of Fendi, and it’s one of the brands that have been associated with GQ Korea for decades now. Somehow, Juyeon has gotten pretty close with the famous man himself over the years.

All of you met up in the famous Four Seasons Hotel for a pretty luxurious high-tea session while discussing the whole fashion show. It was mostly just Juyeon conversing with the CEO himself; you were mainly there to take down all the essential notes that both parties spoke.

Usually, it would have been his personal assistant job, but he insisted that you come along this time, saying it was part of your training. To be completely honest, you weren’t sure if Juyeon was the one mixing up between work and personal life issues at this point. All you wanted to do was to pray that this meeting gets over and done with quickly so that you could head back towards the comforts of your cubicle in the office and not face Juyeon for a while.

After an hour or so, it seemed as if the meeting was wrapped, and both parties finally parted ways for now, causing you to head straight back to Juyeon’s vehicle. Many people would think most CEOs would have their chauffeur, but Juyeon insisted that he always preferred to drive alone.

He was still the chatterbox that you have always remembered back in the day, how we would often come up with any possible topic that would keep you entertained; you both could talk for days back then only if both of your families didn’t stop you from heading back home for meal time.

There was only one problem this time: you were still troubled by what had happened the day before, and it was hard enough to even join Juyeon for this meeting with the CEO of Fendi in the first place. Now that both of you were alone in the car, things were far more awkward than they already were. Juyeon never touched on the topic from last night, but still, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him in the face.

Just when you thought Juyeon was about to take the left turn to head back towards the office, he took the other lane instead and drove towards the opposite direction.

“Juyeon, the office is the other way—”

“Let’s go somewhere, Y/N. Treat this as a little gift of stepping out of office hours for a bit. You’ll still get paid, though; don’t worry. I’ll make sure to inform your head department about your absence.”

What on earth is going through your mind, Juyeon?

It has been a few minutes since you have physically pressed yourself against the tank, slowly admiring various species swimming about minding their own business.

Apparently, you both have arrived at the COEX Aquarium, known for homing a large variety of rare species of aquatic animals and typically the best place for school trips, holidays, and even as a date.

Wait, scratch that last one—

“Didn’t you always say how coming here has been on your bucket list for the longest time?” Juyeon questioned you as he slowly walked up towards where you were from behind, slipping both of his hands into his cloak as he, too, began admiring the beauty in front of him.

That was when you finally diverted your attention to his face for the first time since hopping into his car this morning to head to the hotel. You were upset at yourself with how the feelings were the same as before: his pretty sculpted facial features, how good-looking he actually was, and how he could do the bare minimum, yet you would still swoon over the man himself.

With all that has happened lately, something told you this was more than friend behaviour. Sure, Juyeon might be trying his best to patch up this whole relationship you once had, taking you to places and recreating new memories with one another, but you weren’t sure if Juyeon felt the same way as you did.

That deep feeling within the pit of your stomach made you feel uncomfortable, and it was about time you finally confronted him about the one question that had pondered at the back of your mind for the longest time.

If both of you wanted to continue whatever was happening between you, you needed to get the specific answer first.

And it has to be now.

“Juyeon, can I ask you something?”

He hummed. “Yeah, go ahead.”

With that, you turned your entire body facing him and took a deep breath to figure out the right words to convey your feelings for the man himself. “I meant what I said the night before.”

That alone was enough to get his full attention, as he was now slowly turning himself fully towards you as if he was staring straight into your soul. You wanted to chicken out so badly and tell him it was nothing, and you both could just continue with the silence. But you have already come so far, and you know that this will only continue to haunt you for as long as you live if you aren’t going to address it now.

So you mustered up every bit of courage left within you, and opened your mouth again.

“I never stopped loving you, Juyeon. Even though we have lost contact for so many years, I never once stop thinking about you every single day. As much as I’ve tried so hard to forget about you, hell, I threw everything that reminded me of you into the dumpster or boxes and kept them deep somewhere where I wouldn’t even think about searching for it ever again, but to no avail.”

Your body began to tremble as you tried to calm yourself down by playing with your fingers. “I couldn’t, Juyeon. Every time I thought I have succeeded in getting rid of you from my life for good, the thought of you just somehow finds its way to creep back up in my mind.”

“I have no idea if karma sent me back here to Seoul, especially when my career was doing well in London. Imagine coming back and discovering that my new employer is someone I’ve tried so hard to forget about? The mixed emotions I felt then were insufferable.”

As you began to speak more, tears started welling up in your eyes, causing your heartbeat to rise rapidly. But you decided to press on and choke back on your tears.

“With all that you have done for me for the past weeks and months, I truly have no idea what on earth you are trying to prove to me, Lee Juyeon. Are you trying to fix our broken friendship? Or is it something more? What exactly are you even planning to do, Juyeon?”

Finally, you took a few steps closer until you were inches away from him.

“Be honest with me now, Juyeon. What exactly am I to you?”

There was this tense moment between you two, and neither of you said a word to one another. You were looking straight at your childhood friend with red, puffy eyes, and his eyes were widened, looking at you and trying his best to take in everything you’d said.

Something tells you that it was best not to hear about Juyeon’s opinions at all for the fear of rejection once more. If you had the power to dissect his mind to determine his thoughts and feelings about all of this, you would. Yet, you were still afraid of what might happen next.

As you wait for his response, you slowly examine how his shoulders began to slump, and eventually he tries his best to talk some sense into you.

“Y/N, I—”

“Ah! It’s Juyeon-ie!”

The both of you immediately darted your head towards where the voice was coming from, and that was when you noticed a female running towards Juyeon while waving her hands, and a rather old man accompanied her.

Who could it be?

“Saeran? And Uncle Lee? What are you two doing here?” Juyeon questioned as the two individuals made their way towards you. It was also then they both noticed your presence and the soft-spoken young lady was the one who broke the ice.

“You must be?”

“O-Oh, I umm—”

“She’s Y/N; she used to be my neighbour back in the days when I was still living in Seoul.”

Just a neighbour, huh?

“Ah, Y/N!” The young female extended her hand for a little handshake, in which you awkwardly return the favour. “It’s a pleasure to meet you in person finally! Juyeon has spoken a lot about you.”

Before you could even give a reply, it seemed that the older man whom you now know was his uncle, or rather, perceived that he was the one who managed to help Juyeon get a new start in life back here in Seoul, finally spoke and diverted Juyeon’s attention back to what they were here for in the first place.

“We had made a little appointment this afternoon, don’t you remember, Juyeon?”

“Oh, yes! I’m so sorry. It must’ve completely slipped my mind since I have been pretty caught up with work lately,” Juyeon apologised while slightly bowing towards his uncle.

“Not at all, Juyeon. I’m sure you must’ve been pretty busy with-” his uncle then diverts his attention towards you. “-a lot of things.”

You definitely felt way too uncomfortable at the moment, and you needed to get out of the aquarium right this second if you did not wish to be suffocated by all of the tension in the air.

Immediately, you gently removed your hands from the young female and quickly made a ninety-degree bow towards all of them.

“My humble apologies, it seems that I have disrupted an important meeting. I shall take my leave now.”

As soon as you turned your heel towards the other direction, you suddenly felt a pair of hands grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/N! Wait, I’ll drive you back—”

“No, it’s fine,” you tried your best to smile at him. “I’ll just take the train located right outside the aquarium. Have a good day.”

You instantly slip your hands off his grip and dash straight towards the front door, trying your best not to look back and ignore the tears dripping down your face as you walk down the steps towards the subway.

It was now week two of cutting off all contact with Juyeon. It hadn’t been easy for you both at work and personally. In fact, you haven’t been doing great at all. It was as if you had turned into a living zombie, often feeling rather emotionless and drowning yourself in paperwork and avoiding contact with another except for your head of department.

Since Juyeon was still your employer and CEO, he has definitely tried all means of contacting you, asking to see if you were doing okay or trying to get you up to his office to talk about the fashion show, or rather, to talk things out. But every single time, you would find ways to decline his request as best as possible while respecting him as your boss first and foremost.

After a week of declining his invitations, his messages and calls eventually stopped coming a week ago; it was as if he had completely vanished for a little while. From what you have heard, it seemed that he had some urgent matters that he had to deal with, causing him to leave the office into the hands of his assistant for now.

It was finally a little breather for you since you didn’t have to put on this facade for the time being, letting you let loose for a bit. Going through sleepless nights throughout the past couple of weeks definitely has taken a toll on your mental well-being.

You told yourself you needed to hold it all in for another week. Once this whole fashion show is done, you will get your well-deserved vacation off work for one week.

It’ll be alright. Things will definitely work out in one way or another, Y/N.

It was finally the day for the long-awaited fashion show hosted by GQ Korea and the collaboration among famous brands around the globe. A swarm of people marched into the rented convention hall, filling the entire space within minutes.

You and your co-workers were busy getting everything organised and ensuring everything was in place. Since you were in the editorial department, you have been going about talking to all of the big figureheads from each respective brand, mostly just breaking the ice as well as interviewing them so that you have your necessary notes to draft out the proposal for the upcoming magazine.

Time passed quickly and it was time for the show to begin. As you sat down on one of the chairs, you made your way towards the far end corners of the hall, getting ready your notepad and trusty blue ballpoint pen.

As the light began to dim, Juyeon eventually made his way up on stage with a microphone, giving the guests a warm welcome and a little opening speech before the models began their runway walk. Seeing the man himself again was a bittersweet moment for you. As much as you wanted nothing more associated with him, your eyes just couldn’t seem to turn away from him.

It did not help that he was dressed up in a black tuxedo, with his hair styled up with his usual one strand on his forehead. He looked strikingly handsome, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to woo almost everyone in the audience tonight. The way he presented himself was truly magnificent, and you could see why he was able to rise to the ranks of being a CEO at such a young age.

Tears began welling up in your eyes again, but you tried your very best to hold them back and mentally cursed at yourself, thinking that this was all professional work now and that there was no room for any personal matters for the night.

Once he made his desired speech, he eventually came down from the stage and sat at one of the front row seats, and that was where you could clearly see that the very same girl from the aquarium sat right next to him, along with his uncle and personal assistant. It shouldn’t bother you since they are practically family to him. It was none of your business, so why couldn’t you take your eyes off them?

Or rather, with him and the young lady who was clearly having fun whispering into each other’s ears.

It has nothing to do with me.

You constantly reminded yourself that whenever you tried to spare a glance at them, all while you were taking down notes from the show. It was definitely a challenge trying to stay focused, and there were a couple of times when you needed to close your eyes for a bit and take a few deep breaths to proceed with your work.

The show finished smoothly, and the audience responded with a standing ovation. You definitely felt a sense of accomplishment from that, too, given that all of your hard work over the past months had finally paid off.

The event wouldn’t have been complete without an after-party, so here you were in the hall next door—with all of the guests, models, and even staff alike having loads of fun chatting about with a glass of champagne in hand. Eventually, the DJ that was hired began to blast out a wide selection of music, indicating that whoever felt comfortable hitting up the dance floor was able to do so.

You smiled as you saw a couple of your close co-workers pull up some moves on the dance floor; it reminded you of loads of your time back in the UK—going to the local pubs and just having the time of your life drinking and partying with your friends.

Just as you were lost in thought, you suddenly felt a little tap on your shoulder, and you turned around to see that Juyeon’s assistant insisted that someone wanted to see you in person.

You didn’t think much of it since you already had a little bit of alcohol in your system, so when you finally realised who was the one who wanted to see you, panic began to rush through your veins, and you tried your best to make sense of the situation.

“Mr Lee? Is something the matter?”

You did not need to see the older male again, especially when he gave you a not-so-good first impression back at the aquarium. However, you had no reason to devise an excuse to leave; he was much superior to you anyway.

“Why, good evening, Miss L/N. I hope you are enjoying the party so far, and congratulations on the job well done. I must say Juyeon always excels in his work, no matter what obstacles he encounters along the way.”

The only thing you could do was flash a little smile back at him, as much as it made you uncomfortable. In the back of your mind, you have dozens of questions running through your mind, thinking about in what manner his uncle has any business with you.

Eventually, he began speaking as if he was chanting through a book, giving you a whole load of information that was a little bit too much to take in at the moment.

“It seems that Seoul life has been too tedious for you, don’t you think? Have you ever wondered about transferring back to London? Perhaps it would be a much better place for you to reside in.”

“Umm, with all due respect, sir, how did you know about my background—”

“Oh, I have always kept an eye on you; you were Juyeon’s childhood friend, after all.”

Keyword. “Were”

“With that being said, I have read a couple of your articles before from the London Mail, and I must say, they are actually quite extraordinary.”

“W-Why, t-thank you, Mr Lee. I really do appreciate them—”

“Speaking of transferring, the CEO for Fendi has actually taken quite a liking to you and your work. Even throughout the whole fashion show back there, he has been talking on and on about you, saying how you would prove to be a fruitful addition to his company.”

Just like that, Mr Lee began to step forward to hand you a little sticky note, which clearly had a number written on it.

“If you ever change your mind, give me a call. Besides, I’m sure you already know the answer deep within your heart. I will be waiting,” Mr Lee responded with a smug before entering back into the hall.

You stared back down at the note and eventually began thinking about what his uncle said prior. Suddenly, you started feeling conflicted, thinking this was the right place to belong. But it could also be his way of trying to brainwash you; you’re pretty sure you felt like a menace in his eyes.

You decided you needed some fresh air to clear your thoughts for a bit, so you headed out towards the balcony right up the stairs. You figured that an open-air rooftop seemed perfect for some alone time.

If only you were the only one who was planning to use the same exact spot that is.

Right when you reached the door that was ajar on the rooftop, you immediately recognised the two people standing before you, the female leaning in to give your childhood friend a peck on the lips.

You stand there motionless, and immediately, your blood starts to boil, something you haven’t felt in a while. The glass of champagne then drops towards the ground, and the shattered noises make the two turn their attention towards you.

It all felt like a sudden pause like time had stopped for a few moments. The both of you were staring deep into each other’s eyes, not knowing what to do or how to respond. But then, Juyeon eventually spoke to break the silence.

Before you could ever hear what he had to say, you were already dashing down the stairs, not caring that you had missed a couple of steps and that there were a few instances where you felt like you were about to trip and fall straight down back where you came from.

Not even wanting to let your co-workers know about anything, you quickly dashed through the front gates, running through the now gloomy skies that were bound to have a heavy downpour within a few minutes.

You should’ve remembered that Juyeon was the basketball team leader back in high school for a reason; no matter how fast you ran through the streets, he eventually caught you and yanked you back towards him, causing you to press up against his chest.

“Let me go! Let me go—”

“Y/N! Please! Let us just talk things out.”

You used up all of your strength and pushed him away as hard as you could before you began raising your voice back at him. “Talk? Don’t be ridiculous. You have done more than enough, and I have seen enough.”

“Y/N, no. You don’t understand—”

“What else do I have to understand!?!? You have done more than enough to shatter me over and over again, Juyeon! And to think I was dumb enough actually to think we could work things out again!” You screamed.

“Y/N…please…just calm down and listen to what I have to say…” Juyeon was now practically begging you, begging you just to stop.

“You clearly don’t understand the pain that I’ve gone through, Juyeon. You weren’t there to witness or experience it anyway! Why did we even become friends in the first place, huh!?!?”

God, cat’s out of the bag.

That last sentence was definitely not meant to be said at all; it was one of your deepest, darkest thoughts that you have sworn that nobody should ever find out about, especially when it is directed towards the person who stood before you.

“I hate you, Juyeon…I really do…for all of the pain that you have caused me…” you were now sobbing like a child, which pained Juyeon so much seeing how you were now.

With that, a loud thunder resonated throughout the city, and a heavy downpour began pouring down from the skies. The both of you were now soaked, and you mustered up the courage to say your final words to him as the tears began mixing with the rain.

“Please…I beg of you…just stop looking for me…or even talk to me at all…just leave me alone…that’s the last thing I will ask of you…”

“I don’t want anything to do with you no more.”

You slowly began backing away, and when you reached a good amount of distance, you turned your heel and began running away into the shadows, not sparing a final glance at your childhood friend who stood at the same spot under the pouring rain.

This is my final goodbye, Juyeon.

If you thought the whole week of you being a walking zombie in the office was terrible enough, clearly, nobody was prepared for the current state that you were in. You locked yourself up in your room and refused to see anybody, even your mother and sister.

You would constantly lay in bed, tossing and turning, even though it was hard to fall asleep. Since you avoided contact with your family members, there was nothing much they could do but place a tray filled with your meals and dishes in front of your door, waiting for you to eventually open up during times when you actually felt hungry and took them into your room to savour them all on your own.

You didn’t need anyone or anything now; you craved alone time and peace.

As you curl up in bed, sometimes even at the corners of your room, your eyes would often dart towards the sticky note handed to you by his uncle. So many times you have thought about it: what if life would’ve been better abroad and coming back to Seoul was truly a grave mistake that you have made? What if this whole decision was actually an awakening moment for you to realise that this is not where you should belong?

Days went back and eventually, it became a week. There were only a few days left before you returned to the office for work. The longer you kept staring at the note, the more motivated you were to take the risk and start again.

Every time you were reminded of what happened that very fateful night, you rationalised that maybe what Mr Lee said was true after all. Perhaps Seoul is really not your place to belong.

As the clock ticked, your desire to leave everything behind felt stronger.

You waited until the clock finally struck noon for you to finally stand up with your phone in hand, punching each number into the dial pad and bringing it to your ear.

Once the ringing eventually got through and you were met with a voice on the other end of the line, you took a deep breath before muttering the words you have been reluctant about all this while.

“I’ll take up the offer.”

“For the very last time sissy, I promise I will be fine,” you spoke through your headphones as you were on a video call with your sister, who was back home at your apartment.

“You have never done something so impulsive before, and given that you made this whole decision during your darkest hours? I highly doubt that you’re okay, Miss Y/N.”

“Well, I can assure you that the darkest hours are gone, and I’m now free and much happier. I can work with Fendi!”

Your sister sighed through the phone. “Working with big brands is one thing; what about your physical and mental well-being?”

“Rome doesn’t sound too bad to me, and besides, living in the UK for a couple of years has definitely given me the experience I’ve needed to survive back in the EU again.”

“Fine. Just…be careful, okay? Give mom and I a call once you’ve touched down.”

You gave a little flying kiss through the phone. “Don’t worry, I will.”

After waving goodbye on both sides, you clicked the red end call button and leaned back onto the chair you had been sitting on for the past hour. It was definitely a shocker to you that Fendi was willing to accept you immediately without having to go through any sort of significant interviews and that they were kind enough to even provide accommodations for you. At the same time, you work for them under a contract of two years. Frankly, it was a good deal and a steal.

You slowly stare into the digital clock on the big screen, which eventually becomes an announcement.

“All passengers bound for Rome, Italy, please head to gate 4B and be ready for boarding!”

Instantly, almost all of the people around you began standing and lining up as if they needed to be the first to get on board. You have always disliked and never understood why the rush and pushing against one another trying to fight for the first slot, so you often just sat back and relaxed until only a couple of folks left to board the plane.

Time went by quickly, and thirty minutes have passed since then. Now, only a handful of passengers are left to board. That was when it was your cue to get up and sling your backpack onto your back.

As you slowly walked towards the counter to let the flight attendants scan your passport and let you through the gates, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulders, causing you to turn behind to see who it was.

You didn’t have much time to respond until you were pulled in for a tight embrace; that familiar cologne was enough to make the tears well up in your eyes again.

“J-Juyeon…” your voice muffled.

“Stop. Let me just…let me do the talking this time. Please.”

You would have definitely fought back and started pushing him away once more, but it seems that you were either too taken aback or lost all of the energy throughout the past week to do so. Instead, you just stood there motionless in his arms.

“Y/N, I know it would be horrible for me to ask for forgiveness because I definitely do not deserve any of that after what I have put you through. Or even for another chance because you clearly gave me one, and it was my fault for not appreciating nor cherishing the moment when it happened,” he began stroking your head, his fingers running through your long, silky, soft hair.

“But one thing is for sure: I will not let you go this time. This time, I am going to hold you so tight that there’s no room for you to escape; I’ll make sure that you will forever be safe and sound in my arms, and I will be the one who is going to bring you joy instead of pain and tears.”

He then bends down to give you a little kiss on your forehead. “You mean a lot to me, Y/N. And I’d like to think you are more than just a friend; you’re my other half. Without you, I wouldn’t be able to move on, knowing that I will lose you again, and this time, forever, if I don’t stop you now.”

“So please, Y/N. I’m begging you. Please don’t go.”

With his final words, you eventually find your arms slowly snaking up his back and returning the hug to him. You weren’t too sure why you did that, especially after the tremendous pain you have gone through the past week in particular. At the end of the day, the phrase where the heart wants what it wants will forever remain faithful to you, whether you like it or not.

You sobbed. “You’re not going to make me stay that easily.”

“Oh yeah? You think I’m not capable of doing that?”

“Prove it then.”

Instantly, one of his hands travelled back up to your chin and lifted them, causing you to look directly towards his as he slowly bent down to interlock his lips with yours. The kiss was rather heated, as if the both of you had been waiting for this to come so badly. You couldn’t care less if you both were actually making out at the airport.

Juyeon cupped your face with both hands as he tilted his head for you to gain more entrance into his. His lips felt soft yet demanding as if you were devouring a forbidden fruit. In return, you run your fingers through his silky black hair.

After a few minutes, you both broke apart for some fresh air, trying your best to catch your breath simultaneously.

“Is that supposed to make me stay put in Seoul, Juyeon?” You teased.

With that, he merely replied with a little smile followed by a smirk. “That, Miss Y/N, was actually a pact you made to me. Treat it as a contract, if you will, that you are bound to stay by my side no matter what.”

“Ugh, that’s so foul of you!”

“You should know that I have my ways; I’m not the CEO of GQ Korea for nothing.”

The both of you eventually burst out into laughter while Juyeon finds both hands on your waist while you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Listen, Y/N. I want to apologise on behalf of my uncle and Saeran.”

“Oh, yeah. No big deal. By the way, is Saeran—”

“It’s not what you think it is.”

“It’s not?”

He smiled. “She’s my little cousin, and she often showers me with tons of hugs and kisses, even though I’ve told her to stop a million times.”

“Well, you’re lucky to have a cousin who loves you that much,” you replied.

“Yeah, but she’s going to have to learn that she can’t do that anymore because someone else is going to replace her job for that.”

As much as you knew who he referred to, you still wanted to drag this further. “And who exactly is that?”

“Hmm…maybe the contract before wasn’t clear enough. Should I make another one?”

You slapped his chest immediately. “Don’t you dare, we’re in public.”

Again, another burst of laughter was genuinely beginning to make you feel a lot better, even to the point of slowly healing all the scars you have had before.

With that, you needed to make yourself clear to the man himself.

“Juyeon, can I just be honest with you?”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“I appreciate you doing all of this for me, but I just want to give you a heads-up that it’ll take a while for me to heal from everything completely and that I’m sorry if I don’t give you the exact treatment that you expect from me, and I—”

You were then silenced with another kiss on the lips; this time, Juyeon took the time to shower you with as many kisses as possible, making sure that each was worthwhile before breaking the kiss again.

“Y/N, I don’t care about all of that. You can take as long as you need, but just know that I will be here for each step you take, and I’ll give you support whenever you need it. I promise. I will not leave you behind ever again.”

As you both plastered a soft smile, you leaned in to rest your forehead against each other, taking in everything that had happened minutes prior.

“Here’s to a new beginning with you.”

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fayes-fics · 2 years

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Innocence Pt I

Innocence Series Masterpost

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Pairing: Benedict Bridgteron x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict teaches his intended what he can do with his mouth. First in a series following on from Temptation.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, innocence kink, dirty talk, sex education, nipple play, oral sex (m to f)

Word count: 4.0k

Authors note: welcome to this first in a new series of fics that follow on from Temptation! Thanks to @makaylan for beta read. I hope you all enjoy! <3

You wake to what sounds like hail. But it can’t be. There is silence again, then after a short while, a pitter-patter on glass.

Hail doesn’t sound like that.

You pad out of bed and go to the window, pushing aside the heavy silk drape to look out.

It’s not raining, in fact, it’s a clear night, and the moon is throwing stark shadows. Just as you’re wondering what the noise could have been, you spy some gravel on your windowsill and movement below. Stepping into a moonbeam is the face of your now-intended Benedict Bridgerton.

You quickly throw up the sash window.

“What are you doing here?” you hiss down at him, glancing around nervously to ensure he has not been seen.

“Do you share a room?” He calls up softly.

“No...” you frown, “why?”

“Excellent, I’m coming up,” is all he says before you startle at the physical prowess he displays, effortlessly scaling a thick drainpipe and swinging himself onto the mini balcony in the middle of your room. He is clad in a ruffled shirt and trousers on this warm summer evening.

You hurry over and push aside those curtains, yanking open the French doors and almost tumble against him. You breathe his name, and his lips capture yours in a searing passionate kiss—your insides fizzing from the illicit thrill that he has come to visit you in the dead of night.

“I had to see you again,” he explains, lips peppering across your face, his arms wrapped tight around your waist.

“But the ball only finished a few hours ago,” you point out, the last word dying off as he gently bites your earlobe, silently chastising yourself for stating the obvious.

“And I have been thinking about you ever since,” he rasps in your ear. “Your scent and taste on my fingers is too much to bear. I had to see you.” The tinge of desperation and passion in his voice catches your breath. “I need more of you; I need to teach you more things. Right now,” he says fiercely.

“Benedict,” you stutter and cling to him as he walks you back into your bedroom, his kiss hot and heavy again.

“Does your door lock?” he asks softly, ghosting over your lips as he manoeuvres you towards your bed.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Is it locked right now?“ his tone gets even lower.

“Yes,” it’s barely audible.

He cups your face in his hands. “Good.” He says the word languorous and decadently, and you feel something inside you catch fire. “Are you ready to learn some new things?” A finger traces the bow of your lips as he asks.

“Yes, husband,” it’s fervent and breathy.

“I’m not your husband yet,” he simpers. “If I were, you would be screaming my name about now.”

“Like… like that servant lady did... that I saw in the gardens?”

“Just like that,” a hand smears down your throat to rest on the expanse of skin above the neckline of your nightgown, “you would feel so good you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.”

You feel your heart hammering against your chest right below his warm palm.

He moves you both slowly until he sits on the edge of your bed, pulling you to stand between his legs, him looking up at you with a knowing smile.

“Remember I said I’d teach you what we can do with our mouths?” His voice is silken as his fingers trail lightly over the top of your breast, along the edge of your white cotton nightgown.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Well, tonight, you are going to find out what I can do with mine,” he states, as one blunt fingernail scrapes lightly over the fabric, snagging against your nipple.

Your breath catches, and you rock towards his touch.

“I love how responsive you are.” It's gravelly as his other hand mirrors the action, the thin layer of cotton doing little to dull the sensation.

Then his hands are gone, rounding your bum, his head pitches forward, and you moan as you feel wet heat on your left nipple as he opens his mouth around it, soaking the fabric with his saliva and flicking the point of his tongue against you. Your skin pulls taut, puckering hard against his questing movements. It’s a flash of pleasure that races to your core. His mouth closes up, sucking hard as he scrapes an edge of teeth around your hardened nub, clamping down just enough that you squirm against the firm hold he has on your bottom, your body bowed against him.

“Benedict,” you murmur, feeling drunken, the wet fabric dragging delightfully against your stiff peak.

“Mmm, do you like what my mouth can do to you, my love?”

“Yesssss,” you hiss as he moves across to your other nipple to treat it the same.

“I feel funny again,” you whisper.

“Tell me in detail, darling,” he tutors, pulling away from you a fraction to speak, the warmth of his breath over the wet fabric making you break out into goosebumps.

“My lips feel hot, my nipples feel tingly, and I have an ache between my legs,” you catalogue honestly.

He lets out a resonant sound, the vibration of which skitters across your skin.

“That is desire, my love,” he says quietly, “your body telling you it wants me.”

“I want you very much,” you confirm quickly.

“I know you do. I will give you what you need,” his voice rich and low.

“What will you do to me this time?” you pant, anticipation burning.

“Remember how I touched you between your legs? How I put my fingers inside you?”

“Yes.”

“I'm going to kiss you there,” his tone is dark and glittery.

“With… with your mouth?” you swallow audibly.

“Oh yes,” he chuckles.

“But… but I didn't see the servants do that,” you stumble, trying to understand why he would do such a thing.

“What you saw is only a fraction, my love,” he smirks. “There are so many, many things we can do together. And one of them is me kissing you between your legs.” He smiles at you and tenderly brushes a lock of hair over your shoulder. “You will enjoy it very much, I promise. Do you enjoy it when I run my tongue into your mouth when we kiss?”

“Yes, it feels wonderful,” you breathe, curling your fingers around his broad shoulders, the warmth of his skin seeping through his shirt.

“Well, it will feel even better when I run my tongue inside you… down here.” His voice drops almost an octave as one hand slides from your bottom to the front of your gown, where your thighs meet.

“You want to do that?” your voice incredulous.

“Very much so. I can run my tongue in places you may have never seen yet. But don't worry. Before we are married, you will see all of your body in a mirror. When I teach you exactly how to touch yourself,” it's whispered hotly against your skin, fingers swirling over your pubic hair through your nightgown.

“Will that be tonight?” you ask quickly, eager to know everything he is willing to share.

“I think when I am done kissing between your legs, you will want to sleep.” he smiles smugly, “and it gives me an excuse to return another night. Would you like that? For me to sneak back to you in the middle of the night?”

“Yes, please,” you sway in his grip.

“Mmm, I thought so. Now, let's take off your nightgown,” he says silkily, a hand tugging gently on the hem, bringing it up over your knees.

“I'm not wearing anything else,” you chew your lip gently.

“That's precisely what I want to hear,” he sighs unevenly. “Now take it off for me,” he encourages.

You cross your arms and whip the nightgown up and over your head, sailing onto the bed beside him.

He inhales sharply as you stand utterly naked before him.

“Do I look acceptable to you, husband-to-be?” you inquire nervously, biting your lips and watching his eyes slowly perusing your body.

You can almost feel the weight of his heated gaze. Perhaps subconsciously, he peeks his tongue out and licks his lower lip.

“Oh my love, you are so perfect for me,” his voice soft, fingers wrapping around your waist, then mapping the flare of your hips.

His lips return to your breasts; this time no cotton to separate, just the heat and suction of his mouth. You keen loudly at the extra sensation, and his fingers dig into the back of your thighs, pulling you closer against him. One of your knees nudges up to a bulge in his trousers, and he surges against your leg as his tongue swirls around your nipple.

“Your skin tastes sweet,” he moans, suckling hard, pulling you into a tighter embrace, enveloping your body.

There is now a fire in your core, molten hot, and you feel a drip onto your inside thigh.

“Benedict,” you call softly, “my thighs are sticky again.”

He groans, and his teeth graze you.

“I’ll never tire of you telling me that,” he gusts. You feel fingers sink into your public hair and then down further. “But tell me you are wet for me instead, darling.”

“I am wet for you, Benedict,”

“God, yes you are,” he growls, parting your folds.

He rubs an achingly slow circle around your clit as he bites down on each nipple in turn, not quite to the point of pain but dancing near it, your knees wanting to buckle. You hiss and run your hands into his hair, gripping it in your fist.

You squeak as he suddenly lets go and bands his arms around your thighs, picking you off the ground and collapsing back onto the bed, so you lay atop him, something hard and insistent pushing against your abdomen. He captures your lips with his, rolling until you are under him, diagonal on the bed.

“Oh…”

It's all you can muster at the potent sensation of being so surrounded, his warm weight pinning you down onto the mattress. He pulls your legs open and either side of his.

“How does this feel, my darling?” he asks, kissing your cheek and slowly thrusting his clothed body against the apex of your thighs.

“You feel so… so overwhelming,” you answer candidly, fingertips exploring the muscles on his back and biting your lip.

“Mmmm, good. Are you comfortable?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. Now. Here is where you learn what else my mouth can do,” Benedict’s voice is sinful, a crooked smile spreading over his face.

His lips slide down onto your neck and over your collarbone, dropping hot little kisses that make your skin feel afire. He maps the length of your breastbone with his tongue, achingly slow, leaving a trail of wetness that cools on your skin and makes you shiver, your hands now fisting the sheets around you, flexing with the sensations coursing through your body.

Your breath quickens as he gently nibbles down along your lowest rib, biting the flesh of your side at the dip of your waist, making you writhe at the strange, not quite ticklish, not quite painful sensation. Large warm hands press your hipbones down into the mattress, keeping you still as that tongue swirls patterns over the soft swell of your belly, pausing at your belly button to look up at you.

“How does it feel to have my mouth on your body, fiancée?” He looks up at you with pupils blown; his voice is low and dangerous, pitched to buzz all the way to your core.

“Wonderful,” you sigh in a heavy breath; your nipples crave to be touched again, the ache between your legs flaring hard as the frill of his shirt tickles against your clit.

With his chin resting on your belly, he reaches over to release your vice-like grip on the bedding and brings your right hand to his mouth, suddenly enveloping your pointer and ring finger. You stutter at the sucking on your skin and the swirling of his tongue. He pulls off them with a lascivious wet noise, then guides them to your nipples.

“Touch yourself, darling,” he murmurs, “I can tell you need it.”

You do as asked, and he makes a prideful sound as you gasp and your body flexes under him.

“Mmm, that’s just a preview of what you’ll learn when I teach you how to pleasure yourself,”

“It feels so good, Benedict,” you sigh, “but not as good as your mouth,” you add as a cheeky retort.

His deep chuckle into your skin makes you clench as he inches lower, his mouth feeling so hot. His nose trails into the patch of hair between your legs, and he inhales loudly, almost lewd.

“There it is,” he rumbles, “that delicious smell that has haunted me all evening. I can’t wait to have a real taste.”

You are breathing in short puffs as his knees slide off the bed, and he drags you bodily by the hips to the edge, your shoulders catching slightly on the rucked sheets. He splays your thighs wide apart, your feet resting on his shoulders.

“Look at me,” he demands softly, waiting until you meet his gaze framed by your thighs. “Grab a pillow, darling; I want you to watch me do this to you.”

You do as asked, enjoying the little smile twitching on his lips as you obey his instructions.

“Good girl,” he intones, and something hot and liquid races down your spine at the way he says it.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He smirks. “I just saw your nostrils flare and your pupils dilate; it seems you like it when I call you a…. good girl” you inhale sharply as the last two words are muffled against your flesh as he then envelopes your clitoral hood and sucks hard.

“Oh my god,” you cry out unbidden.

“Shhh, darling, we mustn’t wake the house remember?” He menaces against your warm wet folds, his expression so cocky.

“What are you doing to me?” you query in a loud whisper.

“Do you remember how I touched you here with my thumb earlier? Well, this little nub here…” he pauses to spear the tip of his tongue lightly against your clit, and you stutter even at that feather-light touch. “...It’s the most sensitive spot on your whole body, my love, and it responds to many sensations.” You breathe gustily out of your nose and bite your lip.

“I can lick…” he flattens his tongue and licks a wide strip against it as you keen, your teeth digging into your lip almost painfully.

“Swirl…” the tongue rotates around the spot hitting from the sides as well, a curl of desire unfurling heavy inside.

“Suck…” again, he pulls your flesh between his lips and sucks the bud; you cry quietly, your back arching.

“Even gently bite….” You have no warning as he replaces his lips, holding your swollen nub between his top and bottom teeth; all the while, he stares into your eyes.

You pant heavily at the heavy pulse you feel right at that spot.

“... All to make you feel good. Do you feel good?” He asks, releasing you from his mouth.

“God, yes,” you rush out, desperate for more.

“Now that is just your little pleasure button,” his lecture continues, and you watch his face sink lower, “I can also do this.”

You gasp loudly as he part your folds, and then something warm and wet spears inside your body where his fingers had been earlier tonight—it can only be his tongue.

“This, my love, is your cunt. Say it for me,” he tutors.

“Cunt,” you repeat, and he seems to delight in making you say it.

“It is the source of all this wonderful juicy wetness dripping down your thighs,” he explains before pressing into you again, going deeper, swirling against all your walls.

“I can’t believe you are doing this,” your voice shocked.

“Oh, I could do this all night. You taste delicious,” he assures.

He swirls a finger around your opening, then reaches up to your mouth with a long toned arm.

“Open up darling, taste yourself,” he commands softly. And you do, letting his fingers slip between your lips, a tart-sweet taste blooming on your tongue. “Do you like it?” he asks duskily.

“It’s okay,” you respond truthfully. “Will you taste the same?”

He huffs a laugh at your question. “No, my sweet. A lady tastes different to a man—you will find out very soon.”

“Do all ladies taste the same?” you inquire, curious.

“No,” he admits, “but all that matters is that you taste wonderful to me,” he assures, kissing your inner thigh with soft, warm lips “do you have any more questions? I want to ensure you ask everything you want to know.”

“Will you run your tongue anywhere else?” you wonder aloud.

“Every single place—from the tips of your fingers to the end of your toes and everywhere in between,” he promises huskily.

A finger traces lower, between your bum cheeks.

“Not tonight, but sometime in the future, I will run my tongue back here too, and you will love it,” he says quietly in a way that tells you it’s more taboo.

You shiver at the thought, knowing you will let him do anything to you.

“Once we are married, we can do other wonderful things with your little bottom. I know you love every single one. But tonight, let’s make sure you enjoy my mouth, my love.”

Those are his last words before strong arms encircle your thighs, holding you open in a firm grip. He ploughs his tongue heavily up from your cunt, as he called it, back up to your clit again.

You call out loudly at the heady wash of sensation.

“Shhhh darling, please, I don’t want us to get caught,” he reminds.

Your hand scrabbles across the bed until you find your discarded nightgown. You bring it to your mouth and ball it up slightly and shove one corner into your mouth.

He stops and looks up the plane of your body, surprised. “Did you just gag yourself?” There’s an undercurrent in his voice that makes your cheeks blush.

You nod slowly.

“Oh, we will have so much fun once we are married,” he growls, “well done on that, my clever girl. Now you can scream all you want.”

His tongue spears wet and questing against your clit, swirling narrow circles. You can't think of anything but the movement of his talented face against you, the slight stubble on his face tickling the soft sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

Without thought, your hands run into his luscious hair, gripping around his head, directing his movements as your legs fall further apart, pushing yourself against his mouth, his nose, wanting him to be buried inside you.

“Mmm, see, you are already an expert at asking for what you want.” he chuckles deeply, the hum of his voice making you cry against the material in your mouth.

He ploughs lower, spearing into your channel, his nose nudging your clit. You breathe laboriously through your nose and hear him panting against you as he furrows on, rhythmically plunging his tongue into your cunt, lapping everything up.

Behind your gag, you are chanting his name, scarcely believing that something like this is possible. Nothing you have ever experienced feels as heady as this. The heat of his mouth, the noises he is making, the visceral strength and size of his tongue inside you. If this is just his mouth, you are uncertain you will be able to handle the cock that you saw earlier entering you.

The gag feels slightly uncomfortable in your mouth, which heightens the thrill. Benedict is doing this to you in your parent's home, your mother sleeping just down the hallway, taking your innocence and giving you pleasure before they have even been formally introduced. You told them you had received a proposal, but they are not due to meet until the Smythson Ball in two days when your father returns from a business trip.

He moves back to sucking your clit hard between his lips, swirling, teasing, varying the pressure and speed of his tongue, then using a little edge of his teeth to nip at the tip. You cry against your gag, and he holds your hips firmly as you thrash against the white-hot spike of desire that hits you.

He intensifies his efforts, making debauched encouraging noises as he pulls your swollen bud hard into his mouth.

“Don't stop, please just don't stop,” you sob, chasing something even more intense than you experienced earlier from his fingers, but it's just a whining noise around the material, soaking up all your saliva.

“You are so close, aren't you, come on, my love,” he encourages, “let me feel it, give me more of you to taste.” his little soft plea pushing you closer.

You grip his hair, every muscle in your body tenses, dangling over a precipice, every fibre of your being taut and shaking.

Then with one pass of his teeth over your clit you are breaking. Your world contracting and exploding all at once. Heartbeat wild in your throat, a rush of blood in your ears, eyes clamped shut. Your hips cant up high, and he lets you, his movements matching yours, so his mouth never leaves your body. You know you are leaking onto his face, your inside clenching powerfully, wanting the feeling of something filling you as his fingers did. The burning pulsing ache around your clit makes you scream, yell and convulse, all of it muffled to barely a sound being emitted.

You collapse onto the mattress panting hard, and pull the gag from your mouth, dimly aware he is crawling up your body, laying down softly next to you. You stare at the ceiling for what feels like an eternity, returning slowly to your body, to the moment.

“Did you enjoy my mouth, darling?” he smirks, knowing the answer, licking his lips lasciviously.

“You know I did,” you giggle, flipping onto your side to face him. “Is it not your turn, fiancé?” You whisper, running your hands down his clothed body, desperate to feel his skin, touch and explore the way he has to you.

“My clothes stay on tonight,” he insists with a gentle head shake.

“Let me touch you,” you implore, your hand running over the prominent bulge in his trousers. He groans hungrily but grabs your wrist away.

“You will learn exactly what to do with my cock very soon,” he promises, “but not tonight, darling.”

“But does it not hurt if it’s…” you look at him expectantly for the correct adjective.

“Hard…” he prompts.

“…If it’s hard and you don’t touch it?” you reason.

He smiles. “Sort of. But I will deal with it later.”

“What will you do?” wanting to know everything, your mind filled with images of his hand on his cock earlier, spilling his seed onto your body.

“What you saw me do before,” he says softly, caressing your cheek.

“I want to watch again,” you pout playfully, hoping for a repeat performance.

“You are so wanton. I love that.” He tilts his forehead against yours, and you smell yourself on his face.

“Can I help you with my mouth on your cock?” you whisper boldly.

He makes a strangled noise, and his whole body seems to flex involuntarily, making you relish the thought. “Yes. Soon.”

“If not tonight, when? When will that be?” your tone is bright and determined.

“The night of the Smythson ball. In two days. Until then, my sweet, I shall take my leave. Stay here in bed and sleep well.”

He kisses you deeply, your taste still potent on his lips and tongue. He keeps kissing until your mind goes fuzzy, then springs to his feet quickly, disappearing out the French doors and, you assume, shimmying down the drainpipe. You don't see; you just lie on the bed staring at the ceiling in a daze, knowing you will never be the same again.

Two days will feel like an eternity.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @wysteria-clad @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton

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xxsabitoxx · 1 year

Text

The Pillars and their Wolf Ranking

Warning: Alpha / Beta / Omega type shit. I… yeah. No m!preg or slick tho lmfao just a causal… post hmm

A/N: this is fully meant to be a crack head canon post. The idea came to me while I was delirious at 4am… honestly I should have taken it as a bad omen but here we are. Fun fact I used to strictly write A/B/O fics for a very different fandom LMFAO 🫣

I genuinely could not take this seriously the whole mother fucking time so PAH-LEASE don’t come for me for the cringe… or maybe you like this idk I don’t judge

Tomioka Giyu

Alpha

Against his will tbh, he was hoping to be a beta

He’s more withdrawn and “timid” for lack of better words

A particular someone was enraged when Giyu turned out to be an alpha and not him

His only plus is he doesn’t have to deal with omega heats… the idea makes him a bit uncomfortable

Kocho Shinobu

Beta

She’s relieved, though she wouldn’t have minded being an alpha

Had she gotten the title of omega nobody would have ever heard from her ever again

Mama ain’t raise no bitch… cause mama didn’t raise her but anyways… she’d sooner jump off a cliff head first into a rocky ravine before letting some alpha mate her

She can go about her life as normal

Rengoku Kyojuro

Alpha

He’s not ashamed of it, he rather likes the role

He loves to take care of people, he can command without coming off like a douche bag and people are more than happy to oblige

Plus he wants a big family so being an alpha makes it easier for him I guess

Omegas in heat do have to stay away from him though… he can’t help it… the issue being they practically throw themselves at him

Uzui Tengen

Alpha with three mated wives looking for a fourth

You’re on something if you don’t think this man is an alpha in every sense

Alpha Tengen is horny so don’t be shocked that he already has like five kids with more on the way LMFAO

That being said, Hina, Makio and Suma are obviously omegas

He’s a charmer, so along side Rengoku, people like to go to him for help and such

Kanroji Mitsuri

Alpha female

You thought I was gonna say omega, didn’t you?

Naw my girl is too damn strong (albeit emotional) to be classed as omega

Hell she was pretty shocked by it, so was everyone else. She’s so emotional they for sure thought she’d be an omega. Then again her appetite…

Luckily though the man she had her eyes on happens to be an omega

Iguro Obanai

Omega who genuinely would have offed himself if Mitsuri didn’t turn out to be an alpha

I don’t care what anyone says I totally see this man being an omega and completely and utterly embarrassed because of it

His only saving grace was Mitsuri being an alpha and tbh he finds it so unbelievably hot

While he is an omega he definitely isn’t a shrimpy little bitch and can fully handle himself

When it comes to Mitsuri though he’ll absolutely let her baby the fuck out of him and call him cute

Shinazugawa Sanemi

Omega bitch boy LMFAO

Stfu rn cause baby girl is 100% an omega and I have proof… sorta

My proof being that Gyomei said Sanemi was shy in the little “what the pillars think of each other” thingy

He’s the one that’s enraged about Giyu being an alpha, not even Obanai is that mad lmfao

Tbh it was too cliche to say he’s an alpha and honestly he just doesn’t feel like one to me

Himejima Gyomei

Beta surprisingly

He’s a gentle soul so it makes more sense that he’s a beta and not an alpha

He’s a beta that people still look towards for advice and protection

Similar to Shinobu, he’s chill with this cause he can go about living his life and not having to worry about ruts or heat lmfao

He’s not an overly horny man so…

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Text

Muse

Pairing: Artist!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky is thankful to have you as his muse. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Fluff, kissing, light insecurities if you squint, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes and he's in love (and he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Nix was kind enough to send me an old edit she made and I ran with it for @the-slumberparty 's Across the Universe challenge. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, but any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the lovely @sgt-seabass and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky Barnes hadn't expected to find solace in art when he was younger. It seemed more like a path that his best friend Steve would take, though both of them appreciated expressing themselves creatively. Life also taught him that his road came with unexpected bumps and turns. Trading guns for brushes and pencils after he left the army, art helped him process some of his emotions he long kept at bay. It showed him how to look at life from a different perspective. In some ways, it saved him.

Like you did.

"Mmm."

The moan you let out drew Bucky's gaze up from his sketchpad, smiling softly as you stretched your legs out under the sheets. As tempted as he was to rouse you with his tongue, he decided to let you sleep since he already woke you once in the middle of the night. It wouldn't be the first time he sketched you while you slept.

The pad in his hand was already filled with drawings of you, but one more wouldn't hurt. Over the hours and days spent with you, he studied and learned your body well. He had other sketches and paintings of you in various angles and lightning. Those would never be sold.

Some art that existed was for the artist alone.

The pencil began to move across the paper once more when you didn't stir. If you woke up and caught him drawing you again, you'd shake your head and tell him he had more than enough. He disagreed.

There was beauty in his surroundings, but they paled in comparison to you.

"Bucky," you whispered, sending a shiver of excitement down his spine. Like the color red, you speaking his name invoked deep, intense passion within him. He saw hues in brighter shades thanks to you. "Come back to bed."

"I'm almost finished," he promised.

"You drawing me again?" you mumbled, bringing your hand up to cover your yawn as he kept sketching. "You have enough and I'm a mess."

"Maybe. Maybe not," he teased with a tender smile when your eyes opened halfway. "And you're not a mess. You're beautiful."

And it’ll never be enough.

"Careful, James," you teased back, arching your back as you stretched. "Keep smiling and sweet talking and they'll take away your brooder card."

"We can't have that," he winked.

When Bucky decided to pursue art outside of a hobby, he hadn't meant to become a brooding recluse on purpose. He simply preferred solitude while he worked and he valued his privacy. While he was encouraged to promote his work on social media to help build more clientele, he never showed his face. He let his art speak for itself. It worked.

It was how he came to meet you.

Before he met you in person, you were his favorite customer. You bought multiple pieces and left the kindest comments on his page. He often went back to reread them when he got lost in his own head.

"While there are many beautiful pieces of art in the world, Bucky Barnes gives us work that defines, and defies, beauty. His art can move you to tears or give you hope of brighter days ahead. We're privileged that he chooses to share his vision with us and one can only hope to see the world as he sees it."

He may have moved you with his visuals, but you moved him with your words.

"I have to meet her," he told Steve when you commissioned a custom piece.

Steve couldn't believe it since Bucky hardly ever let anyone into his studio. He said it was the least he could do for someone who consistently showed him support. He wouldn't admit at the time how nervous he was to meet you. Or why he felt so compelled to see the person behind the name since he refused to look for you on social media.

He realized that day it was destiny to meet you.

The artist and the muse.

"Back to bed," you ordered, moving the sheets back as he set his pencil and pad down. He used the opportunity to gaze along your naked frame bathed in the soft light, lingering between your thighs. "Please, Bucky?

"Who am I to deny my muse?" he smirked, slowly standing from his stool to stretch. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and he had thrown his dark hair up in a bun to keep it out of his eyes. "Especially when you look at me like that."

I'm littered with scars and you gaze at me like I have no imperfections.

"Have you seen you? You're gorgeous," you said, patting the mattress for him to sit.

“Not as gorgeous as you.”

“Take the compliment, brooder,” you said with a sleepy grin.

When he took a seat with a chuckle, you stopped him before he could lay over you. Instead, you took his right hand and had him stay in place as began to gently massage it. You commented more than once about how long and thick his fingers were and how warm to the touch they were against your skin. Working at his hand in tiny circles, you carefully rubbed out any tension you sensed. While you focused on the task at hand, he took another minute to gaze at you in wonder.

My beautiful muse.

"There," you said, kissing his palm once you finished.

"Thank you," he said, resting the same hand over your heart.

He watched and felt your chest rise as you inhaled. The steady beat grounded him. He was lucky enough for you to let him paint you with his love.

Inside and out.

"Do you ever regret it?" he asked as he traced a small heart on your chest.

Your forehead scrunched as you looked at him. "Regret what?"

"Choosing me," he whispered.

You had a chance to live a life of luxury and you walked away from it for me. Do you regret following your heart when you could've had so much more with him?

You exhaled as you pushed yourself up to face him and placed your hands on both cheeks, making sure he was looking into your eyes. "I will never regret choosing you or being yours," you whispered back.

Bucky's eyes softened as he smoothed his left hand down your back and dropped a kiss to your mouth. He lost himself in the feel of your lips and tongue, an exchange of desire he only got to experience with you. He didn't live a life of glamor, but he would forever give you a life of love.

"Now use me as your canvas," you said as the kiss ended.

Like Bucky said, who was he to deny his muse?

I love Bucky in love. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #artist!bucky barnes #artist!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #navy and roo's sleepover #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #nix #nix edit #nixakimbo edit #nix akimbo edit

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patrophthia · 1 year

Text

cruel summer | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x reader

genre: fluff, song fic, love confessions (?), regulus is a attention seeking piece of shit (affectionate), clingy reg, not beta read

wc: 1.1k

this is request ! i’m sorry it took so long, i hope you liked it!!

tag: @tr4ppola

Your favourite pastime activity was lying. Little white lies, that is, lies that were so obvious that everyone knew not to take them seriously. Like saying you were a muggle whilst you cast a complicated spell, or saying that you had once dyed your hair a colour that you swore to never do, or saying that you were —in no ways, involved with Regulus Black whatsoever.

Sneaking around though, was on the other end of your favourite things to do. You like Regulus too much so you let that factor slide through.

It's as if you only ever see him during the quiet nights where no one could ever spot you. You know that that isn't how a normal relationship should function but the red flag tends to look white when you look at it through rose tinted glasses.

More often than not you feel like you earned him, a (semi) bad boy who was wanted by everyone in school. He was a shiny toy with a price and you know damn well you bought it.

The meeting spot is different this time, a room within a room in the room of requirement. He'd only told you to meet him at the room of requirement at ten and you showed up right on time only to be met with confusion.

In front of you were a set of doors, circling around you as you stood over stained glass rings, blue merged with pink then pink into purple where the centre of the room was. Instead of figuring out how to find him on your own, you call out to him, "Regulus?"

"Down here," he replies, you look down onto the glass pane and furrow your brows when he is nowhere to be found. "Stand at the centre, sweetheart."

You do as you were told, watching as the glass dips under your weight; you can hear the mechanics working, it unlocking steps for you to take. Once you finally meet Regulus, you cock your head to the side with a teasing smile. "An oddly complicated way for just a booty call."

Regulus frowns, "this isn't a booty call, ma chérie." He moves towards you, and you let him place his hands on your hips. "I just missed you."

You roll your eyes and Regulus thinks that while the devils may roll their dice, he was sure angels spend their time rolling their eyes at him and his behaviour. But then again, what doesn't kill him makes him want it more. And you were just that.

Opposite does attract after all.

"You shouldn't miss me so often," you fixed him a look. "My friends are starting to suspect where I go so often."

It's his turn for Regulus to roll his eyes, albeit more elegant and poise then you ever did. "This is your fault," he groans, burying his head in the crook of your neck. "We wouldn't have to be doing this if you just told everyone about us."

Regulus had decided to keep your relationship a secret at first, wanting to test the waters and after the first few months went smoothly. So smoothly that he'd found himself smitten with you. He wanted everyone to know, he knew that it was weird for him to claim you but he'd like people to know that he wasn't willing to share.

But you think a lot, way too much at times, and decided that no, you do not want people to know about the two of you. Because, you wanted him all to yourself, you liked him too much for other people to know.

"I'm sorry, my love," you say first, a hand reaching up to brush back his outgrown curls. "I promise it won't be for much longer."

Contrary to popular belief, Regulus Black was a clingy person, so touch starved and clingy that you pressed a kiss on the top of his head for good measure.

He stills for a moment, obviously planning something before he presses a kiss to your neck and pulls away. "Would you still love me tomorrow?"

"What?" You splutter, confused on why he decided to bring tomorrow up. "Of course, I do."

"Thank you, mon amour. I love you too." He says before asking. "My game's tomorrow, you're coming to see me right?"

"I always do," you tell him and he smiles. "Why are you asking me this?"

He makes a face. "Just trying to make sure my girlfriend won't run away before my plan unfolds."

Slytherin were losing, and the longer you watched Regulus not even trying to seek out the snitch the more you realised that he was throwing the game on purpose.

You stood up from your seat in the stands and found your way to the railings. "OI! BLACK!" You call out and he turns to you distractedly. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? THE SNITCH IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU."

He turns away, looking uninterested. "I can't see a thing, sorry."

You were starting to get annoyed now, confused on when Regulus had gotten this kind of attitude but you chopped it up to how being dramatic more often than not runs in the Black family.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" You yell, your voice loud despite the hundreds of others also yelling the same thing at him —albeit with a little more colourful words than you were using. "WHY AREN'T YOU PLAYING?"

"I want you to tell them," he says instead of answering your questions. You're a bit confused on how you can still hear him over the sound of support from the other where their Seeker was actually doing the job. "I want them to know."

"KNOW WHAT." You began to yell when it dawned on you. He wants you to tell everyone about your relationship. "ARE YOU CRAZY?"

He shrugs. "Do you want me to win?"

Knowing how pouty he could be if he didn't, you steel yourself for what's to come next. "REGULUS BLACK." You yell and you can see the other team's seeker dive towards the snitch. "I DON'T WANT TO KEEP SECRETS JUST TO KEEP YOU FOR MYSELF ANYMORE."

The crowd goes quiet, waiting to see the scene unfolding before them. Of course it was another Black brother hoarding the attention all to themself, creating a scene as they stole the spotlight from everyone else.

So you prepare yourself, screaming for what it's worth. "I LOVE YOU. AIN'T THAT THE WORST THING YOU HEARD DURING A GAME?"

The other team's seeker loses sight of the snitch, audibly gasping at your confession towards his rival. The snitch continues its way around the pitch.

"NOW PLAY THE DAMN GAME SO PEOPLE CAN KNOW HOW COOL MY BOYFRIEND IS."

The snitch finds it way a few feet above Regulus' head, you want to laugh at how this was playing out. The snitch was just invested in this as everyone else.

The snitch holds his spot and everyone watches with bated breath because, one, the game seems like it was nearing the end, and two (the much important reason they were watching) was that they wanted to see how Regulus would react.

His eyes look up from his broom and meets yours, it took him a few seconds before he broke away. Looking up, grinning like a devil at his now second prized possession (with the first being his chérie of course).

He reaches his hand up, easily snatching the snitch with a breath-taking grin. He clutched onto the snitch tightly, and a second wave of anxiety hit. What if he'd mistaken something else for the snitch amongst everything that had just happened?

Finally, Regulus unclasped his fist, letting the snitch hover above his palm. And as the game officially reaches its natural ending. The announcer's voice started up.

"It looks like Black has gotten the win this round," the announcer says first, their tone playful. "And would he be a black brother if he didn't get the girl as well?"

And then, since you had always been outgoing, so outgoing in fact, that everyone in the castle knew of you and your habits. So just to be sure, the announcer adds, “this isn’t one of your lies right?”

You can’t help but smile at that, Regulus had always found your smile infectious so, naturally, he found that it was useless to even try hiding his smile from you as he awaited your answer.

“Why would I lie to you about this?”

— from bee: i hope you liked this! and is what you’d imagine when you’d sent in the request! feed backs/reblog/notes are appreciated!! :]

#regulus is a cutie #regulus black x reader #regulus black x yn #regulus x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black fluff #regulus black imagines #regulus black x female reader #regulus black scenarios #regulus black humor #regulus headcanon #Spotify #🧳: my writing

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jagibee · 1 year

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Call Me Luna

(Stray Kids x Reader)

Chapter 1

1,222 Words

A/N: Hello, hello! I’m Mari and this is my first ever (published) skz fic. I wanted to publish the first chapter on the fifth anniversary so sorry if there are mistakes, feel free to tell me so that I can fix them! I am open to constructive criticism and all sorts of feedback! Use my ask box whenever you like!

This fic is OT8 x Reader but might lean towards Chan and Lee Know, sorry, not sorry😁

Here we go!

…

When Chan was told the company was integrating a new policy, he was wary to say the least. Especially when he found out it had to do with secondary gender dynamics. Their pack had a delicate balance and he was worried that a new addition, particularly one that wasn’t his choice, would screw it up.

He became more relaxed once he learned that they would give the band the freedom to look at application profiles and decide among themselves which caretaker they would have.

When he saw the huge stack of applications, he thought ‘at least there will be plenty of good options’. Unfortunately, that optimism didn’t last long.

When one of his members selected an applicant they liked, another would always look over and find something wrong with them. When Jisung found one, Jeongin said their scent made him queasy. When Changbin suggested one, Hyunjin accused him of doing it just because the applicant had said that they liked spending time at the gym. They had a small pile of maybes, but each one had at least one member who disliked them, and that wasn’t exactly ideal.

Each of the members had selected at least one profile they liked, even Minho, though he did say his was because the applicant was the winner of some cooking show. However, Chan hadn’t found a single applicant he liked. This person, this caretaker, needed to fit perfectly. He loved his members more than anything and if they were hiring someone to live with and look after them at all hours, every single day, for the foreseeable future, Chan was going to find someone everyone could agree on.

His own hope was dwindling alongside the ‘unread’ stack. Maybe it would be easier to just convince Jeongin that he could get used to new scents or tell Hyunjin that if Changbin was at the gym with the caretaker, he wouldn’t have to see either of them.

Then he came across your profile.

The first thing Chan noticed about you was your smile. It wasn’t some nice little ‘say cheese’ thing, but something true and genuine, like the photographer had just told you the funniest joke you ever heard, but you weren’t allowed to laugh. The way your smile stretched across your face made his own cheeks ache in sympathy pain.

Your profile said you had experience with all sorts of pack dynamics, which was good, given that their careers made them a rather unusual kind of pack. Also, your specialization in all types of secondary gender care stood out to Chan. Most omegan caretakers specialized in just omegas or occasionally just alphas, but the way you had completed training for alphas, omegas, and betas showed that you were truly dedicated. Also, with a pack of four alphas, two betas, and two omegas, having a good idea of how to treat everyone’s secondary gender was ideal.

Chan took out the bag with the tissue you had rubbed your scent on and brought it up to his nose.

Woah.

Your scent was a mix of floral and earthy, and it was strong without being overpowering. Chan instantly felt like he was being soothed.

He nudged Felix next to him and handed over the tissue. “Smell this,” he ordered.

Felix took it and tentatively raised it to smell. His nose twitched as he sniffed it and he let out a soft “oooooh” sound. He turned to Chan with a small grin. “I like it.”

Overhearing them, Jisung grabbed the tissue and took a deep breath. His eyes widened as he exclaimed, “Yah, this smell is so nice!”

Sitting across the makeshift circle, Changbin lunged across to grab for it but Hyunjin had been quicker. Before he had the chance to judge the scent, Changbin tackled him and landed them both in Seungmin’s lap.

Ignoring whines from the both of them, Changbin successfully snatched the tissue and took a big whiff. “Yoh,” he said, before wiggling cutely and switching to a high-pitched voice, “Binnie likes this!”

Hyunjin managed to take the tissue back then, bringing it so he and Seungmin could smell it at the same time.

“Oh, that’s nice!” Hyunjin exclaimed, exchanging a glance with Seungmin, who nodded along.

Chan felt something in his heart shift. That was over half of the pack’s approval. Then he reminded himself that they still needed the rest of the pack to like your scent and all of them had to review your actual application. Plus, Minho and I.N were the two most scent-oriented. Minho had the best sense of smell out of all of them, and as their most recently presented alpha, Innie was very sensitive about the scents he did and didn’t like.

Seungmin, still with a lapful of Changbin and Hyunjin, turned to Jeongin sitting next to him and gently held out the tissue. Instead of grabbing it and bringing it to his nose, he leaned forward to rest his face against Seungmin’s hand before he inhaled the tissue’s aroma.

Most of the pack members waited with bated breath for Innie’s verdict. Unlike the rest of them, he took his time in deciding whether he liked the scent or not. He tilted his head, making himself look particularly fox-like, before telling them, “I could get used to that.”

They all nodded, some exchanging small smiles, before everyone turned to Minho at the very end of their group. He rolled his eyes before holding his hand out in a grabby motion. “Yah, hand it over already.”

Seungmin, still clutching the tissue, passed it across Jeongin to Felix, who passed it back to Chan, who waved it in front of Minho’s face teasingly. Minho’s stern gaze just made Chan want to tease him more, but he could feel the slight tension in the air, so he stilled his hand. Minho grabbed the tissue and raised a single corner a couple inches in front of his face. He sniffed it, then brought it closer to press against his nose and inhale more deeply.

If this were any other time, Chan would be reveling in the silence but right now, he just wanted Minho to hurry up and say something.

Minho hummed slightly, one side of his lip twitching up before he nodded. “Yeah, I like that.”

Chan hummed in response, taking the tissue Minho held out and putting it back in the bag.

“This one’s profile is impressive too.” He told his members. “Anyone want to see?”

Seungmin grabbed the file while Hyunjin took the picture of you.

Tuning out Seungmin’s thoughtful comments and Hyunjin’s remarks on your beauty, Chan turned back to Minho, leaning in close.

“You know, you don’t have to say you like it just because everyone else does,” he said softly, sitting back into his normal posture.

Minho continued to stare straight ahead for a couple seconds before turning back to Chan, his gaze piercing. “I didn’t. I’m just not sure how that scent will mix in with ours.”

Chan could tell that this was about something deeper, but he knew Minho didn’t want to talk about it now, and he didn’t want to push him in front of everyone, so he just nodded and turned back to the other members.

He cleared his throat before slapping on a smile and asking loudly, “So! What does everyone think?”

557 notes · View notes

httpsserene · 7 months

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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟐 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. smut. wolf shifter au. werewolves. no abo dynamics. outdoor sex. scent kink. vaginal sex. fingering. possessive behavior. predator/prey kink. tummy bulge. breeding kink. knotting (but not really). mention of heat/rut cycles. no protection. carlos’ filthy mouth. author may have cooked a little too hard 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: peek-a-boo • red velvet

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: fair warning this is the most foul thing i’ve written ever. like, i thought the first upload was unsettling, but this is terrifying in comparison. i think i’m getting better tho, low key. no, this was not an excuse to write a breeding kink 😒. this was an excuse to spread my personal feeling that i think carlos sainz jr is a massive freak, and i will take no criticism on that 😩. but i do apologize for his foul ass mouth at the end. imma try and get these out quicker because i realized that if i’m releasing one fic every week, i will not be finishing this b4 the end of the month. there unfortunately will be no part two to this, it’s a standalone, i got so many things to write now, im sorry :( i hope you all enjoy it (i did an embarrassing amount of research for this aka twilight wiki), and thank you for all the support !!!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my beta readers @saintslewis and @my-ylenia ! i appreciate y'alls quick feedback :)

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

have the link to my general masterlist, and my f1 kinktober masterlist ! and send me a private message if you'd like to be added to the beta reader waitlist for this special!

carlos is not a werewolf. carlos is a born wolf; he comes from a long familial line of shifters. while he and his wolf share a brain, carlos is in control one-hundred percent of the time. he can shift into a wolf at will and maintains awareness as the wolf. however, during the full moon, it’s extremely difficult for shifters to resist the call and refrain from transforming. werewolves, on the other hand, are created by a curse or from being bitten. they are forced to change into a beast every full moon, thirsting for blood and carnage. their humanity isn’t present in the half-wolf/half-human form; being a werewolf is like a parasitic disease. carlos’ family has found their calling in bringing a sense of order to the wild, and during full moons, their purpose is to contain and redirect the beastly werewolves from harming humans.

shifters are rare, and carlos prefers it that way (he doesn’t ever want to find out what tension multiple shifters on the grid could cause). his nature doesn’t give him any unfair advantages in an f1 car, sure, his reaction time may be a little quicker, and he heals faster–but, nothing that would classify as “cheating.” if he did have any extreme advantages, maybe he’d end max’s world champion streak, but that is not the case; anything about his nature still couldn’t make up ferrari’s shortcomings.

the only downside to being a shifter is how they’re mistaken for werewolves (even though they are obviously two completely different beings). the world doesn’t know about the shifter population at large, it’s mainly an “if you know you know” society, and werewolves are known to the masses with how many slaughters they’ve been caught doing from the beginning of time. which is massively unfortunate for carlos. if he were to be revealed as a wolf shifter, he’d probably lose everything he knows–formula one, his privacy, his family, you–and he would probably be scheduled for a public execution if those were still in place. he’s only trusted a small circle of people within formula one with the secret of his wolf; lando, charles, fernando, jon and rupert, and vasseur. it’s made his life easier having people that are aware of his true nature, so he can shift comfortably during race weekends if needed, when you are not able to join him.

regardless of how the world views carlos’ supernatural state, you genuinely don’t understand how people could be terrified of him. carlos is ‘the dream man’™, and you’re not accepting any critiques on that matter. he’s a personal-sized space heater, so you don’t have to worry about being cold at night–and he doesn’t even complain when you stick your icicle-like toes and fingers on him. he cleans without being told to, he’s an excellent home chef, he takes you golfing with him and even lets you caddy for him, he’s protective but in a respectful manner, and he even partial shifts around you so you can play with his ears and give him a good little scratch.

the only downside you could point out about carlos, is that he takes his wolf form a little too seriously.

carlos was raised to train his inner wolf into a controlled, unfazed, unshaken, apex-predator being. the wolf has one purpose and it’s to guard his territory, the people he loves, and to prevent any werewolf murder sprees. but, you wish he’d allow himself to relax, and have a little more fun in his wolf form.

you’ve started training him, funnily enough, to allow his wolf to be off the clock sometimes. subconsciously, in the comfort of the spanish villa you two call home, he’s started to allow his ears to pop out whenever he’s relaxed enough. the spaced out and confused faces and noises he makes, with his head and ears flicking and tilting to match, invokes an unhealthy sense of cute-aggression from you. sometimes, you manage to persuade him enough to shift to his full wolf form, and that’s where you find the most difficulty of calming his behavior.

he’ll go around sniffing and rubbing his body along all of the walls and corners of the house to spread his claim, and even refuses to nap or sleep with you while he is shifted. he’d sit in the doorway of the room you were in and remain in an alert state to protect you from whatever dangers that may appear, even though he’s already sure none are present. there was one time you were able to convince him to lay with you under the guise of you being cold; he allowed himself to curl around you and rest his snout on your chest, but the way his ears remained cocked let you know that he was wide awake even though his eyes were shut.

he’s thoroughly unamused whenever you try and get him to play with dog toys. it doesn’t matter if it squeaks, crinkles, or smells–he wants nothing to do with them. he can’t say no to an old-fashioned game of fetch, though. whenever you grab a stick from outside, you hear his thundering paws running towards you before skidding to a rapid stop, his haunches firmly touching the ground while his front paws anxiously tip tap in front of him, and his whole body shakes with anticipation for your throw. and from there you started to get him to appreciate tennis balls and frisbees in fetch games. even though his massive jaw and teeth have you ordering replacements way too often.

and the thought of his massive ears, eyes, hands, and teeth—led you to your halloween costume idea.

little red riding hood.

it makes the most perfect amount of sense. carlos can be the big bad wolf to your red riding hood! except he refused, stating that it would be shameful to use his wolf in such a manner. of course, you're disappointed at his refusal, but you respect his boundaries at the end of the day. so, you were just going to have piñon (your dog) be your big bad wolf. and then, that fell through as well.

piñon was staying over at carlos’ parents house a few days before halloween, and ended up losing a battle to a mouse that he tried to catch through a fence. the fence scratched him a little deeply on his tummy and he ended up getting stitches and a cone of shame. while his stitches are in, he’s staying with reyes and carlos sr.–and, you’re back to square one; you’re ‘big bad wolf’-less-ness.

you don’t attempt to try and convince carlos to join you again, you just decide to keep your original costume and sit out on the porch handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, missing the other half to your costume. it’s very simple attire, just the red-hooded cloak and a picnic basket full of candy. carlos peeks from the front window’s curtains and watches you smile sweetly at all the children and compliment them on their costumes. he hears you fein terror when kids dressed as werewolves ask for candy, he hears you fawn over the cutest kids and their costumes, and he hears your happiness falter when anyone asks where your ‘big bad wolf’ is.

you’re in the middle of explaining how piñon wasn’t feeling well to a little girl, and you hear a muffled bark. your head perks up in question, thinking you just imagined it, but then you hear scratches on the door. confused, you go to open the door and carlos comes slinking out to join you on the porch.

his wolf is massive, when standing on four paws his head nearly reaches your chest, his coat is a silky coloration of a brown so dark it appears black, but in direct sunlight it radiates warmth. his paws are larger than your face and the claws he’s got on them are big enough to match. the little girl shrieks and hides behind her dad’s legs, and the dad backs them up off the porch frantically.

“no, no, no,” you reassure them, and carlos tries to shrink his body behind your legs, whining lowly, “he’s friendly! i promise he’s a sweetheart, he’s actually pretty shy!” carlos skimpers behind you, quickly managing to shove himself under the outdoor couch, only allowing his head to peek out from underneath. the dad doesn’t quite believe you, and just apologizes and just ushers his daughter to the next house.

you sigh, and plop down a little forcefully on the couch. you hear carlos crawl from underneath the seat, and rise to a sitting position at your side, resting his snout on your lap. you look down and purse your lips at his wide, apologetic brown wolf eyes and raise your hand to give him a few pets. you question softly, “are you going to join me for the whole night?”

carlos blinks at you once. an eager grin spreads across your lips, “yay! aren’t you just such a good boy,” you tease sarcastically. carlos huffs, the force of his exhale swooshing your cloak, before he turns his back to you in dismissal. you laugh at him, and the next group of kids run up yelling for candy, and carlos tries to appear as small as he can so he doesn’t scare these ones away.

after the initial scare carlos caused, everyone seems fascinated at your “wolf-dog,” and how well mannered and amicable he is. carlos lets all the kids who are brave enough pet him, not snapping once even if they accidentally tug at his tail or ears, and sits incredibly still so he has no chance of accidentally crushing them. several dads even pause to give him a sturdy little dad-pat on his side, and inform you of how “that’s a good guard dog you got there, he takes a pat like no problem.” you even impress a few of the moms with how well trained you have him, and how he listens to all of your commands and can do many tricks (so far, the most impressive trick is having him harmonize to your voice with a howl). carlos preens silently next to you whenever little kids can’t help themselves from telling you how pretty you are (his tail thumping on the floor the only giveaway), and seethes when overzealous men and women try and hit on you (growls rumbling out of his chest). you brush off their advances and charmingly tell them, “i don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me cheating on him…especially in front of his dog,” with a disguised smirk. overall, carlos does so well cosplaying as your big bad wolf, that you decide to give him the present you planned all along.

after the halloween celebrations die down, you and carlos return inside, and you lead the way up to the bedroom as he trots behind you. carlos shifts back into his naked human form, and you giggle and pull him into a hug.

“thank you, my love! everyone loved you tonight–you know you didn’t have to join me outside, right? i didn’t want you to feel pressured to do something you were–” carlos cuts you off with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dismisses your worry, “mi luna, i wouldn’t have gone out there if i did not want to, sí? i am happy i could make the night more fun for you, by playing your “big bad wolf.’”

you pull away with a small ‘aha!’ of remembrance and rush into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind you. carlos stares at the space you were just occupying and shrugs, figuring you have to pee really badly–considering you were sitting on the porch the whole night without a break– and that you’re probably changing out of the costume, before turning to the closet and pulling on clothes.

he hears the toilet flush, and then the water runs for a minute too long–almost like you’re covering up any noises carlos may hear with his enhanced hearing, but he doesn’t think that you’d have anything to hide from him, anyways. you fling the door open excitedly, still in your riding hood, and pull carlos away from the closet and start dragging him downstairs.

“ay–” carlos objects, “i don’t have a shirt on yet, mi amor! where are you rushing too?”

you don’t respond verbally, only glancing back at him with a cheeky smirk, and continue to lead him to the backyard. you drop carlos hand once you’ve stepped outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind you two. walking back to him, you stand in front of him–pausing as you stare into the warm depth of his brown eyes, before you take one step backwards. carlos automatically goes to parrot your movement, attempting to take one step towards you to eliminate the space, but you ‘aht-aht’ at him disapprovingly causing him to freeze. you press your hand against his chest near his clavicle and guide him to his original position. patting once with intention, you order, “stay.”

carlos’ eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. he allows you to back away from him, twitching towards you when your bare feet slip off the paved patio onto the grass. you come to a stop when you’re halfway into the yard.

carlos calls out to you, confused, “amor? what’s this, i do not want to play fetch right now–”

“we’re not going to play fetch carlos,” you start, “we’re going to play a new game called chase.” carlos does his adorable head tilt at you, continuing to question your actions, “qué? i don’t know the game you are talking about, mi luna–wh-what-qué haces (what are you doing)?”

you unbutton the collar of the cloak, and spread the front open, from where you wrapped it tightly around your body, and reveal a matching set of the scantiest, laciest, and most mouthwatering red bra and panties. carlos is stunned to silence, mouth dropping open as his eyes fall to your exposed body. the way your smooth melanated skin is complimented by the rosso corsa-colored lingerie, the way you’re holding open the cloak to allow him to get his fill of your body, the way your hips seductively rock from one side to the other, the way the smell of your arousal begins to become apparent to his sensitive nose–before you abruptly wrap the cloak shut, tying the waistband tightly and shattering the moment.

“we are going to play a game called ‘chase’, carlito. where i run into the woods behind us, and you…chase me.”

carlos’ entranced state is shaken by his protective instincts, “qué? no, no! absolutely not. the woods are dangerous, mi amor–”

“carlosss,” you whine, “you patrol the woods every other week! you know there’s nothing that could hurt me out here, because you’ve already gotten rid of it. you’re going to give chase and you’re going to like it!”

carlos shifts anxiously, not fully persuaded, so you decide to not give him a choice, “ten minutes, love. after that, come catch me.” you turn and run into the densely packed woods, ignoring carlos’ exclamation for you to stop. he doesn’t suddenly appear and stop your disappearance into the forest, so that’s how you know the game is on.

your chest is already heaving from adrenaline and excitement as you run through the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. you pant and the nerves start to set in, not out of fear of what’s in the forest, but fear of giving carlos an easy chase. you stop suddenly and take a sharp turn, running for a minute that way before you circle back and run at a slight diagonal in the opposite direction, overlaying your scent to try and give some added time to your pursuit. running deeper into the woods, it begins to get darker, the only light source are the scraps of moonlight that manage to find a pocket to slip through. your eyes adjust to the reduced light level, pupils blown wide not only in necessity but also arousal, and you come to a halt again. you quickly slip off your red panties and hang them on the nearest branch, hoping that the wetness that’s already seeped into them distracts him from your true location.

you start to traverse your way through an uphill part of the forest, exhaustion finally beginning to become apparent after that first rush of adrenaline–but then, a familiar howl cuts through the air; your time is up, and carlos is loose in the forest, hunting after you. reinvigorated, you continue running deeper and deeper into the trees, changing directions multiple times losing track of exactly where you’re going.

the wolf fucking losing it. you–his luna, his mate–are out in the forest he protects—his territory—inciting him into a relieving game of chase, allowing him to be just as uncontrolled as he wants in his pursuit of you. he’s quick to catch on your trail, seeing the way you’re rushed heavy steps in the start leaves an easy path for him to follow. and then, he notices you employed different tactics to delay him. he catches himself running in circles you intentionally plotted, and notices how your scent and foot-trail overlaps multiple times. and then, he can tell you switched from running with the full bottom of your foot and just on your toes for a moment to disrupt your trail. his breaths have started to mirror yours, forceful with the adrenaline from a good chase, and he freezes. he smells you.

he speeds up to a full run, paws thundering against the earth under him, loud and uncaring if you hear him coming or not, before he bursts through the trees where your scent is the strongest. but, you’re not there. the wolf whines disbelievingly, bringing his nose to the floor to analyze your scent trail before a glimpse of red catches his attention from the corner of his eye. he spins around swiftly, expecting it to be the swish of your cloak as you run from, but it’s not you.

it’s the damn red panties you kindly left behind for him.

he rocks up on his hind legs to knock it off the branch to the ground, and presses his muzzle to the barely there fabric, inhaling your arousal deeply. an unhinged growl tumbles his way out of his chest, before it morphs into another full howl, letting you know how much he appreciates your present. carlos won’t be fooled by any more of your tricks again, and he takes off running.

you’ve taken a brief break from running, leaning forward with your hand against your knees as you catch your breath. it’s loud around you; bugs are buzzing and you can hear the hoots of several owls echoing through the forest. suddenly, it goes completely silent, quicker than a drop of a pin. you slam your mouth shut, quieting your inhales, and you slowly shift your stance into a running position, trying to use your hearing to tell what direction the wolf is coming from. you hear the rustle of a tree on your right, and you make to leap away into a run–but it’s too late.

you’re caught, large hands around your waist and a leg sweeps your own out from underneath you and takes you to the ground. a scream of surprise escapes from your chest but is cut off with a heavy hand laying over your mouth.

carlos is looming over you, kneeled in between your legs, bare as the day he was born, chest heaving, and pupils wide from the thrill and pleasure of a successful hunt. “caught you. i could hear your little heart racing in your chest.” he boasts.

carlos removes his hand only to replace it with his lips, and the passion he bathes your lips with fragments your mind. you can only part your lips and let him ruin you as he pleases. his plump lips suckle on yours before his tongue begins an eager exploration of your mouth–a desperate moan falls from his lips into yours. one of his hands comes to grasp at the curls on your head, tilting you for a better angle; and you raise one of yours to grasp at his shoulder for stability, but carlos startles away. an animalistic growl rumbles through his chest in dissent, and he grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, and pins them above your head.

you’re at a loss for words, unsure if you want to moan or plead to suck his dick, but carlos doesn’t give you a chance to decide.

he allows himself one last soul-sucking kiss, before he presses nips into your cheeks and jaw, leading towards your neck. carlos buries his nose deeply into the spot where your jaw meets your neck, and takes an excessive inhale of your scent. dios mio. the way you smell. delectable and rich soaked with lust and the dregs of fear still clinging in the surroundings. he gets to smell this for the rest of his life. another growl erupts possessively, and you can only moan depravedly at the sound.

carlos continues to lavish kisses on his way down your body, bruising them into your skin before soothing over with a pass of his tongue. the hand in your hair releases, coming down to allow him to grasp at your chest, brushing over your nipples in a quick motion; the lace scrapes against them and the feeling is paralyzing. he tugs the rossi corsa bra underneath your breasts, and they spill out over the top in a manner so obscene it forces another moan out of carlos. he ducks his head again, to tease at your nipples with his tongue, alternating between flicking and sucking at them randomly. he ignores your hips are rolling up, attempting to get some friction, and your hands in his wrists flexing and tugging to escape.

he frees your nipples from the assault of his lips, and starts sucking hickeys into your underboob with a pleased hum. the change in sensation and slight ache, has another scream bursting from your chest, it’s too much.

“c-c-carlos, c’mon! please, please—oh!” cutting yourself off with a gasp, as carlos abruptly pulls away, his large hand releasing your wrists, to scooch down and bully your legs open with a free hand and shoves his broad tanned shoulders between your thighs.

you’re dripping everywhere. the tops of your inner thighs are smeared with stickiness and you’ve created a wet spot on the cloak underneath you. a growl fully spills from carlos’ chest, shaking the air around you and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. he is an apex predator, you should at least be slightly terrified, but all you do is moan in response, more arousal leaking from you, and you start begging.

“carlos!p-please touch me! lobo mió—please, dont you wanna taste me? i want you to eat me,” you sob, “eat me out! you h-h-hunted me, take what you want!”

carlos laughs sharply at your obscenity, “oh? mi luna, you’re so bad, aren’t you? you should be scared of having my teeth so close to your pretty pussy, but here you are: begging, leaking, and your little hole winking and clenching at me, sí?”

you quickly agree, “yesyesyes, for you, for you, always. please carlos,” one of your hands flies down to grip at his hair and try and tug his mouth onto you. carlos snaps his teeth at you, and you quickly pull your hand away from his head, leaving it hovering in the air.

carlos growls, “don’t rush me, mi luna, i always take care of you, no?” you hum in agreement, both of your hands falling to your sides and gripping the grass next to you in anticipation.

carlos dips his head and swipes his tongue gently at your left inner thigh, and groans deeply. it’s your scent liquified; he licks his lips and smacks his mouth, savoring your slick. after that one sample he can’t help himself, he loses himself and makes it his personal mission to clean up every last drop of you that spilled. carlos’ mouth is sloppy, and he’s uncaring of how your thighs begin to shake in oversensitivity from the way his beard is scratching your thighs up, red lines appearing faintly on your brown skin. you start squirming away from his mouth, and carlos huffs, annoyed.

his hands switch to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he pushes them upwards near your chest, and commands, “stop moving, mi amor, or i’ll stop completely.” you moan a soft breathy okay, and your moan pitches into a sharp gasp. carlos runs his nose up your cunt parting the lips, more wetness spreading, before he pauses at your clit; and deeply inhales your scent from where it’s the richest. you cry, half bewildered and half humiliated, at your boyfriend eagerly sniffing at your warmth.

carlos rumbles out, “mierda, mi luna. mmm, so sweet—i cannot wait. i have to get in you, sí?” carlos doesn’t wait for a response and presses two fingers inside you. a cry escapes you at the sudden stretch, but your scent doesn’t sour with pain—carlos continues. he rushes through stretching you; his fingers scissoring you open methodically, consciously avoiding your g-spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt, has tears gathering in your eyes in embarrassment, even though it’s fairly clear that carlos enjoys it.

his fingers slide out a minute later, and that same hand reaches for his dick to begin spreading your wetness over it. carlos hisses, and with a clenched jaw, he asks, “mi amor—estas lista (are you ready)?” his body is now vibrating with the force he’s holding himself back with, waiting for your approval.

your hands release the earth, blades of grass you ripped out of the ground falling from between your fingers, and motion carlos to come closer and lean over you, dwarfing your body completely, “yeah, lobo mio, fuck me.”

carlos whimpers, head falling to rest in your neck. his hand grasps tighter at the underside of your left thigh—a bruise forming already—and pushes it firmly to your chest, your right leg bends slightly and you press your knee to his hip, urging him forward.

carlos guides the head of his cock with a trembling hand to your cunt, and gently presses in. you sharply inhale, holding your breath, until the head pops in fully, causing both you and carlos to moan in pleasure. carlos continues sinking deeper within you as controlled and slowly as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort. however, you’re completely gone already. eyes shut in bliss, mouth open, drool already leaking from the corner of your lips. carlos lifts his head to read your expression, and smirks, you’re so easy for him.

he bottoms out, feeling how your walls squeeze him tightly, and flutter in desperation, like they can’t quite accommodate to his size. carlos waits patiently, chest heaving again from the strain of not taking you, and watches how you squirm underneath him, not knowing if you want to squirm away or closer. you adjust to his presence a handful of seconds later, and grind your hips up to feel the delicious drag of his dick inside of you. carlos’ eyes widen and a shocked groan escapes him before he rolls his own hips down to meet you.

carlos sets a quick pace from the beginning, he can’t be bothered with building up his speed slowly—he has a claim to lay on you; and to any other being in this forest who can smell how alluring you are, you’re his mate.

moans are being punched out of your chest with every one of his thrusts, harmonizing with his matching grunts of effort. your back is sliding against the grassy floor, and your shoved up with every one of his deep thrusts, and you sink your nails into his back in pleasure, and carlos growls into your ear at the feeling.

you manage to find words to praise your wolf, “s-so deep in me, carlos—yeahyeahyeah, deeper, baby, please—ah! faster, carlos, faster—“ and carlos does his best to fulfill your wishes; his mouth rests right next to your ear; his panting breaths, and moans only making you squeeze around him tighter.

he soon tires of your orders; he’s not doing his best if he hasn’t fucked the words out of you. carlos suddenly pulls out of you, and you cry out angrily with a furrowed brow, “no, carlos! don’t stop, what are you—“ and with a rough commanding tone, he interrupts you, “stop whining.” your mouth slams shut, the sound of your teeth clacking together mortifyingly loud, your eyes wide with shock.

carlos softens, patting at your hip gently to reassure you that he’s not angry. he then flips you over (cloak spread on the ground underneath you), up on your elbows and knees, and makes to mount you properly—like the wolf he really is. the air is thick, and with your back turned to him in such a vulnerable manner, adrenaline rushes through you again. carlos laughs down demeaningly at you, as your scent thickens even more with lust and smidge of fear.

rattled at his amusement, you try to push up onto your hands and knees, but carlos automatically pushes you back down, with a heavy, hot and veiny hand scruffing you at the base of your neck. you moan out highly, as carlos forces you back down to your elbows. he releases your neck and smooths his hand down to the small of your back to deepen your arch just the way he wants, and to pull your hips up to match.

all he says is, “now, you stay, just like that—and be a pretty hole for me.”

carlos bullies his dick back inside you, and doesn’t allow you any time to adjust in the this new position. he roughly pounds into you, now only caring about getting his release—he’ll make you cum after he’s thoroughly enjoyed his prize for hunting you down.

carlos’ grunts are animalistic, and his thrusts are too fast for you to try and buck back against him to match his rhythm; all you can do is sit pretty and take what he gives you—just like he said. you can only ramble out four words in between your moans; ‘carlos,’ ‘full,’ and ‘too deep.’ carlos rumbles approvingly at your chanting this time around, and pulls your hips back even closer to dig as deep as he can, uncaring of how you're trying to run from his thrusts.

your start babbling at the constant pressure and drag against your g-spot, he’s so deep, in this position, hitting areas he can only reach and causes your legs to give out. carlos’ hips don’t falter, as he catches you pulling you back up with a hand around your navel. and then his hips stutter in shock with a crude moan. he grabs one of your hands, causing you to fall flat on your face, head turned to the side with your cheek pressed to the cool red cloak—and guides it to your stomach and holds it there.

carlos resumes thrusting, and preens, “mmm, can you feel that, mi amor? i’m fucking you so deep—ah—you can feel it through your skin.” you can feel it, and the pressure from carlos pressing your hand on his own dick from outside of your body, has your eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face. your legs go limp again, but carlos isn’t fazed; he continues to hold your body up for you. “so good for me,” carlos rambles, “mio luna—my mate.”

abruptly, you feel it. the press of his knot against you, and in a sudden moment of clarity, you start to beg.

“—los! kn-knot, please! ‘arlos, breed—ahahah—breed me deep and full—oh!”

carlos gnashes his teeth, growling savagely, before he leans down and forcefully bites down at the back of your neck—not enough to break skin, but enough to remind you of his teeth for a few days. you shudder, air stolen from your lungs, and you have no choice but to cum.

carlos feels the way your pussy flutters around him, failing to push him out with your release flooding your thighs, and how it continues to drag him deeper within you in a hypnotizing motion to milk him dry. carlos struggles to thrust once, twice, thrice more times with how tightly your cunt is gripping him and shoves his cock as deep in you as possible without allowing his knot to slip in, filling you up nice and good—breeding you just like you wanted.

carlos rocks you two both through the aftershocks, ensuring his cum coats your insides thoroughly, only slowing to a stop when your combined release starts frothing at where the two of you are joined, and your hips start squirming away from him. he guides you back, sitting you on his lap, keeping himself inside you, as he rotates you to face him.

your makeup is ruined. mascara and eyeliner staining your cheeks with the tracks of your tears, red lipstick smudged on your brown skin, eyes wide and still glassy with moisture. carlos swipes his thumb around your lips, fading the smudges as best as he can.

you smile softly, and ask with a light tone, “wasn’t that fun, mi lobo?”

carlos can only laugh softly, and nod, “yes—i did not know that you would enjoy being bred on the forest floor that much.”

your cheeks flush again after they began to cool, and you smack carlos shoulder in embarrassment. your brow furrows, and your mouth drops into a pout, “why didn’t you knot me?”

carlos raises an eyebrow at you teasingly, “ah, sí! you were begging for it like whore—“

“carlos!”

“i’m joking, i’m joking, mi luna! of course you were begging, more like a slut for my knot than a bitch in h—“

“dios mio, carlos! your fucking mouth after you cum—jesus christ!”

he can only laugh harder, extra pleased at how he gets you to fluster so easily, even after he just railed you in the middle of the forest.

“ay, mi amor—i’ll stop, im sorry,” he starts still grinning cockily, “pero, i did not give you the knot you begged for so sweetly, because my rut is in three days, sí? and i can’t afford to bruise your pretty pussy with my hefty knot before then, no?”

you balk. carlos’s semi-annual rut is a force of its own, you're practically out of commission for a week after it, unable to close your legs from how raw it leaves you. his knot bruises your insides every time you take it, so he definitely made the smart decision by not folding to your cries of desperation.

the scent of the two of you's satisfaction permeates the air, intertwining with the smell of sex, and carlos can only lean forward to mouth at your neck to taste how well he took care of you tonight.

“mmm,” carlos hums, “now—do you want me to carry you back to our den so i can finally get my mouth on you and clean you up, or do you want me to make another mess of you right here, mi luna?”

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez

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moonlight-prose · 9 months

Note

finding excuses to be alone with each other with miguel??

ME VUELVES LOCA

a/n: my first ever miggy fic!!! babes i am so fucking excited to be writing for this man. our dms are literally just filled with thoughts about him and that gave me so much inspo to write this. i've tried to get his voice down, but honestly i don't think i nailed it quite yet. still i hope you enjoy! (the title is named after such a beautiful song by lupita infante. i definitely recommend her music.)

note: thank you to @sunflowersteves for beta reading and easing my mind that this sounds like miggy. you're lovely darling.🖤

summary: "for weeks you’d been playing this cat and mouse game. trying to put off the attraction you felt in the hopes that this would dissolve into friendship once more."

word count: 0.9k+

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader

warnings: not explicit, tad bit of angst (because it's me), fluff, the beginnings of love, soft miggy.

If there’s one thing you can say for certain it’s this: finding a lick of privacy in the otherwise crowded Spider Society was near impossible. In fact it had surpassed being in the realm of near impossible to never achievable. Wherever you turned there was a Spider in need of help. Asking for the one person who always managed to get dragged away from your secretive plans.

Miguel wasn’t one to push off someone’s request for help. Yet the many inconveniences that pulled him away from you seemed to only drive him towards one solution. Doing what he could to steal away every moment that he had with you. He wasn’t oblivious—he knew people could see the way you looked at each other. Yet asking him the truth was never an option, and you were always swift in an escape plan whenever the question arose.

He didn’t mind you evading the truth. Given that he wasn’t one to be entirely open with everyone—he found you keeping whatever you had private admirable. Hell he even encouraged it.

Except for today that is.

“Miguel I know it’s a lot to ask but—” He felt his back stiffen at the sound of Peter’s voice behind him; the expectation of a request not far behind.

You had sent him a message asking him to meet you in an empty office twenty minutes ago, and he was adamant on making it there on time. But that possibility seemed to drift farther and farther away the longer he stood here. Peter’s cheery expression only soured Miguel’s. He had half a mind to make up something and escape, but the urge to help continued to gnaw at him.

“What?” he asked, attempting to keep his voice calm—steady.

“This mission is kind of well a little harder than most. Not that it’s impossible. I mean nothing’s impossible. But I was wondering if you—”

A message from Lyla let him know that you were indeed five minutes away from being stood up yet again. Something weighed heavy in his chest, a feeling he was used to harboring when it came to you. And he hated it. Shutting his eyes briefly he staved off the annoyance that built the longer Peter yammered on about the difficulty of one mission. If it were any other time, if you weren’t waiting patiently for him to show up, then he’d have agreed.

But that wasn’t the case.

“Dios mío,” he muttered, finally turning around. “Peter you’re capable right?”

The man froze. “I mean…yeah I’d say I was.”

“Then you don’t need me.”

“Yeah but Miguel—”

“I’ve got another mission to handle.” The excuse flowed with ease off his tongue. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done this—having made up every excuse in the book just to steal away time with you. He was certain you had done the same, knowing you were meant to be helping Gwen with something in the labs.

Peter seemed to catch onto the urgency of Miguel’s tone, but not in the way he hoped. A sly smile spread across his lips as he leaned in to nudge Miguel on the shoulder. If there ever was a moment to grasp onto any level of peace in his body—now was it. He was halfway to throwing Peter out of his office.

“I get you,” he said, backing away with his hands up. “The mission is much more important.”

“Get out.”

Peter was gone before Miguel could finish the word out—finally giving him the peace and satisfaction he desired. Instructing Lyla to close up everything behind him, he made his way towards the empty office—hoping you were actually still there. He couldn’t exactly blame you if you weren’t. It was rough finding ways to meet up, away from everything and everyone here.

Finding excuses seemed to be your way to go about things.

The door was shut and locked by the time he reached it, but that was easy enough to bypass. Given that you were most likely resting on the inside he figured it would be better to slip in silently. Sure enough he found you settled in a chair, your eyes opening to see him shutting the door softly behind him, a grin on his lips.

“I’m a mission huh?” you mumbled, standing and stretching with a groan.

He snorted, his eyes falling to the way you bent—watching you step closer. “Didn’t have anything else to say.”

“I suppose I could be a mission.”

“Yeah? And what was your excuse?”

You shrugged, leaning against the desk with a grin. “I told Gwen I was needed for repairs.”

“On what?”

Crossing your legs, you watched him take a step. “Don’t think it matters? She wouldn’t have believed me anyways.”

For weeks you’d been playing this cat and mouse game. Trying to put off the attraction you felt in the hopes that this would dissolve into friendship once more. But you could see it in Miguel’s eyes that he wasn’t interested in friendship. Hell he wasn’t even interested in taking things slow. Neither were you it seemed.

“I guess they know,” he muttered, his thighs pressing against your knees.

You smiled, reaching up to trace the Spider insignia across his chest. “Guess they do.”

“What now?”

Pulling him closer, you tried to keep yourself calm when he willingly fell into your hold, his body hunching down to meet yours. “We figure it out later,” you whispered, your nose barely brushing his. He grinned the sharp point of his fangs poking through. “Good.”

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fic #across the spiderverse #my writing #in love with love weekend🌷

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oddinary4bts · 1 year

Text

The Forgotten Spaces | ch 9 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in previous/later chapters)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: ending of that lil bit of miscommunication in ch 8, a very heartfelt conversation, probably some curses

☆word count: 7k

☆series masterpost here

☆a/n: Finallyyyyy, the angst is ending my friends. I hope you'll enjoy it <3 and also thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Tuesday, September 25th

You wake up slowly at first. Like a feather, softly falling, unbothered by the weight of the universe. It’s calm, like a forest in the winter when it’s snowing. It’s peace personified, like the world never held any wars or pain.

Then you wake all at once, like you’re struck by lightning, energized by it, electricity coursing through your blood. You feel his presence before you see him, and you think you’d be mad at him for lying next to you.

But when your eyelids flutter open to the sight of his purple room, all that fills you is peace again.

It grows tenfold when you turn and see him lying next to you, on his belly, hand reaching towards you. His mouth is slightly open, and he’s lying on top of the covers.

Which means he never meant to fall asleep next to you.

You haven’t realized how long his hair has grown before. Because right now it’s falling in front of his eyes, and you want to brush it behind his ear. It’s a visceral need, and the peace grows once more.

It grows and grows, and you reach and push his hair back, softly. Fingertips grazing his cheek, staying there as if they’ve found a home. He closes his mouth in his sleep and sighs, but he doesn’t wake up. He returns to his soft snoring a second later, and you just run your fingers along his cheekbone, tracing the planes of his face ever so softly.

But tomorrow has come, or is coming soon. And the peace grows again, until it bursts.

Until it bursts and aches, choking you up. Your hand rests heavier on his cheek as tears blur your vision, and the explosion of peace crushes your heart, until a sob finds its way up.

You choke on the sob, and quickly sit to move away from Jungkook. In this moment, all you can think is that he’s hers. Your brain produces the words like a litany in your mind, and you think it’s making you crazy.

You were crazy to come here in the first place. To think you deserved a spot at Jungkook’s side.

You grab your phone, and see that it’s the middle of the night. You don’t care one bit, and you call Jisung. Not Jiho, because Jiho doesn’t know how to drive, and she also has a midterm tomorrow morning.

Jisung doesn’t pick up, and you choke on another sob as you call again. This time, the call goes on voicemail quicker than it’s supposed to, and you receive a text a second later.

[4:46 am] Sungie: you better have a good reason for waking me up in the middle of the night🙄 [4:46 am] Sungie: what’s up? [4:47 am] You: can u come pick me up? [4:47 am] Sungie: what’s wrong [4:48 am] You: it’s complicated. mom kicked me out, and i’m at jk’s place [4:48 am] Sungie: wtf? [4:48 am] Sungie: i don’t wanna go outside😭 and i’ll kill your mom, but what’s new. [4:49 am] Sungie: omw

You sigh a breath of relief, but it breaks on your lips and you cry out, as the tears and the pain win once again, as they’ve been winning all evening.

You get up, you take a few steps, you stumble on something and catch yourself on the wall. You feel like you’re going to be sick, you’re tired, exhausted, and you wish for your bed.

But you don’t have a home anymore, do you?

Jungkook says your name. He says your name like you’re a prayer, and you break some more, refusing to even turn to look at him. You just stumble to your bags, pick them up and try to reach for the door.

Jungkook stops you with a gentle hand on your wrist.

He repeats your name, and you refuse to look at him. This time, when he tries to pull you in, you resist. You don’t want him to touch you, you don’t want him to hold you when you know it’s all just a lie. When you know tomorrow will come and he’ll be gone.

He’s forgotten you. He’s forgotten you too, he’s forgotten the pain he brings. And you think, if the world was ending, would he stand on the threshold of your memories together with you? Because you think you got lost in the memories, you forgot memories come and go.

“Let me go,” you beg, weakly, because you’re weak. Like you’ve been sick, and you think you might be. Maybe your broken heart festered inside of you, releasing toxins into your bloodstream until it rendered you sick.

“Please tell me what’s wrong,” he says in an equally weak voice, but he does let go of you.

You scoff, and you don’t say anything before turning the doorknob and opening the door.

“I’m sorry that I fell asleep next to you,” Jungkook says, and he sounds like he’s panicking. Like he doesn’t want you to slip through his fingers. But the tighter he holds you, the more you slip. You’re like sand: immortal in the way you’ll always slip through his fingers, like he’ll always slip through yours.

“It’s not that.” You drop one of the bags, because your wrist hurts almost equally as your heart. “Jungkook, you have a girlfriend, we shouldn’t be together.”

You eye your bag, deciding that it’s not worth trying to pick it up. You’ll ask Jo to bring it to you wherever you’ll find a home for the next few days. You’re walking away, striding away, running away.

You’re fleeing like he fled that night he told you about her. Part of you wishes you could rush to your mother’s side, could show her your broken heart and beg her for the love she is supposed to give you. Unfortunately, her maternal affection ran low far too long ago.

But Jisung is coming. That’s all that matters.

You’re at the top of the stairs when Jungkook speaks next. “I broke up with Laura.”

You still. As much as you were breaking a second ago, your heart just stops shattering. Just stops existing altogether for a moment.

“What?”

“I broke up with her Sunday morning.”

You turn to look at him. He’s barely visible in the purple light that escapes his room, and you can’t see his features. But you feel the weight of his gaze on you.

“What?”

“I’m not with her anymore. I wanted to talk to you about it tomorrow only, because I found you already vulnerable earlier.” He pauses. “That’s why I went to the studio in the first place.”

“Jungkook…”

You wonder if he’s breaking in time with you. You wonder if he too was vulnerable tonight, and if that’s the reason why he’s cried so much.

Did he care for her enough to ache from your presence?

“I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you by telling you while you were vulnerable.”

You understand why he chose to do it that way. But you still hate him for it.

“You’re an idiot.”

“I know.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Jeon Jungkook.”

You think he might be smiling. He does sound like he’s smiling when he speaks next. “Can I hug you?”

“I hate you.”

He laughs, and it breaks, and you only then realize that he wasn’t smiling. He’s crying, and he wipes a hand on his face.

“Don’t…” you trail off, and then you both startle as Jin appears in the doorframe to his room.

“Can you guys please shut the fuck up, it’s the middle of the night.”

You snort. It sounds like a pig, or maybe a hog or a boar. You actually have no idea what it sounds like, just that it’s hysteric, as is the laughter that erupts from you and Jungkook quite at the same time.

Jin just watches the both of you as if you’re crazy, and you are. You’ve suffered so much you’ve gone crazy, and you don’t even care.

You laugh longer than Jungkook, shedding tears that you dry mindlessly with your thumb. Tears heavy with emotions, different emotions than the ones that you’ve been feeling for weeks.

Indeed, hope has cracked some part of the pain, like a sunrise that shines through a veil of thick clouds, sunrays stubbornly refusing to be stopped by the bleariness.

You laugh for all the breaking that you did, and it’s no wonder Jungkook eventually moves to grab your hand and pull you back into his room. Only then do you stop laughing, and you say, “Jisung is coming to pick me up.”

That showers the both of you until you’ve calmed down, enough to be able to glance at Jin that’s still watching with the most disgusted expression on his features. When the two of you find him on his doorstep, Jin figures it’s better to dip, and he goes in, shutting the door softly behind him.

You think you see him winking at Jungkook before he disappears from view.

“Okay,” Jungkook lets out. “That’s okay, let me grab your bag.”

“You’re not angry?”

He shakes his head no in the faint light of the hallway, glancing at you as he grabs the bag you left near his door. “No. I understand that you need some space. And we’ll talk tomorrow, right?”

You nod. You nod because you’re done breaking. “I’ll call you first thing in the morning.” And then you feel infinitely stupid, because he’s blocked your number months ago.

Jungkook has probably thought about the same thing, because as he’s walking back towards you, he says, “I’m sorry I blocked you.”

You raise your hand, the one whose wrist is in a brace. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Just unblock me.”

“I…” he trails off. “I don’t know how to.”

You shut your eyes. “You’re annoying.”

“I’ll figure it out”, he promises. “I’ll figure it out and I’ll be the one calling you.”

You nod, and you look at him. “I… might be angry at you.”

“I deserve it.” He grabs the bag you’re holding, and then motions to the stairs. “You can punch me if you want, but we should go downstairs before Jin kills me.”

“Please do!”

You both laugh once again, and you think you hear a feminine voice scolding Jin.

You follow Jungkook downstairs, shining light with your phone so you don’t fall. Jungkook leads you right to the hall, and he puts your bags down by the door. He then leans down to massage his knee, and you wonder if pain has licked its fingers up his thigh the way it’s been licking its fingers up your arm.

But not in your heart. Your heart is done aching.

You glance outside, and you see that Jisung is already there. He must have been at Felix’s place. Jungkook notices too as he stretches, and you think you see disappointment on his features.

“Do you want me to carry the bags to the car?” he asks, gently.

You reach out between you, hand moving up until it’s cupped his cheek. He looks startled, eyes going round and looking between your two pupils a couple of times.

“I’m sorry I woke you up”, you say as you let your hand fall, because you have no idea why you did that in the first place.

“No, don’t be,” he reassures you. “I’m glad I woke up and could reassure you. I don’t like misunderstandings.”

You think he’s a little full of shit for saying so, because you wouldn’t have been in this position if he listened to you in July. But you refrain from telling him, because you’re going to talk to him tomorrow, and tomorrow only. When you’ll both be ready.

Tonight, you’re still going to cling to the fact that he cares.

He cares, and he hasn’t forgotten about you, or about the July night sky. No, he too still can see the stars that night.

And suddenly, you don’t fear tomorrow anymore.

*****

Felix’s apartment is cozy in the morning light. But the absence of curtains in the living room windows has made it hard to sleep. You’re lucky you don’t have a class today. You usually do, a three-hour long class at 8 am, but the professor gave you a week off before the midterm next week. He’s still available for office hours, but you’ve had him before in another class. You know he’s not a strict grader. So you’re not going to make it to office hours, and you’ll try to catch up on more sleep before Felix and Jisung wake up.

It’s hard to fall back asleep though. Indeed, your thoughts have been clouded with Jungkook. With the anxiety that you can finally talk to him now, that he’s not hers, but that you don’t even know if you have something to tell him.

He was soft yesterday. Willing to help, wearing his heart on his sleeve the way you reckon he did it that July weekend. It reminds you that Jungkook has a heart of gold. It took you years before you saw it, but now it’s blinding you.

Jungkook would go to the ends of the Earth to help the people he cares about. And he cares about you. You, with the flaws that make the mosaic of you. You, who’s never been able to love, and now you think maybe you’ve loved all along.

Because what was that hate for him, if not misguided love? Immature feelings, maybe. Though you wouldn’t call it love. You wouldn’t dare say you love Jungkook. But you do feel for him. You feel for him the way you feel for the early morning. It’s filled with possibilities, with calm and serene moments. It doesn’t ask for anything but offers all. And maybe that’s how you’ve been feeling for him all along.

You sigh, turning so your back is to the window, trying to block out the rising sun so you can sleep some more. It does nothing to how your heart’s been acting up, but you still force yourself to lie in silence, to enjoy the feeling of infinity today carries.

You’ve dozed off a little by the time movement is heard in the apartment, and your eyes flutter open to look at the ceiling, as you’ve turned on your back. You yawn, stretching a little, before glancing to the side.

You let out a high-pitched squeal at the sight of the shirtless man that’s standing there, and he startles just as much as you, letting out a sound that rivals with the one you just made.

He’s not Felix, and he’s not Jisung. In reality, you have no idea who he is. You didn’t even know Felix has a roommate.

“Who are you?” the guy asks, and the first thing you notice is his accent.

“Jisung’s friend,” you reply as you sit up.

The man seems to realize he’s half naked, and he folds his arms on his chest. It makes his biceps pop out, and you reckon he’s quite the sight to see so early in the morning.

You have the decency to blush at the thought, and you look down at the floor.

“He and Felix offered to let me sleep here,” you add, worrying at your bottom lip. “I’m not going to stay.”

The guy shrugs. “Hey, it’s okay. Just was startled.” He laughs a little, before glancing in the direction of what you assume is the kitchen. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Uh,” you let out. “Yeah, sure.”

Turns out the guy is called Chris. The accent you’ve heard at first is the unmistakable Australian accent, and he informs you that he’s moved here with Felix for college. You end up eating breakfast along with him, because he’s decided to make protein pancakes. You’re surprised at how good they are, and you’re idly chatting at the kitchen table when Jisung enters.

He looks between you and Chris once, before saying, “You’ve got explanations about how you ended up at Jungkook’s place last night.”

He’s got a firm authoritative tone to his voice, and you recognize him for the older brother he is to you. You let out a shy laugh, before shrugging your shoulders.

“I already told you mom kicked me out.”

Chris’s eyes go wide as saucers as he looks at you, before his gaze dips down to his pancakes and he focuses on eating them.

“Yes, but Jungkook?”

Felix appears behind Jisung, brushing sleep out of his eyes. “Leave her alone, Han.”

Jisung glares at his boyfriend, before shrugging his shoulders. “I just think it’s weird because he’s got a girlfriend.”

“They broke up”, you say in a defensive tone.

Because it’s Jungkook you’re talking about, and you’d always defend him.

Jisung looks so surprised you almost start laughing. And it’s weird that you’re in a laughing mood – you were kicked out yesterday for God’s sake. But at the same time, it feels like you’ve reached the limit of your breaking, and the morning holds the possibility of healing.

The morning, and Jungkook, you reckon. Because you know healing starts with Jungkook. Healing starts with figuring out where it all went wrong, it starts with the conversation you’re supposed to have later.

Some place you also can study, hopefully, because you’ve got a midterm on Thursday.

“You’re fucking shitting me,” Jisung lets out as Felix starts pouring coffee for himself.

You shrug, feeling shy as everyone’s gaze moves to you. “They broke up on Sunday.”

“And you were over yesterday? Boy’s not wasting time.”

You furrow your brows. “It’s actually a coincidence that I ended up at his place. And Jiji’s fault.”

“Jiji? She hates his guts,” Jisung points out, still not fully believing you.

“She told him to go to the studio, he found me crying about getting kicked out and he offered me to spend the night before I figure out what to do.”

“That’s fair enough”, Felix says, interrupting Jisung who clearly was about to say something vile about Jungkook.

Jisung frowns, but he sighs and lets the expression go. He fully walks into the kitchen, helping himself to some of the pancakes Chris made. “He hurts you again I’ll fucking punch him.”

“Sungie,” you whine. “You’re the one that wanted me to tell him how I felt.”

“That was ages ago,” he reminds you. “I also told you to move on.”

“We’re going to talk today,” you admit.

There’s a heavy silence that follows your words. Jisung looks at you like you’re stupid, Chris seems like he wants to disappear, and Felix scrolls away on his phone as if he hasn’t heard.

“You ask me to come pick you up from his place in the middle of the night and then you say you’ll talk today?” Jisung eventually says, voice low.

It makes you feel stupid, and it makes you realize that maybe, maybe talking to Jungkook will lead nowhere.

Maybe you’re just going to offer each other closure before you truly move on. But you think you still deserve the closure, you still deserve the moving on. No matter how you might feel for Jungkook, some things truly are just not meant to be.

And this morning you think maybe that’s okay.

“I didn’t know yet that they were broken up,” you admit. “He didn’t want to drop it on me while I was crying because of my mother.”

“Valid,” Felix lets out, offering you salvation from Jisung’s wrath.

“Please,” Jisung scoffs. He seems to realize Jungkook might have actually done it right, because he adds, “Whatever. As I said, if he hurts you, he’s dead.” He’s frowning again, shaking his head. “And I can’t fucking believe your mother. My parents will give you a room at home if you want.”

The pain comes back now, but it’s different. Dull, as if Jungkook took its edges and softened them last night.

“Thank you.” You sigh, looking down at your plate, and you know you won’t be able to finish eating. “I’m going to get an apartment.”

It changes the subject to apartment hunting, and Jisung does his best to not appear too pissed whenever you mention that Jungkook will be helping you. Because even if all you give each other today is closure, you know Jungkook will still help.

You think you might know him better than you know yourself after all.

You follow Felix out when he says he needs to leave for college. You reckon sharing a Lyft might be a good idea, because you’re still on the other side of town. Felix agrees, though he admits he usually takes public transport to go to college. You shrug your shoulders, saying you’ll pay, and it’s halfway to your college that you realize something.

You realize you need to stop spending and to start saving money, if you want to be able to afford an apartment. And it makes you feel strange inside, like you might still have more that can break.

You cling to the feeling this morning holds. But some part of you is growing weary, dreary, because you get to college before Jungkook texts, and he told you he’d text you first thing in the morning. You don’t know his schedule though. You can’t assume his morning starts at the same time as yours do, so you try to stay calm and not let panic rise in you.

Felix walks with you on campus, until you part ways because he has to get to class. You decide you’re going to squat in the library, with your damn duffel bag and school bag you’ve been carrying around since yesterday. You find a spot in a corner, and you get busy studying, figuring it’s a better way to pass the time instead of looking at your phone expecting Jungkook to call you, to give you a sign of life.

You like studying. As much as law is a hard subject, it makes you feel connected to your father, somehow, and you like it. You like the highlighters and the lo-fi medieval beats and the books filled with laws and ethics and everything in between. You like being in a library, looking like you’ve got your shit together. You think that, to outside eyes, you probably look like you do. You can invent a life to yourself here, one where you haven’t been kicked out. One where you’re the pride of your family, and where you go skiing in the Alps once a year, taking pictures that you hang over the fireplace.

Not that you’re a big skier, and not that you’d go to the Alps anyway. You’d rather backpack around the world, discovering cultures unheard of before.

But sometimes, you do wish your family would have worked. You do wish your father never left, your mother never cheated. And sometimes, you do wonder who’s your biological dad.

Not that it’s important, and not that you will know one day. Your mother says she doesn’t even remember his name, and he was just a back-up dancer in a foreign country. Not someone that you’d ever have a chance of running into.

You sigh, turning the page of the book you’ve been reading. It’s about international law, your favourite subject, and your hardest class this semester. Professor Wickham is a bitch, and she loves failing people. Loves the look of pure distress people throw at her during exams, because she insists on being there while her students take her exams.

She’s a bitch, but she’s also renowned in the field, and you’ve been trying to make a good impression on her forever. Even though she refused you last semester when you tried getting an internship with her. Even though your summer internship still ended being great.

You run a hand through your hair, and you reach towards the reusable water bottle you always carry with you. Your hand stops halfway when your phone lights up next to you, and you grab it, heart beating wildly in your chest.

To your dismay, it isn’t Jungkook, but Jimin texting you.

[10:17 am] park.jm: jk wants me to tell you he’s an idiot [10:17 am] park.jm: he’s not able to unblock u. But he wants to know where u are🫥

You can’t hold in the smile that decides to grow on your lips.

[10:17 am] You: my college’s library. he can unblock me on insta and dm here..🙄

This time, you laugh a little when you see the next message you’ve received.

[10:18 am] jkonthebeat: i’m fkg dumb [10:18 am] jkonthebeat: is there a cafe near ur library? [10:19 am] jkonthebeat: haven’t eaten yet and figured it’d be great to talk over a cup of coffee? [10:19 am] jkonthebeat: if u still wanna talk [10:19 am] jkonthebeat: like i’d understand if u’d rather not? plz don’t feel like you have to [10:19 am] You: Jungkook [10:20 am] jkonthebeat: …what? [10:20 am] You: yes i still want to talk. i’ll send u the location of a chill place [10:21 am] jkonthebeat: okay, yeah good. i’ll be there as quickly as i can [10:23 am] You: shared location [10:26 am] jkonthebeat: eta 35 min😌

You can almost imagine Jungkook panicking on his side of the screen, and it makes you laugh a little more. Some guy throws you a look from the table where he’s sitting, and you offer him a wry smile before looking down at your international law book again. You still have a few pages to read in the chapter, so you decide to do that before meeting up with Jungkook.

It’s really hard to focus when you know his starry gaze is waiting for you. You eventually make it through, though it takes you so long you have to jog to the café to make it on time. You’re out of breath when you get there, and maybe a little sweaty, which you reckon might be disgusting. But Jungkook arrives almost right in time with you, hands digging in the pockets of his sweater pants. He looks like he came in his PJs, and you offer him a small smile when his eyes meet yours.

It’s an embrace, the same way the sun embraces the Earth every morning. It feels like you’d feel lying down in the morning sun rays, letting them warm your cold skin from the lightless night. It feels like you’re safe, like you’ve journeyed around the world only to return to the same spot that you’ll always return to.

He’s cataclysmic, he really is. Like he created you that night in July, the same way you know you’ve created him. In truth, you reckon the cataclysm might be you two together. As if the stars wrote the story decades ago, as if the universe knew your fate from its birth.

You expect it to hurt, but it doesn’t. It’s peaceful. You reckon you deserve a little bit of peace.

“Hey,” he greets you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the pink tint on his cheeks.

“Good morning.” You glance over your shoulder, at the door to the café, before meeting his soft gaze once more. “Do you want to go in?”

He nods, laughing a little. “I got to admit I’m starving.”

“Well, let’s get some food for you,” you say, and you turn.

You’re about to open the door when he grabs the duffel bag from you. “Let me carry that.”

“Oh,” you let out. “I don’t mind, I’m getting used to it.”

He just offers you a no-bullshit look that leaves no room for arguing, so you chuckle before opening the door. He follows you inside, and you choose a table in a quiet corner before you go to order something. You settle on an almond croissant while Jungkook gets a coffee and a cinnamon bun, along with a muffin that ‘looks too good to be left there’. You roll your eyes at his comment, but he just offers you a wink.

It’s the wink you once thought was cocky. It’s not cocky at all anymore today, just teasing.

You’re back at the table and halfway through your croissant when Jungkook says, “Thank you for accepting to meet up.”

It makes you anxious, because the time has come. No matter how much you want this conversation to happen, you can’t help but dread it too.

“Of course.”

He worries at his piercing, big doe eyes watching you carefully. You feel as if he’s gazing right at your soul, and maybe he is.

Maybe he’s been gazing at it since the very first day.

“I’m going to start by saying I’m sorry,” he says, with a shy insecure voice you’ve never heard from him before. “Not that it changes anything. I can’t imagine how it must have felt for you all this time.”

Straight to the point. For some reason, you expected him to talk about your mother. But maybe he believes the subject to be over, or he’s been wanting to talk to you for too long about what’s been troubling his heart.

“It…” you start but you don’t know how to say it. You don’t know which adjective to employ, because all of them feel like you’re just trying to guilt him. And though you do want him to feel guilt, you know you don’t have to impose it on him.

He’s doing it to himself already.

“It’s been really hard,” you choose to simply say, because it’s the truth. “The way you did a one-eighty in just a few days? Like…” you trail off because you don’t know where to go, but Jungkook’s listening, waiting for you to continue patiently as he surveys you with those big eyes of his. “Like I felt horrible. The moment I told you we shouldn’t have…”

That’s what you wanted to tell him in July. Strange to think that the words are coming out now.

“I don’t think I believed it. Maybe I wanted to believe it, because it was scary, but I never believed it. And I’m sorry I said that.”

He’s still playing with his piercing, and it takes him a while to digest your words. “I knew, if that can make you feel any better. Not that I think it’ll feel better. But you have to understand that it really hurt me. Like…” It’s his turn to look for words, and you anxiously wait for what’s to follow. “I’m not a perfect person. I try to be, and I’ve tried even harder after the accident. But when you said that, I felt ashamed. Like I’m just someone disgusting. And I focused on it so hard the only thing I could think to do was push you away.”

And he did it. So easily, as if you were nothing but some weed he was taking out from his burgeoning flowers.

It hurts, that same pain you’ve grown accustomed to over the last few months. You want to flee, to disappear, but you know you have to face your feelings. Ignoring them brought you nowhere good, didn’t it?

“Did it help you feel better?” you ask.

A crease appears between his brows, and you wish to reach between you so you can flatten it away. Needless to say, you resist the impulse, and hate yourself for having it in the first place.

“It did?” he admits, though he sounds unsure. “I can’t lie and say I didn’t get scared too. It was terrifying. But I think I knew before you did.”

“What?”

“I think the night after I told you about the accident?” he says like a question, waiting for you to nod before he continues. “It changed something for me. I couldn’t see you the same way that I saw you before.”

You remember the day after he told you. You were angry at him, because he ignored the text you sent him when you woke up. Mostly because you were embarrassed that you acted like you cared, and you reckon you already did too. It feels like a lifetime ago, and for a mere moment you wish you could be back there and tell yourself to stop being blind. It’d save you a heartbreak.

“Oh,” is all you can think to say.

“So then it all culminated when you looked like you regretted so much,” he adds. You think you see him gulp. “Not going to lie, it actually really hurt. And when I hurt, I tend to turn into a very ugly person.” At that he can’t hold your gaze anymore, and he chuckles bitterly as he shakes his head. “Ask Tae.”

“You weren’t an ugly person”, you gently say after he’s stared at his half-eaten cinnamon bun for a while. “I hurt you, and you tried to move on. No?”

He looks at you again then. “Yeah. But I think some part of me wanted to hurt you too. And…” His gaze lines with silver, and his words die on his mouth. It makes you feel like there’s lava in your blood again, and you shiver. “And I did hurt you. I saw you wasting away all those weeks. You looked… so sad. And nobody cared.”

You don’t think it’s true that nobody cared. But you think you understand what he’s trying to say: nobody cared the way that he did, nobody can care the way that he does. Or so you like to tell yourself.

“It wasn’t just you, if that can reassure you,” you admit, eyes falling to his coffee cup as he picks it up. He doesn’t move to drink, just holds it, maybe because he needs to busy his hands. “There was my mom, and then Jiho growing distant, and all that shit. The internship was great, but it was rough too.”

All of it is true, though you know it wouldn’t have felt as gut-wrenching if you didn’t have to watch Jungkook loving someone else coincidentally.

“Thank you for saying so.” He clears his throat, tries a glance your way but decides to let his gaze drop again. He shifts in his chair a little, before saying, “I understand why you didn’t come to dance practice most of the time. And honestly, I didn’t like that you weren’t there. I know it makes me selfish, but I… I wanted to see you? Because…” He gulps, and you watch a tear as it rolls down his cheek. “Because then I could at least know that you were okay?”

You shut your eyes, nodding slowly. “It was just too hard to see you.”

“I know.”

There’s a pause in the conversation, while both of you fight the emotions that are choking you up. You expected you’d get angry at him, but all you’re able to feel is longing, the kind of longing that aches and burns and crushes your heart.

“I was a dick for not listening to you that night after practice,” he says, slowly. You open your eyes to look at him, catching his eyes on you before they flit back to the table. “I knew exactly what you were going to say, and I couldn’t hear it. I think if we had had this conversation then, I would have hated you.”

It’s your turn to gulp. “Why?”

“Because it was too soon. I was still neck deep in the embarrassment, and in the selfishness. But I wish I didn’t have to break your heart for the embarrassment to go away.”

“You think the ending would have been worse if I had told you that night?”

You sound like you don’t believe it. Maybe because for weeks you’ve kept telling yourself that it would have made things better. It’s hard to accept that it could have made things worse.

“Oh, trust me,” he says, scoffing. “I would have been very ugly. Remember all the fights we used to have? They wouldn’t have compared.” He pulls at his piercing, hard, and you think it probably hurts, but he doesn’t look like he cares. “I was ready to hurt you. That’s why I left.”

There’s an untold sentence there, but you hear it nonetheless.

I knew I was already going to hurt you anyway.

And that he sure did. But you find it hard to be angry at him today. You do let a silence linger for a time, only because you feel like cursing and crying at the same time, and you don’t want either to happen.

It passes, with your gaze diverting to the street outside. You watch a woman walking her dog until she’s disappeared from view, and then your eyes move up to the blue sky. It’s strange how sunny it is, when you feel like a tiny storm is brewing between you and Jungkook.

“Were you happy with her?” you ask, eyes still on the world outside.

It takes a while for Jungkook to reply. “I don’t know, honestly. I wasn’t sad by her side, I won’t lie to you, but I don’t think I was happy.” He chuckles sadly. “In all truth, I think I was punishing myself by being with her.”

It makes you look at him again, and this time your gazes connect like long lost lovers hugging after years apart.

“Punishing yourself for what?”

“For all the bad things I told you, all the times I tried to get on your nerves on purpose.” He shrugs. “For the way I purposefully decided to break your heart, and how I tried to ignore the consequences at first.” He speaks with conviction now, like that’s really what he’s been wanting to say all along. “I knew that being with her was hurting me, and I believed I deserved it.”

“But why?”

“Because… I feel like we’re going in circles, so I won’t repeat all that I just said. But because of all of that,” he says, and there’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. “All in all, I just was a fucking idiot.”

You can’t agree more, so you purse your lips and nod once. “That you were.”

He doesn’t even fake offence, just chuckles a little before taking a sip of coffee.

“Do you really want to help me with the apartment?” you ask, thoughtfully, eyes glazing a little as your mind runs miles away from him, to the place of hurt that being homeless at the moment is bringing to you.

“Yes,” he answers softly. “Not even because I want to redeem myself or anything. Like I said yesterday, I do care about you. And I wouldn’t let you go through a situation like this alone.”

You inhale shakily, blinking away the sudden tears. You won’t cry again.

“Okay.”

There’s another silence, only interrupted by the regular café sounds. You only then notice that there’s some music playing, but it’s so low you can barely make-out the song. It sounds like some indie artist you’ve heard once before, but it’s hard to tell.

“Do you think…” he starts, but he doesn’t finish. Instead, he eats a bite of cinnamon bun, as if he’s giving himself time to collect his thoughts. “Do you think we could be friends? Like… I don’t think I deserve your friendship, after everything that’s happened, but I’d forever be thankful if you still gave it to me.”

You don’t even hesitate before you say, “Of course, Jungkook.” You’re choking on tears again. “Of course we’re friends.”

He’s crying too. “We can put it in the past?”

You bite at your lip to keep a sob in. “It might take some time, but yes, I think we can.”

“Fuck”, he curses, then he adds your name like it’s his favourite line from his favourite poem. He says it softly, carefully. “I am so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

He shakes his head, stubbornly blinking his tears away. “No, but like… this is all my fault. I think I’ve never fucked up so bad in my life.”

“Jungkook…”

“I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you.”

It sounds like a promise, with forever laced to it. And maybe that’s what you are to him, a forever he can’t bring himself to let go.

It’s what he is to you too. Because, for all that Jisung and your father said, you didn’t want to move on from Jungkook. Some part of you always believed you’d find your way back to him, and today, you know you weren’t wrong.

And you’d go through the pain all over again, for eternity, just to experience this moment with him right now. This new cataclysm, the one that creates instead of destroying. It creates a world between you, and you find yourself excited to explore it. Yes, the scars will stay, but scars make us who we are.

Scars mar Jungkook’s skin, mar your heart and his too. Scars are the reason why your heart started opening up in the first place, and scars are what makes you want to hold on to him today. They brought you to him, brought him to you, and the pain that they carry, like everything in life, doesn’t last.

No winter lasts forever, no night can stop the sun from shining when the morrow comes.

But you’re right. It’ll take a while before you’re able to fully forgive Jungkook. The look in his eyes tells you that he’ll be with you every step of the way. It tells you that he’d die for you, and maybe he already did. Maybe you both died for each other, and that’s what the scars truly tell. A story of a complicated love that destroys and creates.

The story of the cataclysm of you and him. The story of the forgotten spaces where you always met. Because Jungkook meets you, even in the darkest corners of your heart. He doesn’t balk from it, doesn’t fear the worst of you. And you’d meet him in the desert, in the dance your hearts share, the one his body can’t experience anymore, but his soul and yours know by heart.

Maybe he’s been your forgotten space all along, and you his.

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The idiots are finally not idioting too much anymore :') what did we think? Did we like this chapter? Let me know!

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intotheseas · 2 months

Note

But like. Ominis and Seb meeting MC's parents for the first time? Hear me out. Seb has nowhere to go for the summer months after the *ahem* incident in the catacomb. So MC offers both Ominis and sebby boi to stay with her for the summer. (Her parents are weird like she is)

Soooo I actually have almost this exact scene coming in a couple chapters in my fic "The Softest Magic", except without the incident and Vera only has her mother, who is the epitome of uber-caring trollmom lol. But I also want to explore how it might have been if Vera's father was alive, mess with some story points, and play around with present tense too, so here you go! Hope you don't mind that I wrote it with my MC and most of all I hope you like it! Please keep in mind I am new to writing so it definitely won't be perfect ahh and I may have run with the prompt a bit lot :) Read here on AO3 or below the break. 3,817 words.

Features: aged up characters (characters are 17), love triangle, but it's not a bad thing, they're just dancing around it trying to figure it out, hurt/comfort, healing, supportive parents doing what they do best, good parents, fluff, some liberties taken with canon (basically made Solomon an absolute arse), forgiveness.

Contains mentions of murder, violence/abuse, HL spoilers, implied teenage romance, small bit of underage drinking, cheese. Not beta read or proofread super thoroughly.

She’s sitting with him in the Room of Requirement, her thumb rubbing circles over the back of his hand. Sunlight beats down on them and it’s almost uncomfortable, too exposing. He’s bared his soul to her - both the brightest and darkest corners, and it’s taking Vera some effort to average the two. She keeps her eyes trained on his hand, not sure how to look him in the eye when he’s crying. Like it’s a little too much, like it’s a boundary they haven’t made the decision to cross yet.

Which is pretty weird, she thinks, since she saw him kill his uncle just a few weeks ago. Since they’ve shared countless nights together with Ominis, slumped over books, demolishing poachers, falling asleep on this very sofa. The thought shakes her from her weird paralysis and she thinks, fuck it, he needs help. He needs love.

“Come home with me this summer,” she says. “You and Ominis.” Vera meets his eyes, dead serious. “You need somewhere to go and my parents will be overenthusiastic hosts.”

He gives her a look, like he thinks this is a trick. He gives her that look a lot lately, ever since…well, ever since the catacombs. Like he thinks he doesn’t deserve anything nice coming his way. Vera gets it, too. You don’t murder a family member, even in self-defence, and come out without some serious issues.

It’s evident in the way he folds into himself, like a child who’s been yelled at by his father. Vera wonders briefly, how often did Solomon yell at him like that? How often did he hit him? She knows Solomon fought to kill in the catacombs. It was either them or him.

His voice is quiet, meek. So unlike the brash and charming Sebastian she’s come to know and love over the past year. “You mean it?”

Vera pulls him into a hug. “What else would I do? Leave you both in that cottage without Anne? Ridiculous. You and Ominis can come back with me. My parents will love you.” She feels him stiffen in her arms. “And no, I won’t tell them what happened. That parts up to you.”

The wall behind them grates and shifts as Ominis crosses the door’s threshold. “I thought I might find you two here,” he says. His voice is soft, tentative, like he isn’t sure how to say the words, or if he should say them at all.

Vera releases Sebastian from her grasp and gets up, pulls Ominis close. Sebastian’s situation, from the Scriptorium to the catacombs, has traumatised him, too. His best friend, maybe more than that, slipping into the Dark Arts despite his most fervent warnings, careening down the road to hell paved entirely with obsession and good intentions. Despite all his apprehensions, he’s remained loyal to Sebastian until the bitter end. Vera loves Ominis for it. She loves them both.

“Hey Omi,” she says. “I was just telling Seb this, but come home with me this summer. Both of you. My parents are going to love you.” Ominis holds on to her like a life raft, like she’s the one thing keeping him afloat in the maelstrom of fucked-up their lives have become.

“You…you’re certain your parents would welcome two extra students?”

Vera laughs, despite the weird atmosphere. “I’m positive. They always wanted more kids, but Mum couldn’t. They’ll be thrilled to have you.” She leads Ominis to the sofa where Sebastian is still curled into himself, like an old piece of parchment. “I won't force you, but…if you both want to, I can send them an owl right now. What do you think?”

Ominis sits beside Sebastian, loops his arm around his back. “Sebastian? What do you think? I don’t particularly fancy the idea of spending the summer in Feldcroft…it’s too close to…everything. And my family isn’t even worth considering as an option.” Sebastian leans his head against his shoulder.

“If Vera thinks her parents won’t care…if I won’t be an imposition-”

“You won’t,” Vera insists.

“...then okay. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go. You’re right, Ominis, the cottage isn’t an option. I don’t think I could bear being so close to…and if Anne comes back and doesn’t want to see me…” He hangs his head even lower, buries it in his hands. Ominis holds him, runs his fingers through his hair.

Vera walks over to the table in the middle of the room, scratches down a note.

Mum and Dad,

Mind if I bring two of my friends home for the summer? I’ve told you about them, Ominis and Sebastian? They’ve…had a rough year. We all have. I’m giving them all the care I can, but I think some hospitality done Bell style would do them good.

Love you and miss you lots, let me know,

Vera

An owl comes in through the open window, hops over to her. She affixes the letter to its leg and sends it off with a few pats.

She walks over to the sofa and drapes her arms over her two closest friends. Kisses the tops of their heads with all the tenderness she can muster. “I sent them an owl. I’m sure they’ll say yes. In the meantime…I know none of us are okay, but we have O.W.Ls in a month. We need to focus, and you both need to get your mind off of this.” She summons several books and rolls of parchment to the table in front of them.

They groan slightly, but pull books to their laps, their quiet murmurs filling the air. It’s a step, Vera thinks. On a very long staircase. But it’s a step.

Two days later, the Bell’s family owl, Button, swoops in through the Room of Requirement’s window, crash landing into the pile of books and parchment littering the table. He’s small and spotted, and terribly uncoordinated. Perfect in his imperfectness, as Vera’s mom likes to say. He hops excitedly on one foot, waits for Vera to untie the letter tied to his leg.

Vera,

Of course we don’t mind. Tell them they’re coming home. We can’t wait to meet them.

We love and miss you, too. Good luck with O.W.Ls! Can’t wait to see you!

Mum and Dad

“Well, it’s official,” Vera announces. “You two are coming home with me in a month. My parents say they can’t wait to meet you both.” The first genuine smile she’s seen in weeks graces Sebastian’s face. Ominis shoulders slump, his expression relieved, and her heart feels a little lighter. This is closer to how it was before. It’ll never be normal again, she knows, but they’ll find a new normal.

A month passes, and day by day, step by step, they find their way toward something resembling peace. The relentless studying helps, takes their mind off of the existential horror of death and loss and replaces it with the existential horror of their futures. A better direction to look in, Vera thinks.

Their O.W.Ls pass without incident. Vera knows she’s done terribly in History of Magic, but failing that O.W.L is basically a rite of passage for every fifth-year, anyway. They’re all exhausted for a different reason now, a reason that feels earned. Like their naps on the plush sofa in the Room of Requirement are borne out of hard work, not a desire to escape consciousness.

And all too soon, they’re met with the scarlet train that will take them home. “Home,” Vera reminds them. “You’re coming home.” The train ride is both reflective and jumpy, an anxious energy buzzing all over the compartment. Flashes of blue skies and green fields fly by their field of vision as the train picks up speed and takes them away. Away from where it happened, away from all the daily reminders. And maybe she’s imagining it, but every metre they travel, the load feels a little less horrifying. It’ll never be gone, not completely, but like water smoothing a stone, time makes everything feel lighter.

Sebastian’s all nerves, drumming his fingers restlessly on his leg. Vera can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes, already knows what he’s thinking. He wonders if he deserves this, if he’ll fuck this up, too. Thinks he might dare to hope a little.

Ominis is a pool of outward calm, like usual. Vera knows better, of course. Knows he’s concerned about Sebastian, concerned about making a good first impression on her parents.

She’s nervous, too. Nervous about the unspoken bonds between them all. She loves them both, probably as more than friends.

No, definitely as more than friends. She thinks they might feel the same way about her, but she thinks they feel that way about each other, too, and probably have for a long time. The entire year has been a nervous yet comforting dance, the steps marked by stolen glances, lingering touches, chaste kisses on the cheek, fingers interlaced, and too many “accidental” nights spent curled around each other in front of the fire to be accidental. Vera supposes it doesn’t need to be figured out right away, as long as they’re all content.

The smog and odour of London is overpowering as they step off the train and through Platform 9 ¾’s barrier. They’ve decided to floo straight home - no need to make her parents come all the way out here to collect them. A coffee shop nearby provides some sanctuary from the sensory overload, a cheery witch levitating several pots of coffee and tea waves to them over her shoulder as they duck in. “Back from Hogwarts, darlings? Floo point’s in the corner. You enjoy your vacations now!”

They wave back in thanks and cross over to the crackling fireplace. Vera’s voice rings out clearly. “Bell Residence, London!”

The vertigo-inducing, oddly squeezing sensation of floo travel is something Vera still hasn’t grown accustomed to, and she’s a little dizzy as they stumble into her kitchen. The pale yellows of the wallpaper and tablecloth deepen in the warm glow of the sun through the window. Her parents look up expectantly, happily.

Ava, her mother, still in her lime-green Healer robes, immediately stands and gathers them all into a surprisingly crushing hug. Her blonde hair’s in its usual bun and freckles dot across her face like stars as her eyes crinkle into an enormous smile. “Welcome home, loves,” she murmurs. “I’m so happy you’re all here. I’m Ava, and this,” she points over to the man at the table, “is Riley.”

Riley rises from the table, taller than all of them. Vera peeks to the side at Ominis and Sebastian, sees them shrink back slightly and almost giggles. Her father looks imposing, but he’s even more of a dear than Ava. His ruddy cheeks emphasise his genuine smile, and his curly tawny hair falls in every direction. Vera hugs him tightly, and Riley grabs Sebastian and Ominis, brings them into the fold. “Welcome home,” he says. “All of you.”

Ava nearly dances around them, levitates their luggage with her wand and leads them down a long hallway toward another sun-soaked room. There are two guest beds set up, plush and feathery, with deep emerald green duvets resting on top. Vera’s bed rests to the left, her duvet a cheery yellow. “Afraid we don’t have a guest room, but this’ll do, right?” She winks, and her eyes dance with mischief. “I’m sure you’re all exhausted from the trip. Why don’t you all rest in here while Riley and I make dinner?” She steps lightly out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Vera sits on her bed, sinking into the thick duvet. “Well,” she says. “Those are my parents.” I promise Dad is a lot less imposing than he seems. He and Mom are really playful people. It’s just kind of how they show their love.”

Sebastian and Ominis sit, flanking her, their faces contemplative. They flop backwards, their hands finding each other by habit, fingers interlocking.

“I don’t know if I deserve this kindness,” Sebastian admits. His brow furrows as he gazes at the ceiling. Ominis leans his head against Vera’s shoulder, reaches with his other hand to place it atop Sebastian’s.

“Maybe it isn’t about deserving it,” Vera murmurs. “I mean, it’s happening anyway. The kindness. Trust me, my parents are going to treat you like you’re their own. And Mum has an uncanny sense with these things…you don’t have to tell her anything you don’t want to, but I think you’ll find she’s a lot more understanding than you’d think.”

Sebastian chews on her words, considers them slowly and thoughtfully. “It’s just…I feel like I’ve put enough bad into the world. Why should I accept any goodness?”

Ominis moves his hand to Sebastian’s shoulder and squeezes. “Because people are giving it to you,” he says. His tone is matter-of-fact. “It’s up to you whether you accept it. But if you’re asking me…I think you deserve some kindness.”

They stay like this for a while, thinking and reflecting. The air between them seems both impossibly vast yet precarious, like a single action could change everything. Eventually they doze, their proximity comforting each other.

Ava’s knuckles rap against the door. “Dinner!” she calls out. The three spring up, their reverie over.

Riley and Ava are at the table when they arrive. There are thick slices of bread Vera knows her mother baked this morning, topped with generous dollops of butter. Slices of cheddar cheese are nestled beside it, and bits of roasted meat and mashed potatoes send mouth-watering smells into the kitchen.

Her parents smile, tell them to sit down. The food is immaculate, and Vera senses both Sebastian and Ominis feeling more at ease with the lively chatter Ave and Riley curate. They talk about O.W.Ls, their Hogwarts houses, potential future careers, and all the gossip that Ava and Riley hear around St Mungos and the Ministry. The atmosphere is warm and familiar, and it isn’t long until the family’s pet kneazles are begging for scraps at their feet.

They end the night with a game of wizards chess, Riley insists he play with Sebastian. It’s a close game, but Riley booms with laughter when Sebastian finally checkmates him, the little chess pieces crumbling into bits and reassembling shortly after. “Seems like our daughter found a smart one,” he says approvingly. His eyes twinkle in that fatherly way, and it’s all for Sebastian.

Meanwhile, Ava, Ominis, and Vera indulge in a spirited discussion about healing magic. Ominis is ardently interested, shares his plans to become a Healer himself. Ava is over the moon hearing this, leans forward eagerly, wants to know everything Ominis thinks. Her attention’s all for him, like she knows he never had a mother to dote over him like he should have. She probably does know, Vera thinks. She just knows things sometimes, in her perceptive way. And Ominis soaks it up.

Ava and Riley retire to their bedroom shortly after. “Have fun tonight. Just don’t burn the flat down,” they wink. They crawl into bed together, a bubble of silence hanging between them before Ava pops it gleefully. “So, which one do you think fancies Vera?”

Riley hums. “Sebastian, maybe? But it’s hard to tell. They might both fancy her.” His face is thoughtful. “I hope it won’t end in heartbreak for them.”

Ava glances at him, surprised. “You think so? I think they all have a thing going. Sebastian and Ominis, too. They’re such a tight-knit little group.” She gazes at the ceiling, a smile dancing along her lips. “Well, as long as they’re happy. That’s all that matters to me. Times are certainly changing.” Riley murmurs in agreement, pulls his wife close.

“You’re right. As long as they’re happy. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

At the opposite end of the flat, Vera, Sebastian, and Ominis lay in their separate beds. Awkwardness hangs like a fog above them. No one’s sure how to dispel it.

“This is odd, right?” Ominis’ voice is quiet, a little unsure.

“No, it’s definitely weird,” Sebastian answers. “Vera?”

“Oh thank Merlin,” she sighs. “I thought you two were going to stay quiet all night. “Get over here, please.”

Sebastian and Ominis crawl under her duvet, and the three curl around each other like cats. Sleep takes them quickly.

The next morning, Ava and Riley peek in, and Ava lightly punches Riley’s shoulder as they quietly close the door. “I told you so!” she whispers, a wide grin overtaking her face.

Two months pass in a flash, and Ava and Riley lavish Ominis and Sebastian with affection every chance they get. Ava knows, of course, they’ve all been through something traumatic together, in that way that mothers often know. But she isn’t one to pry. Just to love.

And as this time passes, Sebastian and Ominis feel themselves heal, bit by bit. The wounds scab over, and the horrors of the previous year begin to feel more like bad memories, and less like recurring hellscapes. The pain dulls, and the hole ripped in their lives by the events in the catacombs is lined with wonderful memories, the edges becoming smoother, easier to bear.

They’re sitting at the table one night, lulled into comfortable camaraderie by copious amounts of butterbeer and firewhiskey. They finish their third game of wizards chess and a companionable silence settles over them. Sebastian’s eyes dart from Riley to Ava, then to Ominis and Vera. He takes their hands beneath the table and they squeeze back reassuringly.

“Ava, Riley…can I confess something?”

They nod, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Anything, love,” Ava reassures.

“My uncle died near the end of term. Just before O.W.Ls. Um..it was just me and my twin sister with him. Our parents died when we were kids. Uncle Solomon was…he wasn’t good to us. I mean, I guess he was okay to Anne…she reminded him of our mother. His sister. But he hated our father, and I take after him. He…well, we didn’t get along. There were times when he hit me, and there were times when I hit him back in self-defence. I…my twin was cursed, and I was desperate to find a cure for her, even when Solomon forbade me from doing so.”

Ava straightens in her chair, realisation dawning in her eyes. “Anne Sallow?” she asks.

Sebastian’s eyes widen. “Yes.”

“I remember her. We tried everything we could…it was difficult, seeing her like that. I would have liked for her to stay longer, but your uncle, he seemed determined to take care of her himself. Took her home against our advice.”

Sebastian’s eyes are glued to the wood grain of the table. “That doesn’t surprise me,” he says quietly. “I was so desperate to find a cure for her I went down some paths I shouldn’t have. And it made him angry. But…I couldn’t stop. Vera and Ominis tried to tell me the whole time I was going too far, but…I ignored them. I wasn’t always a good friend to them. But I needed to save her. She’s all I had left.”

Ominis and Vera scoot closer to Sebastian, wrap their arms around him. “We forgave you a long time ago,” Vera murmurs. Ominis nods.

Sebastian’s voice breaks as he continues, a hint of the terrified boy he was at the end of term creeping back in. “I did something I really shouldn’t have. I trifled with Dark Magic, with a relic I found mentioned in a spell book. I really thought it would cure Anne. And that was too much for Solomon. He attacked us, me, Vera, and Ominis. At first, I thought he was just trying to stop me from using the relic, but after he destroyed it, he continued attacking us. I…” His voice breaks again, and tears stream down his face. “I think he was going to kill me. And maybe even Vera and Ominis. He kept hurling fire at us and…and,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “I killed him. It was either him, or me, Vera and Ominis. I chose us.”

He stares down at the table, not daring to look up.

Ava and Riley stare at each other, horror covering their faces. Vera observes them closely. She can see it isn’t horror at Sebastian, but his situation. The choices a young man felt he had to make. The path he went too far down. The tragic conclusion.

They close the distance between them and hug him simultaneously. Sebastian cries into Ava’s shoulder, both weightless and burdened. “I’m sorry,” he sobs. “You’ve just been so nice to me and I…I regret it so much! I don’t know what I should have done instead. And now Anne is gone, and I don’t know where she is.”

Ava kneels down, meets his eyes. “Sebastian…this was too much for you to deal with alone. I’m sorry…I’m sorry you went through all this. Your sister, your uncle, your parents…no, it wasn’t the right idea to get involved in the Dark Arts, but I can understand why you felt you had to.”

He shivers in her arms. “I’ll never touch them again,” he sniffles.

“I know,” Ava soothes. “I know.” She looks at Riley. They communicate silently.

“You’re forgiven,” Riley murmurs. “And you’re always welcome here. That extends to you too, Ominis.”

Vera’s parents lean back and look at Sebastian. “And we won’t tell anyone,” Ava says. “In the wrong hands, this information could really get you in trouble, even though it was self-defence.”

Riley nods. “I’m sorry people weren’t there for you when they should have been.” He pats Ava’s and Ominis’ shoulders quickly. “I know my daughter and Ominis were, and I’m glad for it, but this isn’t a situation that should have fallen into the hands of teenagers.”

Healing is slow, and never linear, Vera thinks. But maybe this is a turning point for Sebastian. Maybe the acceptance and love he needed all along can help him get back on the right path, redeem himself in his own eyes.

A week later, Riley and Ava usher them toward the Hogwarts Express. Ava grips Sebastian and Ominis’ shoulders, her voice firm. “I expect to see you all home for Christmas and Easter, and I expect frequent letters. Okay?”

Ominis and Sebastian nod.

Ava continues. “And you treat each other well. And you two treat Vera well. And Vera, you treat them both well, understood?”

They flush crimson, but nod.

Riley and Ava hug them all, an all-encompassing embrace that feels like home. Vera hopes it feels like home for Sebastian and Ominis, too. After all, that’s what it’s become for them. Home.

#hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #hogwarts legacy sebastian #ominis gaunt x mc #sebastian sallow x mc #sebinis

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startrekfangirl2233-writes · 5 months

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'Tis The Damn Season

Javy 'Coyote' Machado x Reader

Description: You've made your closest friends over the past decade as a Naval Aviator. That close friend group only expanded when your best friend fell in love when you were in flight school. Nat and Jake are cute together, you can't deny that. It helps that you get along well with Jake. Sadly, where Jake Seresin goes, so does Javy Machado. You can fly with the man, be the perfect wingman, but when both your feet are on the ground, you can't stand him. You're so sure the feeling is mutual. 48 hours in a car with him teaches you differently. Javy Machado is sweet and funny and you might just be falling in love with him. Or have you been in love with him all along?

Themes: Stuck in the snow, showers, shower-thoughts, hate-to-love, stranded in the snow,

Warnings: Female!Reader This fic is for adults age 18 and older, only! There are some fairly spicy thoughts in this part and 100% spicy happenings in the next part! Please do not read if sexual intimacy is disturbing to you!

Word Count: 3938

Author Note: This is part one of two of Gypsy and Javy's story and was written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Writing Challenge! I had an absolute blast writing this fic for Trope #17, Stuck Together/Snowed in/Stranded. I hope you all love reading this fic as much as I loved writing it! All my thanks go to @desert-fern who was instrumental as I bounced ideas back and forth for this fic, as well as for beta-reading it for me!

Cross Posted on AO3 Here!

My Masterlist

It was supposed to be the start of a fabulous holiday - supposed to be, being the key words. It’s rare, honestly nigh on impossible for you to end up having vacation leave lined up at the same time as your friends. You’re in the Navy, you’re a pilot; it kind of comes with the territory. But what is the likelihood you’d find yourself stuck in a car in the middle of a Colorado snowstorm with none other than Javy Machado? You’re unsure who you should blame because the universe clearly has it out for you.

Well, it's either the universe or Natasha Fucking Trace. Honestly, between mystic powers controlling everything that has been or will be and Nat, you’d pick her any day. A part of you has some sympathy for her. It can’t be easy dating a guy and knowing your best friend and his can’t stand each other. It’s the truth, too. You can’t remember why or when you started to get angry at the sight of his smiling face. Still, it was probably sometime between when he asked you if you needed a booster seat to see out of the cockpit and when he blitzed you on the first of the many flights you’ve taken with him.

Why the fuck isn’t he going home to Louisiana? That’s what he usually does. God, if there’s anyone who’d know, it would be you. After all, you’ve been flying with Coyote Machado for the better part of the past decade. Every year, he’d cash in all his leave and fly home. Like clockwork, he’d return after the new year more infuriating than ever. But your knowledge of his behavior doesn’t explain why he’s in Colorado. You were both on an aircraft carrier in the Philippines, for fuck’s sake. There had to have been a transport to Louisiana via the East Coast. But against all odds, the two of you had been on the same transport and flight, hell, even the same bus to the terminal once you landed in Denver.

Now he’s staring at the same board you are, with flickering red signs as flight after flight gets marked as canceled. Including the one you were supposed to be on. It’s just your luck that Tash and Jake are reporting to Norfolk Naval Base right now. It’s just your luck that the only transport you’d been able to get on had landed in San Diego. And it’s just your luck that the cheapest flight you could get had been via Denver in the midst of what has to be the worst snowstorm the region has ever seen. Reception is spotty, but you huddle in a corner, praying to all the gods you don’t believe in that your call connects.

“Tash?” Her voice is grainy and barely audible, but god, if it doesn’t make you want to cry. “I’m in Denver, yeah. There’s a colossal snowstorm blowing in. My flight’s been canceled.”

“I don’t think I’m going to make it in time.”

“I know.”

“I know. I’ve missed you so much. But I don’t see a way for me to get out of here and get there in time?”

“Yeah, Javy’s here.” You can’t control your eye roll as you say his name. “Yeah, I’ll give him the phone.”

“Yo, Machado. Tash wants to talk to you.” He takes the phone from you like he doesn’t want to touch you, which shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

It’s loud and crowded at the airport, so you can’t hear a word of what he says to Nat. There’s nothing else to do but stand at the window and watch the snow fall and fall and fall. There’s already close to a foot accumulated on the ground, and while you’d been wishing for the snow in the heat and humidity of the ship, you hate it now.

“Here, Gypsy.” You accept the device with a half-smile. “Tash had a pretty good idea, y’know?”

You can’t help raising your eyebrow. Javy swallows, more than a little discomfited at your gimlet gaze. “She suggested we rent a car and drive out to Norfolk together.”

Eighteen hundred miles, and he wants to spend all of that time and distance stuck in a car with you? You scoff, “You couldn’t pay me to do that, Machado.”

“Yeah, I know.” There’s something sad and haunted in his eyes. “I know. Believe me, I do. But this isn’t about you and me. This is about Jake and Nat. They want us there, celebrating Christmas with them. So don’t think about doing this with me. Think about how you’re doing this for them.”

Damn him. Damn him for being right. “How are we going to get a car in this?” People are yelling at the poor airline staff behind the counter, kids are screaming, and Christmas Carols are pouring out of the speakers. It’s chaos - loud, unmitigated chaos.

“You leave that to me. You have your bags?” Before you can think or even respond, he’s cutting a swathe through the crowd, and you’re left standing near two Navy standard-issue duffel bags and your one small rolling suitcase. It takes half an hour before he comes back. In that half an hour, you find you’re glad you’d opted for carry-on bags because the mob at the counter waiting to collect check-in bags descends into an outright fistfight.

Javy’s rumpled, his sweater mussed when he lopes back to you, thankfully with car keys in hand. “I got ’em. We have to head down to the main concourse.”

“Anything to get out of this shitshow.” He chuckles and grabs your bags and his own despite your protests.

The car is old but functioning. It’s tiny, though. It's so small that you’re not sure he’ll fit behind the wheel. It can’t be comfortable when he does end up in the car. It looks like his knees are pressed against his chest, even with the seat pushed back as far as it can go. You’re in the passenger seat because he refused to let you drive, and as expected, you’re surrounded by snow the minute the car leaves the parking garage. Visibility is shit, and it feels like the car is moving at a glacial pace. You’re surprised the roads are open at all, and to add insult to injury, you’re sitting in silence. The radio isn’t working, there is more snow - this time of the feedback variety, ironically - and the car is old, so there is no auxiliary cable or USB cable to connect your phone to. And, well, you’re not a fan of the man you’re stuck in the car with for the next 24 to 36 hours, so the less conversation you have, the better. It’s not even like you can read. You’ve only been on the road for an hour at most when the sun sets. But the roads are still open, and traffic is still moving.

As the minutes turn into an hour on the dark, snow-covered roads, you feel your exhaustion setting in. You’ve never slept well on planes - go figure that ninety percent of the time you’re in a cockpit, you’re flying - but flying commercial somehow makes it work. Strap yourself into a jump seat on a cargo plane, and you’re out like a light. Sleeping on a carrier with planes taking off round the clock and midshipmen screaming outside the door, you’re snoring like a baby. But flying economy? Forget about it. So, besides the few hours of fitful sleep you’d gotten on the cargo plane - because you can’t sleep where Javy Machado can make fun of you - you’ve been awake for nearly 48 hours. Your eyes feel itchy and hot, each blink torturous as you fight exhaustion. The car is so warm, and Javy's silent. Even he can't object if you rest your eyes a little, right?

You wake up to a roar of the word, ‘SHIT’, echoing through the car. You startle, and if you were a cat, you’d be stuck to the upper upholstery, fur ruffled and back arched. A coat covers your lap, the soft, rich wool imbued with spicy cologne. It has to be Javy's coat. When did that get there? The visibility out of the windshield is even worse, if possible, and Coyote’s arms are corded as they clutch the wheel in an iron grip.

“Hey, how long was I out?” He doesn’t even look at you when usually he’d be more than ready to tease you on how you probably have drool on your face.

“Coyote? ‘Yote? Hey?!”

“Javy? What’s going on?” You place your hand on his arm, pretending not to notice how firm and warm it is under the bunched-up sleeves of the soft sweater he’s wearing. “Javy, you’re scaring me. C’mon. Tell me what’s happening. What’s a wingwoman for if she can’t help?”

“We’re somewhere in Kansas, and the snow makes this really hard.” There’s something unreadable in the expression on his face as he snarls at the other, far slower drivers on the road in front of you.

“We should stop for the night then.”

“No.” He snarls the words at you, and that’s when you know something is wrong. “No, I can keep going.”

“Javy, maybe you can, but I can’t. I need to take a break, hit the head, and stretch my legs.”

He doesn’t respond, content to make you worry the longer the silence spirals between you like an oppressive living thing. He pulls off the highway when the next exit presents itself. The motel he pulls up to on the side of the road is rough-looking. It’s small and old, but at least it smells clean, or well, at least clean-ish. As luck would have it - because your luck couldn't be any shittier - there’s only one room left for the night. You slap your credit card down on the counter before he can object. He’s Javy Machado. You know what he’s like better than almost anyone else. You may not like him very much, but you can read all of the signs. He’s not the type to let a woman pay for anything, not when he can pay for her. He can take it up with you when he’s not acting weird.

You push him into the shower once you’re in the room, content to just sprawl out on the bed until he’s done. Really, all you're hoping is that the hot water is enough to snap him out of this eerily quiet, angry mood and back to the pain in your ass you're used to. When he steps out, it’s wrapped in one of the motel’s paper-thin towels, and you have to avert your eyes. There’s just a shadow of a smirk on his face as you pass under his arm with all of your clothes bundled up against your chest, trying and failing to avoid making eye contact with all of his wet, glistening muscles. It takes you far too long for your brain to reboot after that sight, and mortification and anger are your companions as you hurriedly strip off your snow-laden clothes.

You’re grumbling the entire time it takes the shower to heat up because it is not fair that Javy Machado looks like that under his uniform. No wonder every girl within a ten-mile radius of base wants to get into his pants. You step into the shower nearly too early, stifling squeals as the too-cold water splatters across your skin. After a few minutes of determined shivering, you finally step under the warming water, coming out in a steady, roaring stream. At least it’s getting hot now, though it’s not as hot as you’d like. You let the spray beat your muscles into submission, relishing the first moment you’ve had by yourself since you left the carrier fleet hours ago. But you’re left in peace only for a few moments. Unbidden, your one-track mind finds its thoughts consumed by Javy Machado again. It starts off with an innocuous thought, “How did a man that large fit into this tiny shower? He could probably see over the curtain rod!” Then you’re wondering if he’s alright. But as your soapy hands trace over your skin, you start to imagine other things.

You start to imagine water droplets sliding over the ridges of his muscles, skating over defined abs, and collecting in the dip of his collar bones. His hands are big and calloused as they lather soap across his skin and then over yours. Shit! When did you start dreaming of yourself in the shower with Javy Machado? There’s an ache in your pelvis as you clench your thighs together as you dream of how those calloused fingers feel on your skin. You get yanked violently out of the vision when the water goes cold on you. It feels like you’ve been immersed in one of the snowbanks outside. You almost fall as you step out of the shower, but it’s silent. Your face is flushed in the fogged-up mirror, your eyes fever bright as your blood pulses in your veins in the same rhythm as your aching cunt. You inhale and exhale raggedly, trying to get your libido under control. Please let there be a bar near Nat and Jake’s place - please - you need to get fucked so bad that you’re fantasizing about your wingman, of all people, now.

It’s getting cold in the bathroom as the steam dissipates when you finally pull yourself together and get dressed fast in a bid to escape the cold. But it is still silent outside the bathroom - almost too silent. You expect laughter at the very least when you open the door because your warmest pajamas are covered in dancing penguins. Instead, Javy’s sitting on the bed, staring out the open window at the milling snow, looking for all the world like he’s lost something he’s just found.

It’s cold in the room, the motel’s shitty heating is barely able to combat the frigid snow outside, and he’s not wearing a shirt. But he doesn’t even notice the gooseflesh on the smooth, broad expanse of his back and chest. The cold blue light reflecting off of the snow piling up outside makes the room even colder, casting deep purplish shadows over his face and making the room eerie. You check that the door is latched and bolted before walking back towards Javy. He doesn’t move a muscle when you take his hands in your own. They’re like ice. He doesn’t even seem to care when you put the pillows down and fish one of your warm fleece blankets out of your bag. Bless Nat and Jake for not having a fully set up guest room yet because there’s no way you’re sleeping in this bed using sheets you’re not sure are clean. The blankets you brought are going to be perfect for the night. He doesn’t move or do anything until you intertwine your fingers with his own and tug on his arm's broad, burly expanse. He lists to the side without protest, and now you know something is wrong. Javy's not the type to do anything quietly. He's the type to shit-talk all the way while flirting endlessly. He turns towards you as you tuck the blanket around his big form, and when you move to pull another blanket out, his hand tugs you in until you’re in his arms.

The pinched furrow creasing his brow finally dissipates slightly. Something’s wrong, and you’re not sure what it is. If this helps, you’ll stay where you are. After all, you’ve slept in far more uncomfortable beds with much worse companions. Javy smells incredible, like soap, cologne, and something you can't place. You curl in closer despite yourself, letting him drag the blanket even further up around your shoulders. Everything is muffled around you. All you can hear is your breath and the soothing thud of his heart. It would be easy to curl in and fall asleep, but you can’t until you know your wingman is alright. But he seems content to lie there, brown eyes glittering with emotions you couldn’t read even if you tried. There’s barely any space between the two of you. Every breath you take has your chest brushing against his.

With the howling wind and the tink of snow against the window, you feel like you’re in a dream. Finally, Javy’s eyes close, even if he is still indescribably tense. You can feel it in the arms wrapped around you and in the muscles jumping in his jaw. His eyes fly open when your fingers trace the stressed tendons lightly.

“What’re you doing, Gypsy?” You’re unsure how to respond; instead, you trace your fingers over the furrow in his brow. Maybe your touch will wipe the stress frown away from his usually jovial face?

“You’re being awfully sweet, Gyppie.” You snort at the diminutive form of your already short callsign. “And here, I thought you hated me.”

Your gasp is barely audible, but you’re sure he can hear it anyway. “You never let it affect things between us when we fly, but I know you can’t stand me.”

“I’ve spent over a decade wondering why.” His next exhale is a harsh whoosh of breath. “But you’ve never told me, and right now, I think I know exactly why. It’s just me, isn’t it, Gyp? Just me and everything that I am.”

Your voice feels stuck. Trapped, lost, chained up behind a decade of hatred, hatred which wavers like it’s standing on a stool that may just have had all of its legs cut out from under it. You curl into Javy’s embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist like it’ll show him you feel differently. Because you do. At first, you had hated Javy Machado. You hated his effortless grace, charm, and ability to pick up concepts you’d had to work to understand yourself. But then he’d been persistent, and you’d been thrust into his company by the presence of Nat and Jake.

That’s when you’d been able to see past the bravado, the mask he put on every day. That’s when you’d fallen headlong into a more profound and long-lasting crush than any relationship you’d found yourself in. But by the time you realized your feelings, he’d picked up on your stand-offish behavior and realized he couldn’t befriend you. Your crush never faded, but it’s evident that Javy had noticed your initial feelings and acted accordingly. But why would he blame everything that happened on himself?

“I know you’re probably wondering why I’m not home for the holidays right now.” What does that have to do with what he was just talking about? “Just chalk it up to another textbook case of me being myself.”

“I can't say I didn't wonder. But it's not my place to poke and pry. Why you're not heading home to Mama Machado is your business.”

“But you can't deny that you're curious, can you?” You shrug as much as you can with your arms wrapped around him.

“Of course you're curious. But how could I have gone home, Gyppie? How?” There's so much pain in his voice as he growls the words out.

He goes silent then, a frown creasing his face as his jaw moves under your fingertips. Your gentle touch doesn’t seem to bother him, just like the prickle of his stubble doesn’t bother you. In another world, in another life, could you have been sleeping every night in his arms like this? You’re not sure you deserve it. Javy was right earlier. You’ve been rude ever since the day you met him. Would anything have changed if you’d acted differently? If you’d been shy and withdrawn instead of angry and argumentative? That water’s long since flowed under the bridge. Too much time, too much history, too much animosity. All you can hope to do is listen. For your wingman, that’s the least you can do.

But your little nap in the car hadn’t been of much use. The longer you spend pressed against the human equivalent of a space heater, the sleepier you feel. You have to stay awake. This could be your one chance to go from rivals or enemies or colleagues to friends. Maybe you could even casually ask Javy to grab a beer after the holidays? But the first step to all of that is to stay awake.

His hands slide up until they're cradling the back of your head, pulling your face level to his own.

“You're not falling asleep on me, are you, Gyppie?” You shake your head wordlessly, captivated by how you can feel his breath against your lips, practically taste the mint from his toothpaste, and how you could kiss him if you leaned in just a bit further.

“It's okay if you do. You barely slept on the plane. My problems don't mean a thing in the face of your exhaustion.” Once again, you're speechless. How is he so selfless? How did you not notice before this very moment?

“I'm okay, Javy. Tell me one thing that's bothering you, the most important thing.” Your voice is the barest whisper, a sigh as he maneuvers you closer and traps your feet between his calves.

“Well, your feet are like itty-bitty ice cubes, Gyppie. The fuck did you do? Stick ‘em in a snowbank before you get into bed?” You gasp and growl playfully at him, pushing at his chest until he pulls you in even closer.

“But in all seriousness, you've been wondering why I didn't go home.” His words are expelled on exhales of breath, just as quiet as yours were earlier, spilling out in stops and starts. “I can't go home, Gyppie. My brother's wedding is on Christmas Day. But it's not that I'm against my brother's marriage. It's more like his fiancée is against having me there.”

You can’t believe anyone would go so far as to ban Javy from his brother's wedding just because she didn't want him there. You cup his jaw gently, letting your hand curl around to cradle the back of his in a position mirroring how he's still holding you.

“You want to know the kicker, Gyppie? She was my fiancée first. She dumped me because she couldn't stand the deployments and fell into bed with my brother days after.”

“What a stupid thing to do.” You're no longer looking into his eyes, focused on his collarbones. “That was a dumb move, and you know it, Machado. She just alienated herself from most of your family. Your Mama first and foremost.”

His laughter has you giggling, too. When your laughter and his finally taper off, you're left to marvel at how much things have changed.

“You want to know the best part?” You hum in response. “The reason why we broke up was because I was already in love with someone else.”

He doesn’t wait for you to ask or even allow you a chance to get past your shock. His hands tip your head up again until you're face to face, and he kisses you, slow and sweet. Your moan takes you by surprise as you try to pull him even closer, letting him imprison you in his embrace.

“Fuck, this Christmas would've been so different if I'd just told you how much I loved you before we left flight school, Gyppie.”

This time, you tug him in, kissing him slow and sweet until there's molten lava in your veins and there's snow in your mind. It's beginning to feel like a holly jolly Christmas indeed.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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