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#that and love loop....i’ll marry them both
saerins · 2 months
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⋆୨ chapter six ୧˚ redefines in every way what love is
⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter five - if not for this love of mine <> next: chapter seven - till forever falls apart ୧˚
⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?
ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 13.2k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, manipulation, mostly from sae’s (& mirin’s) pov | notes: okay i’ve finally finished it !! sorry for the super long break but real life had a chokehold on me (aka my job sucks) </3 anyway ! hope you enjoy sae’s pov , heh he’s so bad at relationships but sorry i love him <3 next chapter should be the last so ^_^
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Sae & Mirin; 17.
It was a peculiar feeling.
Up until that point, whatever interest Sae had in life centred around soccer. Around being the best. Needless to say, when his parents weren’t too happy about both their sons not wanting to take over the family business, Sae took the brunt of it all.
His fingers idly traced circles around the injury on his ankle—the injury caused by another player perpetrated by his parents. It was honestly laughable; the extent to which his parents would go to to have him submit to their will.
“Hey, handsome and gloomy.”
There was that voice he loved to hear. It was silly how easy it was for a special someone to make him smile. A warm pair of arms wrapped themselves around his neck from behind, pressing her weight down on top of him.
“Yes, pretty?”
Mirin laughed, that smile lighting up her features. Her lips pressed a kiss against his cheek before she settled beside him.
They were sitting on top of the school building—after lessons, because Mirin had strict parents who would kill her if she ever skipped class.
“Look at you, moping up here all on your own, ignoring your girlfriend,” she mused, body swaying from side to side before her head eventually rested on his shoulder. A sigh left her lips, the graduation looming upon them catching up to her. 
Sae chuckled, pressing a soft kiss onto the top of her head, both of them relishing in the moment. There was an uneasiness that pressed in the air around them, but it was one that Sae chose to ignore. Mirin had a lot of things on her mind that she liked to keep to herself, and this was something that happened very often. It could be because of her overbearing parents, but Sae never minded that.
“Sae, can I ask you something?”
It was a timid tone that he wasn’t used to, but he let it slide.
“Anything.”
“Ten years from now, would you still love me the same?” It was a question that made Sae snort, because he didn’t realise Mirin would talk about the future. She wasn’t one to do so. She nudged him on the arm, laughing along with him because it was hard for her to be all down when she was around him. “Hey, I’m serious, ten years from now, would you still love this annoying, hard headed girlfriend of yours?”
At that time, it wasn’t a hard question. At that time, all Sae could see and care about was Mirin. There was never a doubt in his mind.
So he looked her in the eye, his pinky finger looped around hers.
“Ten years from now, huh? Think I would’ve married you by then.”
Mirin smiled, the most genuine one she ever let loose in her life. Only because at that moment, she felt his sincerity. The only person who treated her with any sort of decency in the way that she needed. In the face of her strict family, with Sae, she had nothing to fear. He was all she needed.
“I’ll hold you to it, Itoshi Sae.”
Sae chuckled, leaning down to kiss Mirin on the lips. “Whatever you say, Mrs Itoshi.”
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A few months ago.
The news was broken to him like he was watching a news program and the news anchor was reporting on some trivial matter.
As always, his father said such a thing oh so casually, eating away at his lamb chop and then swiftly switching the subject to wedding preparations, as if his son was a tool that he could command at will.
“What did you just say?”
Because surely Sae heard him wrongly? Surely his father did not just mention that he was to be married to a stranger he barely knew?
This was his life, wasn’t it?
“I expect you to behave, do you understand?” His father responds, ignoring Sae’s question completely. He knew his son heard him, he said it loud and clear after all. “Anyway, we’ll pay fifty-fifty and—”
“No.”
There was a threat in his father’s glare, but it was one that Sae was way too used to.
“Excuse me?”
“I don’t care why you need this stupid marriage to go through but I’m not doing it.”
It was just laughable; there wasn’t any panic evident in his father’s expression. Sae should’ve known, he could already feel what was coming. If anything, his father was always prepared. It was plans on top of plans, a contingency for every situation.
“Either do this, or I’ll get Rin instead. It’ll be a pain, but don’t think I won’t do it.”
There were a lot of things Sae hated his father for, but what he hated the most was how Rin had to be brought into the conversation as a threat whenever he didn’t get his way. He knew it was the only way to control Sae, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.
“Honey! Stop speaking like that… Sae, please try to understand, this will be a huge opportunity. It’s the least you owe us, hm?”
And Sae didn’t even want to think about his mother. The one who always went along with everything because she was in love with the money she married into. The one who always used faux concern as a tool to ease Sae into his father’s plans.
In the end, neither of them cared for their kids. They were only seen as heirs. Like they owed them for being born. That they were only supposed to unconditionally go along with whatever orders they were given without a second thought. They wanted robots more than actual children, it seemed.
“You lost your shot, do you want Rin to lose his too?”
It was almost all too clear who sabotaged Sae’s chance at being a pro footballer. All it took was a single moment of disobedience from Sae and sponsorship of an entire year’s worth of tuition to one of his rivals to get his leg too injured to play in comfort.
As much as it sucked, all three of them knew Sae’s answer. And just like that, his father was victorious.
“Besides, Y/N seems to be excited for this,” his mother said, trying to switch the subject.
“I’m not fucking marrying her. I don’t even know her.” The words flew out of his mouth before he even realised it.
Maybe it had something to do with Mirin. With that rumour he heard going around that she was either already back in Japan or she was coming back soon. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Sae had been waiting for her this whole time, that she was the only one he ever loved.
Of course, none of that would change his parents’ minds. Consuming your family’s company would bring them a ton of uplift that could sustain their business for many years to come, something a money-greedy businessman would go to extreme lengths to get. So it didn’t matter if Mirin’s family could also bring in benefits in terms of cooperation—it would never amount to yours.
And it was wrong. It was wrong of Sae to vent all of his hatred to the fact that you existed, but it was the first thing that came to mind. 
Why did you have to exist?
“Maybe we should just pull Rin out then, get him to come back here and handle all this.” His father knew not to back down.
“Sae, be a good boy and listen to us, okay? How about this—if it ever gets too bad, we’ll look into a divorce in the future, hm?” His mother was just useless, but she did at least consider how he could get out of it. Even if it would prove to be difficult in the future.
Giving up entirely, Sae walked out of the front door. There was no way out of it, for now. Not without consequences. Dire ones. For Rin.
Pulling out Oliver’s contact, Sae hit the call button, with Oliver picking up right as he got into a cab.
“Meet you guys at our usual. I need a fucking drink.”
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Day of the wedding.
To say that Sae had cold feet would be an understatement.
His marriage to you would be within the next few hours. After what, a couple months of informing him that they’d arranged him to marry the daughter of their close university friends? And they left a very not-so-subtle hint that they’d force Rin back to marry her if Sae didn’t comply.
Sae realised that your family’s company rivals his own, but who would’ve thought that their sudden yield to the Itoshis wanting to buy the company would result in so much shit being passed onto Sae himself?
There were options presented to him to meet you beforehand. All of which you had agreed to (or so his parents said) and all of which he had declined. He really didn’t have the intention of playing nice with you, or acting like he cared about you. To Sae, all you were was someone standing in between the possibility of him and Mirin.
But he did see you as you walked to the venue all on your own. Without a car or your parents, dressed in a loose white sleeveless top and jeans, buying a pack of tissues from the old man across the road, giving him entirely too much money for a three-pack and then refusing the change.
Teal eyes continued observing you as the old man bowed in gratitude, and your demeanour suggested that it probably wasn’t the first time you were giving money out like charity. Sae noticed the pair of half moon crescents as you smiled, the way it lit up your entire face.
If he thought hard enough, maybe he could remember that one time you saw each other when you were kids. Just that once. He was five. You were four. He vaguely remembered you excitedly chattering away to him about something. Sae doubted you remembered any of that though. It was only once and even he didn’t recall anything about it until today.
Tearing his eyes away from you, he walked away from the ledge of the window at his dressing room, sitting on the edge of the bed, idly staring at his phone, at the messages blowing it up, mostly of Oliver and Otoya in the groupchat, saying how Mirin was actually back.
If there was one thing his friends were good at, it was detective work that they didn’t need to do. Because by now, Sae didn’t want to know.
As much as he hated his circumstances, as much as he didn’t like this situation, he was going to be a married man soon. As much as he didn’t want to, he would rather forget about Mirin sooner than later. It would only serve more hurt if he chose the latter anyway.
Still, false hope wasn’t what he wanted to give you. There was nothing that he could think of that would persuade him to love anyone else but her. That was exactly why he found himself outside your dressing room, waiting to speak to you.
Your sister was with you, and Sae kept his thoughts to himself; he remembered your earlier smile. You were the prettier one in his eyes. That didn’t change what he had to do regardless. And both of you are similar in a frustrating way—both of you like to mask your troubles with your smiles.
Maybe you didn’t want this either, then?
“Hi, um, it’s nice to meet you.”
You sounded like the most awkward person in the world. Not that it mattered. Maybe the awkward distance between the two of you would work in his favour then.
“I wanted to set things straight before we go through with anything.”
Your expression wasn’t one of happiness to begin with, but the moment he said his piece, your face looked like all the blood drained from it. Sae averted his gaze. He didn’t like hurting anyone, and surely he didn’t care for you just yet, but this was better than giving you any sort of hope.
He needed to keep it up. Even after today. Tonight, tomorrow and everyday. Until he could see that you understand where this marriage would go; absolutely nowhere, but that both of you had to stay anyway.
But your parents had impeccable timing, coming over to the room right as he was exiting. That just meant he had to entertain your family for a few more seconds, nothing too difficult. He had been dealing with his father for his whole life after all.
“So, this is the first time you’re meeting our Y/N right? What do you think, son?” Your father sounded like his father when he was trying to play nice. Suddenly it made sense that they would be in cahoots to force their kids together.
“Your daughter is…” Sae lost himself in thought for a while, thinking back to that smile he saw on you, that genuine smile when you were helping someone. Not this fake one you have plastered on to make it seem like everything was okay. You had no obligation to cover for his actions but you did it anyway. “Pretty.”
And even prettier when she’s actually smiling, he thought to himself as he retreated back to his own dressing room.
Later on during the wedding reception, Sae tried his best to act the part of a happy husband. It was hard though, considering how stiff and awkward you were. You really didn’t have talent for being an actress. He let slip a few harsh reminders, but he was careful not to get too into it—last thing he needed was for you to cry.
You were nothing to him. Nothing but the one he had to marry to get his parents off him and his brother’s back.
So why did he feel a tinge of something when he caught your best friend staring? Mikage Reo, not a bad catch himself, and he had been your best friend since elementary school, if Sae recalled correctly.
That was all he could think about when he stormed back to the dressing room, wantonly irritated by his father and mildly annoyed by your concern. The only reason he could think of for being angry was the lingering feelings of an unresolved first love.
The only one he thought he would marry, would watch as she walked down the aisle like a princess out of a fairytale. The only one who taught him love and gave him the most treasured memories of his youth. The only one who could, at this moment, receive his kindness while everyone else would be dead in his eyes.
And of course the universe would perpetuate such a connection; his phone buzzed with notifications from Mirin. An almost empty thread opened up, and he was reminded of when he tried to forget her when she dated another guy while she was overseas. But how could he really forget her when she came back and told him she couldn’t forget about him either? That if it wasn’t too much, if he could wait for her to come back?
Sae won’t deny that there was a mix of emotions about it, that Karasu had told him many times before he thought she was just leading him on, that she wanted a comfortable failsafe for when she inevitably came back and didn’t want to be alone.
That was the key reason why they drifted.
And now, she came back. She came back and she didn’t get her invite because Sae threw it in the trash because even if he didn’t know you, it was common sense that he couldn’t invite Mirin—not when she was the only person capable of changing his mind. Not when he knew she wouldn’t be afraid to voice herself.
Sae didn’t particularly like you, but he wasn’t going to deliberately hurt you that way. He was sure he would upset you in many other ways, unintentionally, but he told himself he wouldn’t do that to you.
As he looked at her chat thread, at his possible responses—how could i ever forget? and i wish it was you and many more he didn’t have the energy to type out—Sae swallowed the lump in his throat. There was a battle going on in his head; the one that knew what was right and the one that wanted to go with his heart.
He succumbed to both.
Staring at his i miss you, he started to remember how hard you tried to keep up with him earlier that day, how you probably tried to stay at his good side.
With his head in his hands, he felt the familiar flow of tears threatening to unveil—it was a hard decision but he had to make it.
That was it. Sae had decided. He had to let go of Mirin and whatever promises they made.
She had to stay in the past.
As he looked at her nickname on his phone, he wished he could will the memories away. Even as he saw her response. Even as he knew the way she told him she missed him too would haunt him for a good while.
Goodbye.
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Stepping into the house you two would share felt more than just a little uneasy. Both of you had never been in the same room before today and now your parents expected the both of you to just be okay living together.
Maybe it was a little too much of Sae to just take the master bedroom and banish you to the other one, but it had been a long day and he really wasn’t a saint. He had expected you to argue back but you didn’t, and that was fine with him—maybe once he cleared his head he could think of ways to make it so things were fairer to you but not now.
Not when he was a mix of emotions just threatening to explode.
It was especially perplexing when he got into the room and started checking it out that he found his things already there, unpacked for him, a familiar black box he had once kept precious sitting on the study desk. He didn’t have to open it to know what was inside.
Apart from pictures with Rin, he really should just burn everything else.
Next time. It was always a problem for next time because he was way too annoyed at life for everything else. Looking at it was just a reminder, too, of a life he had once craved and he couldn’t move forward if it was still there.
Yeah, yeah, he’d burn it all to ashes next time and leave it all in the past like he planned.
The next few days after that, count Sae mildly surprised when you kept trying in subtle ways to ease the tension between the two of you.
There were a few things you did; you kept at your good mornings, and on the days you were feeling particularly courageous you bothered to ask him what he wanted for dinner. He didn’t reciprocate much, only contributed his mornings and told you he didn’t need dinner (although he would note how delicious the food you cooked smelled when he came home afterwards).
There was something strange about the way you made him feel—he didn’t understand where you got the energy to keep trying when you knew this wasn’t what either of you wanted. It was easy enough for him to tell that your parents forced you into this too, but what wasn’t easy was trying to see why you were so good.
What was even more frustrating was the sense of comfort he felt. It was alarming. He didn’t know why it was there. But he found himself trying to reject it.
“Isn’t this supposed to be your honeymoon period or something?”
“C’mon, Oliver, they don’t even sleep in the same room,” Otoya sighed, getting bored of the subject. He was also getting tired of watching Sae’s unenthused face every night.
Ever since he got married, he hasn’t once spent a normal night in. He just didn’t think he had any energy to spend on trying to be cordial with you. Not when a million things are still running through his head in a loop.
It was only 8.30pm, and both Oliver and Otoya were already bringing the big liquor bottles out, the lights in the karaoke room dimming.
“Where’s Karasu?”
“Busy again, with god knows what.” Otoya always sounded disinterested in anything and everything. “Where’s the girls?”
The girls, meaning the usual two that they had as fuck buddies, something Sae didn’t care for. That could be all Otoya cared for, actually.
“On the way,” Oliver replied, pouring the whisky into the shot glasses on the table. Three, even though Sae didn’t want any. “By the way,” Oliver said, a hint of mischief in his eyes as he turned to look at Sae. “I have a special guest for you.”
“What?” Sae was entirely too tired to have time to play another one of Oliver’s mind games.
Oliver was already downing a shot for no reason, and Sae chalked it up to being under the constant pressure of being a big shot lawyer’s son.
“That’s who I asked Karasu to get before coming here,” Oliver grinned, sliding a shot glass over to Sae.
Sae ignored it. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Come on, don’t play dumb,” Oliver groaned, throwing his head back against the leather seats dramatically. “Mirin? The name ring a bell?”
It did more than ring a bell, actually. It made Sae’s heart stop, made him speechless. Made Otoya snicker at his reaction.
“Thought I’d offer some incentive to cheer you up from that boring loveless marriage of yours,” Oliver commented, tossing a pack of cigarettes onto the table and lighting one up.
If Sae was being completely honest, he did want to see Mirin. He hadn’t seen her for so many years, he found a passing thought that wondered if she was still as pretty as he remembered, if she still scrunched her nose in that cute way she did and if she still used the same perfume that he liked.
But for some reason, Sae kept thinking back to you. What would you think if you found out? Somehow, he realised maybe that fact alone could make you cry. And somehow, for some abstract reason he couldn’t make out, he wasn’t okay with that.
In the background, he could faintly make out the conversation between Otoya and Oliver, something about how Otoya thought Mirin looked hot from her pictures, and how Oliver encouraged the thought, saying shit like “wait till you see her in real life.”
Normally, he’d feel like punching those who dared to talk about Mirin like that, but at that moment all he felt was nausea. In a weird turn of events, he kind of actually wanted to punch Oliver for taking a subtle dig at you. You were a good person. Even if Sae wasn’t particularly innocent at treating you less than you deserve.
Nausea nausea nausea.
It got even worse when seconds later, Karasu strolled through their door, a smirk on his face aimed at Sae.
“She’s in the restroom freshening up,” Karasu said, winking this time, Oliver whistling in anticipation.
His head was in a mess, wanting to bolt out of there straight away but failing to do so in time because the next minute, Sae watched as his first love walked through the door, looking beautiful as ever.
“Wow, four handsome guys in the room with me, huh?”
She’d gotten flirtier than he remembered. And she wasn’t directly talking to him yet, which was a relief for him.
“Yeah darling, wanna help us take a pic?” Oliver smirked, tossing her his phone.
Sae was just in a daze, looking at the camera as Mirin snapped a picture, her eyes lingering over him through the phone. If he wasn’t married, he was sure he would’ve reacted differently, but as things stood, this was wrong.
The moment Oliver suggested Mirin sit next to Sae for a picture, Sae found himself walking towards the door, muttering an excuse about how he had another appointment and leaving.
“Hey Sae, wait up—”
Mirin’s voice was loud and clear as she chased him out the door but Sae was faster. He was back into his car and driving back home, back to you, before he even made sense of it all.
When he walked through the front door, ready to just pass out on the bed because he had too many surprises earlier, he could smell the homemade cooking—the same one that made him feel nice coming home to. It was more prominent than usual.
Of course it was, because he could see the untouched food as he walked past the dining room. You were there, sitting there, a little pathetic but cute, and Sae didn’t really know what to do.
“Why haven’t you eaten?”
And you seemed a little more determined than usual, although the trembling of your fingers said otherwise. You were that easily scared of him?
“I was waiting for you.”
It was a simple thing, really. A wife waiting for her husband to get home first before eating. But to Sae, it was inexplicable. There was never any instance where he had an easy time going home, especially before this. Going home meant listening to his parents argue over money and having to pretend he didn’t hear it and have to watch them take the same stance as though he didn’t just hear their divide. Home-cooked food had lost its meaning for Sae a long time ago when all he had were private chefs cooking with technique and just that.
Since when did going home mean there would be a warm dinner waiting for him with so much effort put into picking out what he liked? Did you pay attention to his takeout whenever he ordered in?
“I already ate.”
There it was—that denial again that Sae just couldn’t seem to get rid of. Because wouldn’t all marriages dissolve into what his parents had without a strong foundation? They never loved each other, that much Sae could tell. For the longest time, he had thought maybe for once, someone could have a happy family if they actually felt the same about each other and for the longest time that person to him was Mirin.
The same girl he ignored earlier. The same girl he brushed past to get home to you. The same girl who didn’t seem to have as much of a hold over him as he thought after he saw her in the flesh.
Maybe that was why he found himself wanting to try. He had rejected you many times, relegating you to the other end of the house so he didn’t have to see you and feel guilty all the time. It was pathetic of him, yeah, and he was sorry. And call him a coward but he didn’t know how to handle any of this like a normal person would. Normal people probably wouldn’t have to be forced to marry a stranger though.
For once in his life, Sae found himself trying. Trying something he was so averse to in the first place. Trying something that he found so curious because you managed to bring it out of him.
Your efforts didn’t have to be big. It was all so small, so subtle. He saw everything and he tried to reject it—so why is he here now, picking the meat off the bones for you? You seemed so nervous he was afraid you might miss a bone and hurt yourself.
Which made no sense because you didn’t mean anything to him. Right?
So why did he feel the familiar tug on his lips, the smile threatening to form just from a simple dinner, the same way you managed to tug on his heartstrings?
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When Sae heard you asking him for a favour, he thought you might’ve been joking. But your demeanour suggested you might not be. It was kind of weird, how you claimed that it was your parents who wanted to check up on the marriage and so you said that you needed Sae to cooperate, but at the same time you looked absolutely gleeful at the thought of having some semblance of normalcy in your married life with him.
He did you a favour by not calling you out for it.
But he couldn’t stop himself from being curious, from wondering what you looked like if he really threw you a bone. That was the driving force behind his close proximity to you, so close he could smell the shampoo off your hair and appreciate the way your breath hitched in your throat.
Cute.
He kept that to himself too, kept entirely way too many opinions of you to himself instead of sharing them with you.
“How are they gonna believe a thing when you’re that awkward around me?”
He gave a mental reminder to himself: maybe he should help you work on that.
But the moment you brought up finances, a bad feeling lurked in the back of his head. Just a gut feeling, if anything. Maybe it was because he was brought up in a similar household that he could tell when other people had bad intentions.
Your parents weren’t exempt from it, he was sure. They treated you like trash, from what he heard earlier, and he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to rid what would make your life harder.
You were his wife, after all.
“You want me to… transfer all my money into this account?”
He got it, it was a tough ask. Especially since Sae had been none too nice to you since you got married, but for this one, he was adamant. So you did. You gave him all your money like he asked and he really needed to teach you not to be so naive around other people but maybe you felt the same pull as he did, the overwhelming urge to trust even though it wasn’t so much rightfully earned yet.
Stupidly, he felt just that little bit of excitement creeping up inside him at the notion of actually getting a possibly normal marriage to a perfectly good person until his phone vibrated and he saw the name he was hoping he would never have to deal with again.
Mirin wanted to meet.
And if she had not texted to say it was urgent, Sae probably would’ve ignored it. But they spent a chunk of their youth together and it was way too much for him to forget all in a few days.
Still, he didn’t want to give in so easily.
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As the days passed, it was strange how easy it was to warm up to you. It was as though the friction between you never existed in the first place.
Somehow, it felt like the both of you were learning as you went through with it—a marriage where you both were learning to be friends first, and Sae never actually knew how much he needed that, how much he enjoyed it.
He didn’t think he’d like it one bit.
But there he was, constantly texting you most times because you were the only person he didn’t mind speaking to nowadays. Well, you and Rin. Maybe Oliver, but after his last stunt he didn’t really want to speak to him.
Sae sighed as he texted you that he’d be coming home late. The frames already came through the mail anyway, he suspected you’d have a good time hanging the photos up everywhere. You loved taking pictures that day after all.
“Wife checking up on you?”
Mirin’s question sounded innocent, but it was enough to irk Sae. To him, it sounded invasive.
“What did you need?” Because she didn’t need to know anything about you. Sae didn’t want her to; Mirin was in the past and he wanted to make sure it stayed that way.
This entire meeting was set up only because perhaps Sae thought she didn’t warrant herself a bad reception from him. She didn’t do anything wrong.
And neither was he, so why was he afraid to just be upfront with you and tell you about Mirin?
Seemingly taken aback by his tone, Mirin looked away nervously. This was a weird setting to be in for someone who said they were upset. Sae had expected a quiet cafe or maybe even a park, not a restaurant at a five-star hotel.
Then again, this was Mirin. Someone who had been brought up being able to enjoy everything to its finest.
“I just needed a friend, that’s all.”
A sure-fire way to earn his sympathy was right there in front of him. Sure, they might have drifted for a while, but it wasn’t like Sae thought she was a bad person. She always used to be strong on her own, steadfast, never needed anything or anyone that sometimes Sae felt like he wasn’t even needed.
Yet there she was, tears spilling down her face and trying to smile and suddenly Sae couldn’t continue being so harsh anymore.
A friend was all he was going to be. It was all he would allow himself to be. The entire night, all he could think about was how much he had missed this whole time—a lot had changed the last few years. The happy family he once knew Mirin’s to be was no more, an unfaithful mother took care of that. And apparently, her father had been on a downward spiral ever since. It was why she moved back, to take care of him.
“But sometimes it gets to be too much, you know?” She was sobbing, and Sae could only watch helplessly. It was not something he was familiar with, but he knew Mirin—she wasn’t someone who would share something like this to anyone. The fact she had called him out of the blue would allude to the fact that she didn’t want to tell anyone else.
It was a lot for him to take in; just imagining being in her shoes, having a father who spiralled into nothing and refused to get back to work, having to take care of him while managing her own shit—Sae didn’t know if he would be that filial at all, but then again, his father was a lot less of one than hers was.
“Anyway,” she sniffled, wiping her tears away and trying to smile. “How’s married life? Y/N, is it?”
Sae cleared his throat, realising that he probably had offered no words to Mirin’s predicament. It was a weird thing, talking to your ex about your current wife. It made him feel like he really shouldn’t be here somehow. “Yeah, that’s her, and it’s great.”
He wasn’t even going to bother masking the awkwardness of the subject.
And Mirin wasn’t going to let up.
“Is she… good to you?”
Good was an understatement. Sae thought you were phenomenal. You didn’t harbour any ill intentions toward him even though he deserved it. You didn’t treat him any harsher like he did you. You were an angel among the living and he should have been grovelling for someone like you but instead you’d been served on a silver platter and Sae knew all of that now.
The difference between how he would’ve treated Mirin before and after you appeared was enough proof of what, or who, he really wanted.
“She’s the best,” he answered honestly, and he felt just slightly bad when Mirin’s expression dropped. Something told him that she was expecting something else. That was when Sae felt the need to draw the line. “And I don’t think she would appreciate it if she knew I was out with… you.”
Across the table, Mirin shifted in her seat, visibly uncomfortable with his tone. She recognised it; it was when he was about to break some bad news. It was always directed to someone else but never to her.
“Listen, I’m sorry you’re going through all of this, really I am,” Sae started, averting his gaze because he wasn’t actually good with words—but if he intended for this to be goodbye, then he had to. “But I don’t think it would be a good idea if we met alone anymore.”
On Mirin’s end, she didn’t want to give up. Sae had been the better part of her youth and she didn’t want to give up their entire relationship or friendship or whatever it is to some girl who had been unknown to her until she got back and realised Karasu had been invited to the wedding and not her. That must’ve been you, was it not?
So she had to play this smart. She had to, to keep this thinning line of relation between her and Sae. As long as it was still there, there had to be a shot for her, right?
“No, you’re right, I’d feel bad too, I just… I didn’t have anyone to turn to recently and—”
“It’s fine,” Sae cut in, mainly because he didn’t want to have to hear her voice break anymore. It was clear cut in his head what they couldn’t be, what he didn’t want them to be anymore. Because he wanted that with you, or at least try at it. “I know Karasu’s been busy lately what with owning his first hotel and all but… Oliver’s a pretty good listener once you get to know him more, and Otoya… you know what, just stick with Oliver—he’s a better guy than he seems. And his family’s full of lawyers too so you guys might have a lot in common.”
Mirin could feel her whole world breaking into pieces right in front of her but there was no such thing as defeat in her dictionary. All she had to do was retreat and come back twice as strong, otherwise she might lose Sae for good.
So she nodded, as though she cared for who or what his friends could do for her. Sae was the only one she wanted to be around—that night at the karaoke room was just a failed attempt, that was all.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll take your word for it,” Mirin smiled through her pain, fingers fisting at the hem of her dress. He didn’t even bother to compliment her tonight, or say anything of substance. This was not the Sae she knew, and she wanted to bring him back.
That was why, that night when she got back home (and she was absolutely miserable at how Sae didn’t even offer to drive her back, instead just staying with her until she hailed a cab), she used everything at her family’s disposal to find out more about you. You and your family and Mirin wouldn’t stop until she found out what could possibly make you break.
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If there was something Sae would want answers to, it was how he went from having not a single care in the world to give you, to giving you more than he ever even gave himself. He didn’t know if it even seemed that way to you, but it was.
After he got back that night, it was as though you’d constructed a wall between the both of you. Sae could feel you pulling away a little, and he didn’t know why—all he knew was that he didn’t want you to drift. He hadn’t even gotten that close yet, and he wanted to know more about you.
Was it a crime that he couldn’t express himself properly?
It was unfathomable how he was here in the kitchen in the middle of the day, trying to cook dinner for when you got back from meeting Reo. He frowned a little just upon remembering that. Was this jealousy? Only because he was sure by the way Reo was looking at you on your wedding day that there were some hidden feelings there.
On his part, for sure. For you? Sae couldn’t be sure. He could only hope not.
But he wouldn’t discount you from getting a divorce when he saw the mess he ended up making in the kitchen, especially that charcoal-stained wall behind the stove.
Fuck, was he really this bad at anything related to maintaining the household?
Fish was cooked to fuck so he couldn’t serve that anymore. Chicken got burnt on the grill because Sae couldn’t tell when it was done for the life of him. The only thing that was left was the soup and it was still boiling on the stove so at least not all was lost.
At that moment, Sae felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and immediately picked it up, moving himself to the balcony in case you got home early.
“Oliver, find anything out?”
Over the line, Oliver scoffed. “Saw the dad going to the bank, think he went to take whatever was in his safe deposit box. Mother was there too.”
Through the phone, Sae could still tell Oliver was smoking. He still remembered how much smoke would fill his car whenever he rode with him. There was a long pause as Sae tried to gather his thoughts.
“So, Itoshi Sae had a change of heart, huh?” Oliver’s teasing voice rang loud over the line.
Sae rolled his eyes, somewhat regretting asking the guy for a favour.
“What about Mirin? Still ditching her all the time?”
Sae wouldn’t call it ditching. He just… kept rejecting every single time she’d ask him out. Sure, she kept it in line with what he had told her last time, which was to not hang out alone, but Sae didn’t necessarily hang out together in a group either.
“You know, she—”
“Don’t care,” Sae interjected.
“Oh? Really? What if—”
“Don’t wanna hear anything about her, if you don’t mind.” And he was being completely honest. Sure, she kept responding to his stories and he was being nice by giving them a reaction, and sometimes she kept trying to text him although he barely gave any good responses—but that was the extent of their friendship right now, as far as Sae would allow it.
Oliver chuckled through the phone, hands up in surrender even though no one would see it. “Fine, have it your way.”
“Just tell me if you find anything else,” Sae muttered, completely exhausted from having to deal with anything related to Mirin and for once, Oliver was surprised.
“Aye aye, sir,” Oliver murmured sarcastically before hanging up. 
The Sae he knew before you would never be caught dead trying to push Mirin away. Sighing, Oliver drove away, losing sight of your parents from his rearview mirror.
“Just don’t say I didn’t try to warn you, Sae.”
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Maybe the tickets his parents gave him to celebrate the honeymoon in Korea was a huge blessing in disguise. From looking at you being excited all through the airport just because everyone had been calling you Mrs Itoshi and Sae had been addressing you as his wife, to actually landing in Incheon airport and watching you hop like a child—he thought maybe your earlier distance was just a phase.
Until, of course, you suggested that you both do solo trips.
To which Sae had been mostly deadpan, but not because he didn’t care—more like he was stumped. This was a honeymoon. For the both of you. Was this you trying to push him away? And if so, what for?
So Sae wasn’t going to let that get in the way. He didn’t outright reject your idea. But he could go along with it. You could go wherever you wanted to go, and Sae would tag along behind you.
He wasn’t going to let you wander around solo when you were supposed to spend time enjoying this foreign place together. And Mirin was especially not going to be able to guilt trip him into entertaining her while he was there by using their old plans against him.
When he tried to be her friend and texted her back with actual words for once, Mirin had somehow steered the entire conversation into dangerous territory; like how Mirin had once told Sae she wanted to visit Korea with him someday and that she asked if it was too much to still want to go.
Of course, he had said Oliver would be more than happy to take her there (to which she had sent a sad face that he happily ignored). Still, it sucked when he was trying to find a balance between being a friend and learning to be a good husband.
So there he was, following you around shamelessly even though he knew you kept looking behind to make sure that he was, in fact, actually following you. Sometimes it was hard to keep his snicker in. You looked half in shock yet half relieved.
It was more enjoyable with you than he thought it would be. He had absolutely zero expectations, especially when he had heard so much about knowing people’s true nature once you go on a trip with them—but you were more than fine.
Sae was starting to silently thank his parents for forcing you together. He got to see your smiles way up close, and it was nice to keep you close to him, and he liked the way you smelled that he memorised your perfume when you went in to that makeup store earlier.
That was why when night came and the both of you got back to the hotel, Sae had been more than a little regretful that he had asked the staff to prepare an extra mattress. Was it bad he wanted to sleep with you?
In the end, he only shook his head and vanquished the question from his head. He didn’t want to risk making you too uncomfortable.
“It’s nothing, goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Sae.”
And he watched as you walked away, wondering if your disappointment was all in his head.
The next few days of the honeymoon went well—until a flurry of notifications popped up while the two of you were playing on his phone; Oliver’s personal important ones mixed with Mirin’s loud ones in the group chat. He didn’t give one shit about the latter, but Oliver’s is what he couldn’t let you see. Not yet, anyway, when it was just based on a hunch.
“Hey Oliver, what is it?” 
“They’re definitely fishy, my guy said they’d been moving money around, no idea where though.”
Sae spent that entire evening theorising with Oliver on what it could be—and by the time he came back in, you’d passed out in your bed, probably exhausted from walking too much that day. Somehow, it felt rewarding to be able to tuck you in, and maybe it was greedy but he kissed you lightly on the forehead before he shut the lights.
Yeah, he’d definitely protect you, no matter what.
But there was something he couldn’t understand somehow, when he thought everything was going fine—why were you distancing yourself again?
The last few days of the trip felt wrong, and especially the last night when he could hear you sniffling through the door. It worried him more than he was when it was Mirin, and if that wasn’t enough proof to himself that you were slowly becoming irreplaceable in his life then he didn’t know what was.
That was why he gave in and called the only person he knew who could help—Reo. No matter how much he didn’t want to admit it, after being your best friend your whole life, he would probably know best. Sustaining his own ego came last to him when it involved you.
“You better not have done something wrong to Y/N or I swear to god—”
“Hello to you too, Reo.”
Reo sighed, and Sae didn’t blame his hostile tone. You probably confided in him for everything and Sae was undoubtedly one of those things.
“So? What is it?” The purple-haired one’s reluctance to speak to Sae showed, and Sae had to swallow every bit of pride down because he had to ask.
Turned out, Reo was more than willing to share. Only because it was for you, he said. And Sae suddenly felt like an ass for feeling a pang of jealousy. Reo knew you in certain emotionally intimate ways that Sae had yet to learn; he knew what you wanted people to do when you were in different moods, he knew how you wanted to be treated.
That was why Sae couldn’t help himself.
“Reo, are you in love with Y/N?” Sae chose your name instead of calling you his wife—there was a part of him that felt possessiveness in this sense would make him sound like more of a douche than he already seemed to be.
“Relax, I’m not gonna steal her from you or anything,” he laughed, although Sae noted he didn’t answer the question. “But… just letting you know, she has a ton of other options.”
After Reo hung up, Sae stared at the open chat thread on his screen. A picture of you and Reo, making it seem like the two of you were kissing, sent to Sae from an anonymous number. More than questionable, and Sae had tiny specks of doubt before now—wasn’t it natural to be sceptical in situations like these? But now he knew it was stupid. It was stupid because if not Reo, then he should know you enough to trust you wouldn’t do such a thing.
Same as Sae.
Maybe there were things you weren’t ready to tell each other, but now you had the rest of your lives to do so. Sae sure as hell wanted to keep you for that long at the least. So that night he found himself promising you that he would stay, because it was the honest truth. He would stick by you no matter what. After all, he fell in love with you before he even knew it.
And maybe one day, he’ll have the guts to say it.
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Just when Sae thought he had had enough troubles for a while, what with your parents showing him their true colours (whether you caught on to it or not)—life threw him another curveball. One in the form of his old flame, casually showing up at his doorstep even though he never once told her the address.
“Mirin? What are you doing here?”
And she was wearing that same old face of hers, the sad one, the one that looked like she was just seconds away from breaking. Normally Sae would entertain her like he did that one night, for old times’ sake, but he was beginning to feel bad intentions and this—his ex-girlfriend being in the house you two shared—was definitely something you would object to.
Instead of waiting for an invitation like a normal person, she barged in past Sae, helping herself to a seat by the island, head in her hands.
“I didn’t know where else to go, it’s just been getting worse,” Mirin was sniffling at that point, and Sae knew he was going to feel like a total ass, but he had to do what he had to do. She had mistaken his question as one of concern.
“I actually got an errand to run, so,” Sae lied through his teeth, dressed in a random oversized white tee and black shorts, though that didn’t stop him. He was genuinely sick and frankly, he was growing sick and tired of having to deal with someone who didn’t respect boundaries.
“Huh?”
“I gotta leave in a minute,” he muttered, going into the bedroom to grab a coat and his keys, slipping on his shoes afterwards at the entrance before turning to look up at Mirin. “Do… you wanna stay in here alone?”
Stumped, Mirin took a few seconds to form a proper response. “Um, no no, how about I run that errand with you? Two is better than one, right?” She was still smiling brightly, almost oblivious to Sae’s attitude.
Two was definitely not better than one, especially since all Sae intended to do was to drive around the block and come back when she was gone.
“Nah, it’s a personal matter, and I’m already late,” he said, sauntering out the front door, Mirin barely trailing behind before the door closed. 
Once they were in the lift, Sae caught Mirin sidling up next to him, and he had to exaggerate his coughing just to get her to distance herself. As the icing on top of the cake, he turned on his phone screen just to let her see the wallpaper he put of the both of you back in Korea, that picture where the both of you dressed up in front of the palace. Just to make sure she knew where his head was at.
“Need me to call you a cab home?” He asked, because he would—anything to get her out of here because Sae just didn’t want to give her any space in his life right now.
Of course, Sae knew Mirin well enough to know she was probably seething inside because she came all this way for nothing, but she masked it with a smile. “No it’s fine, I’ll help myself.”
True to her word, she did. Sae watched the cab turn down the other side of the road through his side mirror, and he was relieved more than anything. To think, just months ago he would’ve given anything to have her back in his life.
In the cab, Mirin’s tears weren’t those of upset, but more towards those of contempt. Just what kind of a spell did you have Sae under that he would treat her, the love of his life, so cruelly? To her, you could never be perfect, not for Sae. Because it was her. He told her so, once upon a time. In fact, how dare you get the dream honeymoon with Sae that she always wanted?
And even though she didn’t get much time with him today (because of course he was still acting up), she smiled to herself as she scrolled through her photos. She got what she came for, at least. A few pictures she took, both before and when Sae came out of the room.
Swiftly, Mirin went to her profile and posted a story—anything that seemed suspect enough would be fine. All she needed was a little luck and for the universe to propel you to look at her profile. Creating misunderstandings would just be the building block of you and Sae’s downfall, and then everything else would be easy peasy. Sae wouldn’t even stop her anyway—he unfollowed her a while ago. Whatever.
Yeah, everything would go her way just like it always did. Making Sae pine for her for so long couldn’t possibly be erased by someone such as yourself. Besides, if all else failed, Mirin already found out what she needed to about your family. If all else failed, she’d make sure to take you down.
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Was it all in his head?
You seemed a little more inquisitive than usual, and it looked like you were biting your tongue. Did you have something to say that you were afraid to?
“You can tell me anything if you ever need to, okay?” It was more to assure you that nothing you could ask him would ever be too much or too invasive because he honestly didn’t know what it could be—but you didn’t take it.
Was it a sensitive subject?
The entire time you were gone, he spent his time at home ignoring Oliver’s calls and mulling over the decision in his head; the decision to tell you everything that was going on with Mirin. It was getting too much, and he couldn’t tell what was going on in her head anymore—it was like he never knew her.
And… he owed you that, at the very least. You had been nothing but an angel to him, and you’d never been petty or vindictive and you were perfect. Just perfect.
Despite being surrounded by people like Oliver and Otoya who wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about it if they were in his shoes, and being brought up by people who lacked any sort of love for either of their sons, Sae knew that he had to tell you before it was too late. Before Mirin started sinking her claws into you and drove you crazy—being how she was right now, he wouldn’t put it past her to do that. Call it a gut feeling.
If she could just show up wherever she wanted impulsively, plus the amount of information she could get her hands on thanks to her father’s contacts, who knew what else she could do?
But speak of the devil and it shall show up at your door, because minutes later, instead of opening the door to your beautiful face and warm smile, Sae got only a sinister feeling.
“What do you want?”
This time, he didn’t bother hiding his disdain for seeing her anymore. She had been proving time and time again that she was only out for herself, and that was not the person Sae once loved.
She may as well be a stranger now.
Her frown lined her features, the furrow of her brows more defined than ever. Her expression was halfway between disbelief and upset. “Are you really going to treat me this way, Sae?”
“I thought we could still be friends, and that was stupid of me,” Sae said, being openly honest with her for once. “But we can’t.”
With her hand on the door as he tried to close it on her, Mirin was determined to keep it open. She wasn’t about to come all the way here for nothing again. Besides, she’d been posting conspicuously for days—surely now was a good time as ever to drive the wedge deeper between the two of you?
“Why? Because your petty wife won’t let us?”
Sae had never had to force his voice down as much as he had to right now. “Don’t you… ever say anything against her.” He turned on his heels, ready to get his coat and force her out of there until he heard the familiar clack of her heels storming in after him.
“You’re not seriously choosing that second-rate over me?” She spat, fists clenched at her sides, her purse thrown on the floor.
Silence was all he could give her because nothing that would come out of his mouth would be merciful. You were the most innocent of all and yet your name was getting dragged through the mud just because Mirin couldn’t wake up and realise that she was the only reason they drifted in the first place.
“Get out.” Soft. Simple. There was nothing else Sae had to say to her.
Mirin shook her head, adamant on seeing this conversation through to the end. She wasn’t going to leave until she got what she wanted. “You’ve seriously got a screw loose if you’re choosing that cheating whore over me.”
Sae’s head whipped over to glare at her, his self-control coming in extra handy tonight. He narrowed his gaze, the realisation dawning upon him.
“You were the one who sent that picture of her with Reo, weren’t you?” A redundant question; he didn’t need her to answer.
Judging by the triumphant smirk on her face, she didn’t need to say a thing. “Oh, I have a lot more where that came from,” she chuckled, sounding a lot like a villain out of a fairytale. Slowly, she inched closer to him, “come on, if she can have her fun, we can have ours, can’t we?”
Lunging forward, her lips connected with his as she caught him off guard, her arms wrapped around his neck, taking him a few seconds to pry off. Sae wasn’t even spared a second before she tried again, but he swerved this time, and she could only scoff.
“Are you fucking nuts?”
“I’d be careful with how you speak to me if I were you,” she threatened, and Sae was about to offer a rebuttal until she took her purse and shoved some documents in his hand. “This is what you had Oliver investigate, right?”
Sae swallowed the lump in his throat as he looked over them. It wasn’t what he asked of Oliver. This was way more in depth and way more messy than Sae had thought it was. There must’ve been an ongoing investigation that he wasn’t aware of. Either way, how did she—
“It was easy enough to steal it from him,” Mirin mused, straightening up. “It wasn’t his fault, I nicked it while he was asleep.”
Sae didn’t even want to think about the context of that situation. What was even more perplexing was how proud she sounded of it.
Taking a deep breath, he collected himself, making sure to hold onto the documents. Mirin grinned slightly, realising his intentions. “Don’t worry, I made sure to make copies,” she told him, winking.
“What do you want?”
“To talk. About everything. Or else I call for an official investigation into that.”
On one side, Sae felt that everything that had to be said was already said and done. On the other, Mirin wanted so desperately to hold onto the only thing she had been sure of at one point in her life that nothing was going to stop her.
It wasn’t like he had a choice—there was no way he was going to let her storm through your life like that. If there was a chance he could talk some sense into her, he had to try.
“Fine, give me a minute.”
Retreating to the bathroom to wash his face and get her damned lipstick stain off—something he no doubt would have to tell you about later because this has blown way out of proportion—he was almost done until he heard Mirin introducing herself and his heart sank.
Fuck, were you back already?
It wasn’t hard to tell you were completely taken aback by Mirin’s presence in the house. And if Sae had his way, he would tell you everything right here and right now but with the knowledge she held over your family, he wasn’t sure it was a wise idea to tip her over the edge right now. Her threat still loomed over him. 
Sae hated how she could take advantage of the situation and just make it seem even more suspicious—just how long had she been at this? He really should’ve just warned you about Mirin a long time ago.
“Do you trust me?”
“I don’t know, Sae. Can I?” For the first time, there was nothing but crisp coldness in your voice.
It stays with him even after he leaves, even when he follows Mirin to the bridge overlooking the waterfront. He’s decided; after tonight, there will not be any ties between him or Mirin, not after he actually witnessed how toxic she could get.
“This is far enough,” Sae tells her, stopping himself right before the row of shophouses that line the underside of the bridge. “What do you want from me?”
Mirin chuckles helplessly, caught between knowing everything she’s doing is futile and wanting to try anyway. “Are you kidding me, Sae?” The tears are already streaming down her face, and Sae is mostly just in awe of how quick she can go from menacing to heartbroken. “What do you think?”
He’s more than aware that there are a lot of unresolved things between the two of them—but that doesn’t change the fact that what Mirin wants, he can’t provide her with anymore. His silence is indicative enough that she can’t get her way no matter what she does. But in the face of someone she’s wanted her whole life, in the face of the only person she’s ever truly been genuine with in this lifetime, she finds that she can’t just accept that.
“You can’t tell me that I mean nothing to you,” Mirin murmurs, and it’s so quiet that Sae wonders if he was even meant to hear it.
On a normal day, Sae would feel sorry for her. They used to be a pair of lovebirds who planned out nearly their whole life together a long time ago. But she lost that right, she lost his sympathy the moment she started being exactly like her mother and trying to tamper with your life.
But maybe his hostility wasn’t a good way to deal with her, looking at all the backlash she’s caused, so Sae tries a different approach this time, even if he’s not particularly in the mood to be nice to her after all the trouble she’s caused.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” It’s partly true. Even if he didn’t do anything in particular, he imagines it must’ve been a shock to her when she came back to Japan and the guy who had claimed to want to wait for her had suddenly been married off. (But he wasn’t sorry for throwing her invitation away—to a certain extent, he felt that you didn’t deserve your future husband having such a distraction in the crowd. At the time.)
“Sae, I know you still love me, I know we can work this out, okay? Just give it a shot. Leave her and we can—”
“I can’t do that,” Sae cuts in, sighing because this is the few times in his life that his inability to express himself has led to inconveniences of this magnitude.
“Why? Whatever she or your parents have on you I’ll—”
“No, Mirin, I can’t because I love her,” Sae says, looking Mirin in the eyes and breaking her heart all over again. But he’d do anything for you, and right now all he wants is to go back to you. He wants to be with you and hear your cute laugh and tease you because you’re all he can ever think about nowadays. “I’m sorry but… I love my wife, and I’m not going to leave her, or let anything happen to her.”
Maybe it’s the absolute vulnerability that she can hear in his voice that makes her believe it. Sae doesn’t say things like that so easily, and maybe it’s the way she can see his eyes tearing up that she can tell it’s genuine no matter how much she doesn’t want it to be. He’s worried and in love and feeling overwhelmed. But Mirin’s not in the right state of mind and she fights back instead of admitting defeat.
“What about promising you’d wait for me, huh? What happened to that?”
By now, Mirin’s airing all her grievances, and Sae understands that enough to let it slide.
“I did, but we grew apart, didn’t we? You dated other guys, refused to try with me while I was still…” He avoids saying it.
“All the things we said we’d do together once we could finally have time to ourselves! Travelling, raising pets, picking out a house and going furniture shopping together, building a family because ours sucked,” she’s sobbing and Sae has to ignore the stares they’re getting from the few people that pass by.
“I still want that—”
“Then why—”
“With my wife.” He emphasises on this, and he’ll repeat it as many times as he needs to. “With Y/N. Her, and no one else.”
It’s his absolute indifference towards Mirin that jars her, because in this world, he was the only one she could count on, and now even that was gone. And right now, all she feels is hatred for you, for the one who stole him from right under her nose.
“Even if I tell you I’ll raze her whole family to the ground?” Mirin threatens with a scowl, igniting the combativeness inside of him.
Sae scoffs, shaking his head in disappointment. Nothing is going to get through to her. Not like this. He stuffs his hands in his pocket, “you can try, but I’ll be right there defending her with everything I got.”
Those teal eyes that used to look at her softly than they had anything else, his soft locks that she could once twirl her fingers through—they now belonged to you. They belong to you and they’re slipping away from her as Sae deigns to say any sort of goodbye, instead just walking off in silence as he tries to get back to you.
Ignoring Mirin’s cries of his name and the threats she’s hurling, he tries to call your phone but you’re not picking up—and that’s enough to make him run.
You’re not in the apartment, and some of your things are gone and since when did he even start to take notice of small little things like your favourite face towel that hangs on the side of the sink or your trusty furry headband that you liked to use hung beside the mirror? Those small little things are missing and for once, Sae’s afraid.
“Come on, pick up pick up,” Sae mutters under his breath as he drives around the neighbourhood, hoping he’d catch you somewhere. He ignores the string of calls he gets from Karasu, only to call him back when he gets a text: oi, pick up, idiot. your wife just booked a room here, you guys ok?
Thank god for coincidences like this or else Sae would’ve spent the entire time you were away wallowing in agony (silently).
It’s easy enough to find you after that, his feet running the most it has in a while—his ankles hurt and his knees feel weak, especially where they’re injured, but you’re worth every injury he has to make. And his heart does somersaults when he finally lays eyes on you, but then it plummets to the ground when he hears the word divorce.
Minutes later you’re running away from him, and he chases after you again—he’ll chase you however long he has to because this is all one big misunderstanding and he has to clear it up because he needs you in his life. Right now and forever. Just like he vowed to you on your wedding day.
The entire night has been a rollercoaster of emotions, and it was naive of Sae to think it was done because the next thing he knows, he sees Mirin throw a half-empty cup of yoghurt at you (along with her vile insults), and your face is absolutely dazed.
Shit. This is all his fault and he’s really, really sorry to you.
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WHERE WE LEFT OFF
The walk back to your hotel suite is deafeningly silent.
Subtle lavender fills your noses as you enter the hotel lobby, though you can’t get the smell of greek yoghurt out of your nostrils.
You wonder where Karasu took Mirin to.
Not that you care about her. You just want to make sure you don’t see her. If you do, you might actually slap her.
You’re not sure if you want to try and fight her lawyers. Not sure if you want to give her reason to lord over you. At least, not as much as she did you.
When you enter the lift, you realise that Sae’s been unrelentingly close to you. His arms always brush against yours because he won’t leave so much as a gap between the two of you. Like he wants to catch you if you run.
Not in the creepy way, though. Not to you.
His hair is still slightly matted to his face; must’ve been the result of chasing after you. You’re a little perplexed, and you’re a little strict with yourself—you can’t back down later when you’re questioning him, and you have to remind yourself of this.
Because this marriage isn’t surviving another day if you don’t understand their… relationship.
Surely you’re not just being completely illiterate, right?
From what you’d been told, Sae and Mirin were each other’s first loves. That isn’t what you’re pressed about though, because he could so easily think the same about you and Reo, if the roles were reversed. What you are still pressed about is whether Sae’s intentions still hold true: is he still waiting for her? For the right time to be with her?
His earlier confession still repeats itself in your head. It could just as easily be a complete lie. You don’t want to hold onto it for fear of being disappointed.
Sae had been waiting for Mirin before the arranged marriage thwarted his plans. He had refused to give you any sort of acknowledgement as his actual wife until, well, your honeymoon, you guess. And even then, you still saw Mirin talking to him. Even then, he had to make suspicious calls in the night.
The worst part is when you saw her happily posting in your house. In the apartment where it’s supposed to be for you and your husband yet your husband and his former lover were in there when you were out working.
The moment you enter the suite, you toss his coat on top of one of the chairs and retreat to the bathroom, more than eager to change out of your Mirin-stained clothes.
Your husband’s waiting awkwardly outside the bathroom door by the time you get out, hands in his pockets, sheepishly averting his gaze as though he has the right to be the one acting nervous right now.
He takes a seat beside you on the bed, although you want nothing more than to just have time to yourself right now. On Sae’s part, he’s usually an advocate for this. He would’ve let you be alone any other time but right now. Because he feels that if he lets you, he’d lose you.
And this is selfishness in a way he hasn’t experienced and he doesn’t know why but he knows that he needs you with him.
“How many times?”
Sae finds himself stumped at your question. Your voice is quivering, but you’re trying to stand your ground. “Of what?”
For a change, you’re the one with the firm, demanding voice and he’s the one sounding meek. But for all your hostility, you still let him hold your hand. It makes Sae want to hold onto hope.
“How many times have you cheated on me?”
“What?”
He’s anticipated many things from you, many questions about his history and why you saw him the way you did earlier that night, but consider him stumped when he heard the words fly out of your mouth.
Cheating?
Have you been in agony over such a question all this time?
And suddenly he feels an overwhelming amount of guilt wash over him. Sure, he’s known that he would be bad at these things, at communicating when it’s not a sport, at understanding your feelings, at being a damn husband in a marriage that he initially loathed. But he didn’t know it would be this bad, that he would’ve made you feel this insecure.
Right now, you’re seething, and rightfully so because he must’ve done so many things wrong to make you think that way, to make you feel so sure of it too.
You’re still waiting for an answer, fists clenched at your side, the familiar mirth in your expression that Sae’s grown used to is tucked away safely in a place you don’t want him to reach.
“Well? Tell me, because I don’t want a marriage where I’m constantly a second choice. How many times have you—”
“I didn’t, I swear.”
The words come out of him in a hurry; there’s a flurry of emotions inside him, mainly one of fear—since when did he become afraid to lose you? It wasn’t something he was consciously aware of and yet it’s surfacing right now. He doesn’t want you to think that way anymore, that he’d do anything behind your back that would far disgrace your status as his wife.
It takes you a while to collect your thoughts, because Sae can see your shoulders relaxing, your fists unclenching. Your brows are furrowed, and he knows it’s because you’re afraid to just trust him. With good reason.
“How can I believe that?”
Your voice has lost its earlier edge, and now all that remains is the fragments of your hope—hope that somehow you can make it through this. Together.
Sae takes a step forward, daring to pull you into his arms, his mind filled with just you you you. Like it has been for a bulk of the time recently. 
“I’ll tell you what you wanna know, anything.” He’s aware it doesn’t come close to the damages done, but he’ll try. He’ll try for the rest of his life if he has to.
“Everything. Tell me everything.”
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And everything it was.
Sae answered everything you wanted him to, no holds barred. Mostly it was everything about Mirin, because that’s what’s been bugging you the most. And it was a lot. Somehow, you believe him, every single word.
He was stupid for keeping it to himself, yes. But you kept Reo and that picture to yourself too, and maybe you can understand why he had initially been afraid to say anything.
You’re both sitting on the bed, facing each other, Sae’s voice nearly cracking from all the talking he’s been doing. His hand slowly reaches out to yours, the tension in his shoulders letting go when your fingers grasp onto his. Can he take that to mean you don’t completely hate him?
“I’m really, really sorry,” Sae says, softly, gazing at the mattress because he still doesn’t even know if he deserves your acceptance. “I really do love you, Y/N, and I don’t want a…” divorce. 
Is it because you’re too nice that you already want to forgive him? It’s all just a domino effect that got way too big. Still, you can’t make this a habit, so you stand your ground.
“I just… I want this to be a marriage where we can be open and completely honest with one another,” you say, lost in your thoughts, knowing that you’re not completely innocent yourself, and ashamed even more to know that Sae had known about the misleading picture of you and Reo all along yet choosing to trust you wholeheartedly anyway. “But I think there’s a lot of work we both need to do.”
Sae takes it hopefully. “Then we’ll do it, together,” he tells you, and it’s hard not to smile at how genuine he’s being.
But before either of you can say much else, there’s a quiet knock at the door.
“I’ll get it,” Sae offers, walking to the door and sighing once he looks through the peephole. He’s ready to ignore until the knocks come again. Opening the door, he sees a slightly timid Mirin. “We don’t have anything else to say to each other.”
Mirin doesn’t even look at him, just gazes past him at nothing. “I didn’t come to talk to you,” she says, before her gaze lands on you. “I came here to talk to her.”
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388 notes · View notes
jswizzlewrites · 9 months
Text
Jealousy
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader 
Daphne and Anthony plot a way for you two to finally admit your feelings for one another 
requests open :)
It all started on the last dinner party at Aubrey Hall before the season started. You and Benedict had been acting like a married couple the whole trip without actually being married, or even telling each other of your feelings. 
“You see it, don’t you brother?” Daphne had said on the last afternoon as her and Anthony stared out the library windows that overlooked the garden where Benedict had been trying to teach you how to paint for the last hour. 
They watched as you finished drawing a flower and excitedly turned towards Benedict only to have the brush slash across his cheek leaving a bright pink strip. You cover your mouth but it doesn’t do much to stop the laughter escaping your lips. 
Benedict pretends to be mad before reaching over and smiling, he was close enough that they thought he might kiss you but he reached down to dip his finger in the blue paint before swiping it across your own cheek. You let out a laugh as you jump back waving the brush madly as it sprayed across you both. 
“That they are in love?” Anthony replies. 
Daphne nods, “I knew they had feelings but I don’t remember them being so-,” she watches as you try to get away from Benedict and he lunges forward wrapping his arms around your waist to bring you back towards him. He holds a paint brush up to your dress and you hold your hands up in mock surrender as you laugh. “Obvious.” 
“That’s because you’ve been too busy with your own husband and child, they’ve been insufferable this whole trip,” he retorts. “If Benedict doesn’t ask for her hand this season, I’ll have to find a way to force his hand on the matter.”
Daphne laughs. “Oh yeah, how will you do that?” she hums. 
He looks away from the scene in front of him and turns towards his sister. “Perhaps I’ll propose myself and force his hand.” 
Daphne turns to her brother quickly. “You wouldn’t,” she replies. 
He gives her a coy smile. “I wasn’t actually planning on it but perhaps I should,” he replies. “We need to make these two finally admit their feelings for each other before they drive us all mad.” 
Daphne looks back at the two of you, where you had stopped play fighting and had started putting the art supplies away. “You are right,” she replies, “They’ve had years to admit it on their own, now they need some help.” 
You walk around the ballroom as you watch all the couples dance around the ballroom. You had been waiting for the Bridgertons to arrive by the refreshment table but once a footman eyed you for taking your third lemonade you decided to make some circles around the dance floor unaware of the plot brewing by two of your closest friends, Anthony and Daphne. 
“Oh,” you say in surprise as a gentleman steps right into your path. You look up to see familiar Bridgerton blue eyes. “Anthony! I didn’t realize your family had arrived. How was your travels to London?” 
Anthony smiles at you. “No one killed each other so I consider the journey a win,” he replies, extending his hand to you. “May I have the next dance?” 
You blink in surprise. “Of course,” you say quickly, taking his extended hand. You couldn’t recall the last time Anthony had asked you to dance. Benedict always did and Colin occasionally but it was very rare for Anthony. As the conversation progressed and the first dance ended he asked you to stay for a second, and then a third. 
Benedict knew something was wrong when he looped around the ballroom for the second time and didn’t find you. You were always walking and mingling or at the refreshment table. Perhaps something happened and you weren’t in attendance. 
“Why do you look so glum?” Daphne says, walking up beside her brother. 
He turns towards his sister. She always knew everything when it came to the ton gossip. “Do you know if Y/N is in attendance?” he asks. 
She nods, and turns towards the dance floor where she points to a couple near the middle. “That’s their third dance of the evening.” 
Benedict's eyes narrow as he realizes you're dancing with Anthony. “Why is he dancing with her? He never dances,” he retorts. 
Daphne shrugs innocently. “He did mention growing a fondness for her when she was visiting Aubrey hall.” 
Benedict swallowed, as he turned away from the two of them and towards his sister. Growing a fondness for her? He had known her for years and never “grew a fondness for her.” Why now? The music came to an end and the couple began moving off the dance floor. 
“Excuse me,” he says distractedly to Daphne as he makes his way towards his brother and you. 
“Shall I escort you to get a refreshment?” Benedict heard Anthony ask you as he approaches. Before you have the chance to answer he interjects quickly, “I can handle that, brother.” 
Anthony turns towards his brother with a tight smile. “Ben,” he retorts. Benedict can see you look at the two of them curiously. Anthony turns away from him and back to you with a slight nod as he bids you farewell and walks away. 
Benedict turns towards you with a smile, extending his arm, as he says, “Would you do me the honor of grabbing a refreshment with me?” 
You laugh as you loop your arm with his. “Of course,” you say before jumping into easy conversation with him. Despite being the one standing here with you, he couldn’t shake the feeling he got when Daphne had told him that Anthony was beginning to grow an attachment towards you. You were his, weren’t you? 
A few days had gone by before the next step in the plan. You sat in an armchair by the window with a book in your lap but you had read the same page over and over again. Your mind couldn’t help but drift to what had occurred at the ball a few days prior. 
You turn as a footman enters the room. “Miss Y/N,” he says, with a slight bow. “There is a Bridgerton here for you.” 
“Send him in, please,” you say, standing quickly and straightening your dress. You wondered what Benedict had planned for today. Normally throughout the season he would pop in to escort you on a promenade, invite you to have tea with his family, or an art exhibit that was coming to town. 
Your smile falters when the Bridgerton walks through the door and it was Anthony, not Benedict. “Viscount Bridgerton,” you say with a smile. “What a surprise! I hope everything is well with your family.”
He returns your smile. “They are all well. Most of them are heading to town to promenade,” he explains. “I was hoping to stop by to see if I could escort you through town.” 
You swallow your disappointment, despite the fact that Benedict never officially asked to court you, you had still hoped that he would this season but if Anthony was making advances then it was clear that Benedict did not share your affections. “Of course,” you manage to say. “I would love that.” 
“What are they doing together?” Benedict says as he spots his brother and you walking along the path. You were laughing at something he had said and it made Benedict want to walk over there and knock his own brother out. 
Eloise turns in the direction that Benedict was staring. “Oh! I didn’t realize Anthony was courting Y/N! How lovely!” she exclaims. “It would be nice to have another level headed woman in the family.”
His frown deepened. “They aren’t courting,” he replied back firmly. At least he hoped they weren’t. He had meant to stop by and visit with you but the whole ball situation had him thinking of you as more than just his closest friend and it scared him. It scared him even more to realize that his brother was swooping in just as he realized. 
Eloise waves her hand gaining the attention of Anthony and you. Benedict's heart skips a beat when your eyes land on him and you smile brightly. Anthony gives his siblings a slight nod before taking your arm and escorting you in the opposite direction. 
“Looks like he's trying to keep her all to himself,” Eloise replies with a coy smile. She nudges Benedict's shoulder, “Looks like we might have another Bridgerton sibling by the end of the season.” 
Eloise skips away when she spots her friend, Penelope, but Benedict feels stuck in place as he watches your form get smaller and smaller as his own brother leads you away.
The next two weeks were filled with Anthony inviting you to the Smythe and Smith concert, a new exhibit at the London gallery, many promenades, and many dances at balls. You couldn’t help but feel disappointed when Anthony was the Bridgerton to walk through the door and not Benedict. 
You stood in your family's garden with one of Benedict's sketch books clenched in your hand. He had given it to you at the end of last season. It was filled with sketches of you. You with Penelope and Eloise, you running around the gardens with Auggie, you playing pall mall, and some sketches of your favorite flowers and scenes at Aubrey hall. 
You had thought that this was him admitting he had feelings for you but he hadn’t ended the season with a promise of a courtship and he had barely spoken to you this season. “It looks like it's going to rain,” someone behind you says. 
You turn quickly, wiping at a fallen tear as you smile at Anthony. “I was just trying to enjoy the last bit of sunshine,” you reply, “I didn’t expect you to come visit today. What a lovely surprise.” 
He smiles softly as if he realizes that you were forcing the pleasantries. “As you know, I have been spending a lot of time with you and I enjoy your company immensely,” he begins and you feel your heart drop into your stomach. You had dreamed of this moment since you met Benedict. It wasn’t supposed to be anyone but him. 
“Anthony,” you begin, “I have loved getting to spend time with you but I couldn’t accept. You are one of my closest friends but-,”
“You love someone else,” he supplies. You look up at him in shock. “I know, you love Benedict and he loves you. This whole ploy was to try and make you two finally admit it to one another. I guess I wasn’t expecting you to actually accept all my invitations to do things so I had to come and make sure you actually still love my brother.” 
You nod not being able to trust your voice. He pulls you into an embrace that would cause quite the scandal if anyone happened to see. “He loves you, Y/N,” he says comfortingly. 
You nod again but you weren’t quite sure anymore. You had thought that he might have an attachment towards you but this season had proven otherwise. 
“God, Benedict, what were you doing in here in the dark?” Anthony says as he stares at where Benedict was sitting in his desk chair. 
“It wasn’t dark when I came in here to talk to you,” Benedict replies. “Where have you been?” 
Anthony doesn’t answer as he walks over to where he kept one of his favorite bourbons. He pours two glasses. “I called upon Y/N,” he replies. “What was so important you needed to sit in my study for possibly hours?” 
Benedict stands up and moves to the other side of the desk. “I actually wanted to discuss you and Y/N,” he replies, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread. “I assume you asked to court her.” 
There’s a long pause as Anthony takes a sip. “No,” he replies and Benedict lets out a sigh of relief. “I asked for her hand in marriage.” 
A long pause filled the air as Anthony brought the drink to his lips again waiting for his brother to explode with jealousy. “Aren’t you going to ask me what she-,” he turns to see that he’s alone in the room. He chuckles under his breath. It was about time. 
Benedict was insane with jealousy and dread as he followed your family’s footman into the library. He wasn’t sure if there was anyway to come back from this, anyway to make you his like he always thought you would. 
“Benedict,” you say as you rush into the room. “Is everything alright? Is your family okay?” 
He nods, “Yes, yes, everyone is okay,” he says, quickly. “I am sorry I didn’t realize how me rushing over here late at night would look. Everyone is okay.” 
You smile in relief. “I am glad,” you reply, walking deeper into the room towards him. There’s a long pause and you raise a quizzical eyebrow. “Why are you here?” 
“Right,” Benedict says, realizing he would actually have to declare his love. “You can’t marry Anthony.” 
“I-,” you begin but he cuts you off 
“Please let me finish before I lose all my nerve,” Benedict says in a rushed tone. You nod for him to continue, eyes furrowed in confusion. “I’ve been so blind and content with what we have, how we are, that I hadn’t realized how deeply and truly with you I am until this season.”
He steps closer and grasps your hands in his. “It was hard watching someone else realize how incredible you are. It made me wanna sweep you away and keep you all for myself,” he says softly looking down at you. “It made me realize that I never want to spend another moment away from you. I love you, Y/N.” 
“Can I talk now?” You ask and he nods, watching you intently. “I am not marrying Anthony.” 
He looks down at you in surprise. “Oh, Anthony said that he was here.”
“He was here,” you reply. “And he told me that he had been messing with us. He was trying to get you to admit your feelings for me.” 
Benedict let’s out a long sigh. “He made me feel like my heart was being ripped out and stomped on for weeks,” he retorts. “I am going to kill him.” 
You put a hand in his chest to stop him. “You don’t want to hear what I have to say?” You reply coyly. 
He looks down and smiles at you sheepishly. “I love you too,” you reply. “You can’t imagine the disappointment each time a Bridgerton was announced and it wasn’t you.” 
“Really?” He asks with a lopsided grin. 
You nod, wrapping your arms around him. “I guess we should thank your brother instead of killing him, huh?” You reply. “Without his schemes I don’t think we would have ever admitted out feelings.” 
He groans, as he pulls you closer. “What if we never tell him?” he replies, and you give him a stern look. “He’ll be insufferable.” You continue staring at him. “Okay, how about we tell him after the wedding? That way we could run away and not have to deal with his constant nagging about being right?” 
You smile up at him. “Deal,” you reply. “But I don’t recall you asking me to marry you.” 
“I’ll come tomorrow with a ring and everything but-,” he kneels down on one knee holding his hand in yours. “Will you marry me?” 
You break out into a smile. “Yes, of course,” you say, as he quickly sweeps you up into an embrace. You laugh as he swings you around and just as he sets your feet on the ground he closes the distance between the two of you and his lips press against yours. 
“I love you,” he mumbles against your lips. 
“About time,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
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drewsbuzzcut · 3 months
Text
Midnight Kisses
mat barzal x model!fem!reader
a visceral in doses fic
warnings: mentions sex, alcohol consumption and I think that’s all (this is lightly edited)
this takes place during their first year of dating!
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“I’m stealing my girlfriend for a minute,” Mat pulls you away from your girl talk with Sydney and Alexa. You reach out for them over your boyfriend’s shoulder, feigning sadness but you’re happy to be in his arms.
“I missed you, pretty girl,” he tucks your hair behind your ear before whispering to you in the secluded corner you now reside in.
The million disco balls cast a shine on the boy of you despite the moody lighting.
Your hands travel the large expanse of his back until they come down to rest on his waist.
“I’ve been here the whole time,” you whisper back, looking up at him through your mascara covered eyelashes.
You move his hands to rest on the small of your back, and his skin is cold on your bare skin. Despite all the fancy champagne and cocktails you’ve had, you still can’t stop the shivers moving through your body.
“How many drinks have you had?” Mat asks, a quizzical look on his face.
“2 maybe 6,” you jest, looking down to hide your smirk.
“How many have you had?” You ask in return.
“2 maybe 6,” he playfully mocks you.
You hook your fingers through the loops of his jeans, pulling his body closer to yours. He looks at you with a devilish grin and you just want his body on yours, preferably in a bed.
“It’s almost midnight. We should just leave right now. We can continue this party at your place, have a little champagne and some hot sex,” your voice is low and sultry, your lips attacking the skin of Mat’s neck in between each word.
His hands squeeze at your ass before they move to rest on the backs of your thighs. Your cheeks grow even more red as his fingers trail up under your tiny skirt.
“Wish I could take you right here, right now. This little skirt is driving me insane and these heels,” Mat lets out a groan, his head tilting back and Adam's apple bobbing.
“Kiss me,” you whine, tugging on his button up and throwing a leg over his hip. Your pointed heel rubs at his pants.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait until the clock strikes 12,” he responds, nosing at the pulse point of your neck.
He’s teasing you, but you’ll allow him to get away with it. This time.
“Fine then, hotshot. I guess I’ll just go back to the girls,” you pat his chest and pull out of his hold.
“Nope, you’re mine for the rest of the night. The girls will just have to wait until your next scheduled brunch,” he comes up behind you, pulling your back into his chest.
He kisses at your neck, sucking your skin into his mouth and making you gasp. Your body melts into his, enjoying his warmth during the freezing cold temperature.
“This year was a great one,” you break the momentary silence.
“The best. I met the love of my life,” he says so simply and it makes you giddy.
“What do you think this next year will be like?” You turn in his arms, hands locked behind his neck as you search his eyes for the answers to all your questions.
“Perfect as long as you’re by my side,” he states confidently.
“Mat, be serious,” you groan.
“I am being serious. It doesn’t matter what happens next year, because we’ll have each other. I love you and you’re it for me,” he wraps his arms around your neck, not giving you space to second guess his words.
“I love you,” you lean up to kiss his cheek.
“Countdown is starting,” Sydney pokes her head around the corner you both are hiding, so she can gather everyone inside.
Mat pulls your body to his, his arm wrapping around your waist. That’s one thing that surprised him this year. He loves touching. Well at least when it comes to you. He can never not be touching you.
“Here you go, baby,” he passes you a flute of champagne.
You turn into him, an arm being tossed over his shoulder as you hold your drink at your side.
“Do you think we’ll get married next year?” It’s a teasing question paired with an even more teasing smile, but you do want to know how he’ll respond.
“If we were getting married next year, you wouldn’t know,” he laughs.
“Fine,” you pretend to be disappointed, but you can’t hold back your laugh.
“Will you let me drive your sports car next year?” It’s Mat’s turn to ask his questions. He’s referring to the brand new car you just purchased. It’s a black BMW convertible.
“In your dreams, barzal. I’m not letting you anywhere near the driver’s seat of my baby,” you answer, half in truth and half in joking.
“I let you drive my car, but I can’t drive yours?”
“I’m a superb driver, sorry hotshot. You can be my sexy ass passenger princess, though,” you pull him flush against you. The ridges of his abs feel lovely.
Everyone starts counting down around you, making you realize just how easy it is to lose yourself around Mat.
FIVE
“Will you still love me next year?” Mat looks at you with a goofy grin and his question has you rolling your eyes.
FOUR
“Of course. My love for you knows no end,” you answer.
THREE
He smiles, looking down before meeting your eyes once again. It’s cliche but everything around you slows down. You can hear your blood pumping in your ears, and your heart is definitely about to jump out of your chest.
TWO
You look away, watching everyone around you. Mat watches you. Your eyes are bright and your skin is glowing. You smile just as bright as the sparklers. He feels himself fall in love all over again.
ONE
He cups your cheek, turning your face to his. His forehead resting on your own. Your hand goes to the nape of his neck, fiddling with the hair there.
HAPPY NEW YEAR
You both pull each other in, lips connecting in a fiery passion. His tongue curls around yours and if you hadn’t been drinking, you probably would’ve become bashful. The taste of expensive alcohol is very present, but that mixed with the scent of Mat’s cologne and sweat drives you crazy.
You pull away, holding up your flute to his mouth so he can get a drink. The sparkling bubbles end up spilling, dripping down his chin and you can’t hold yourself back. Your lips connect to his chin, sucking up all of the champagne before you suck his bottom lip into your mouth.
“Fuck,” he moans and you give him your best doe eyes.
His hands go to your waist, hauling your body on top of his shoulder. He forgoes bidding goodbye to everyone. He’s only focused on getting you in his bed where your moans and cries will be silenced by all the fireworks.
a/n: Happy New Year to everyone. Thank you for making this year so fun and filled with writing! I appreciate every single one of you!🫶
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starlightkun · 2 months
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➠ word count: 2.4k ➠ warnings: cursing, explicit pre- and post-coitus descriptions (no smut but this one is definitely 18+, minors back off. you do not need to read this one to understand the rest of the series, i promise), implied unprotected sex (wrap it up, y’all— also reader is totally on birth control i SWEAR it’s just not TALKED ABOUT) ➠ genre: fluff, some minor angst, mature (as said in the warnings, 18+, minors stay out! if you skip this one, you will still understand the rest of the series), established relationship, former hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), shortfic in the buzzer beater series (after garbage goal, before saltwater smiles) ➠ extra info: the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i thought i was done with these two but they really do have me in a chokehold y’all 🤧 ➠ series masterlist
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“I’m baby again?” He asked, his eyes sparkling hopefully.
“Oh, my Sungchannie,” you sighed, climbing onto his lap. His hands immediately found their natural place on your waist, looking up at you like he was holding the entire universe between his two palms. You looped your arms around his neck, the cool metal of your bracelet resting on the bare skin of the back of his neck. “You’re always going to be my guy. Don’t think one disagreement is going to free you. You’re stuck with me.”
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“I love you so much,” Sungchan sighed, nuzzling his nose into your neck.
“Gross, you’re all sweaty,” you half-heartedly pushed at his bare chest pressed against your back, scooting forward to try to get away from the uncomfortable feeling of your hot skin sticking together. “Let me go.”
He just wrapped his arms around you tighter and pulled you back to him, a playful growl in his throat. “Say it back and I’ll consider it.”
“You’re such a loser,” you sighed, turning your neck to be able to peck the tip of his nose. “I love you, Channie.”
“I love you more, baby.” He connected your lips, earnestly slipping his tongue into your parted mouth. “Love you so much… can’t wait to marry you…” He breathed out between pants, cupping your cheek with one hand as his other traveled down the front of your body again. “And have the most beautiful babies with you… love of my life…”
You squeezed your eyes shut as his words stabbed you right in the chest, turning your head and rolling away from his grasp. “Sungchan, we’ve talked about this.”
There was pain and confusion on his features as he watched you sit up at the edge of the bed. He scrambled to follow you up, sitting next to you.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” He wrapped an arm tightly around your shoulders, pecking your temple. “I know what you said—the migraines are genetic, you don’t want to risk passing them on. I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry.”
“But that’s what you want, isn’t it?” You sniffled, feeling tears rise in your eyes and a lump start forming in your throat. “Kids…”
“Baby, I want kids with you, because I love you.” Sungchan grabbed both your hands, squeezing them tightly. “And I mean—would it really be the worst thing for them to possibly get migraines? If they were even half as amazing as you in every other way?”
Your hands went limp in his as you stared him down. “Sungchan. Think about how you feel every time I have a migraine, and you can’t do anything to help. How useless you are. Now picture how you’d feel if our kid had one. Our baby. Twelve, ten, eight years old. Sobbing in your arms because it hurts so bad, begging you, their dad, to make it stop, just make it stop, but you can’t. And I can’t. Maybe they get the nausea part of it too, and they’re throwing up, and they get dehydrated and we have to take them to the ER because they can’t hold anything down and their muscles are cramping up and everything hurts so bad. What if they have to get brain MRIs, Sungchan? Imagine them being all alone in that machine, nobody to hold their hand. Not to mention— I can’t take any of my medications from the day we decide to start trying, while I’m pregnant, and while I’m breastfeeding. So in addition to everything I’d have to go through being pregnant, I could have migraines four or five times a week for… over a year? Two years? But hey, maybe they’ll get my smile and your eyes, at least, right?”
Sungchan’s eyes were brimming with tears, and he swallowed thickly. “I get it, I get it…”
You shook off his hands, standing up and wrapping your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling too cold sitting naked in your bedroom. “I have to go shower… I’m sweaty and have… cum dripping out of me.”
The shower that was usually cramped when the two of you were packed in there together felt oddly big now as you washed up by yourself, harshly scrubbing at your skin. You stared blankly at the water droplets running down the tiles long after you’d finished washing up, standing there as the water turned lukewarm, until it was freezing cold and you were forced out shivering. Turning the spray off, you grabbed a fluffy towel to dry off with, stepping out into the still-steamy bathroom.
You stopped at the vanity, the foggy mirror looking too empty without Sungchan filling it up from behind you, distracting you from your skincare routine under the guise of “helping.” You could hear him still moving around in your bedroom, and part of you wished you didn’t have the sick feeling in your stomach that you did every time you fought so you could pull him in and do his skincare too. You loved your quiet, silly nights when you got to put a fluffy character headband on him and apply a face mask and rub in various moisturizers and the like all while listening to music and sitting in his lap, exchanging pecks on the nose every so often.
It was a rarity when you and Sungchan did anything more than lightheartedly bicker about stupid, inconsequential things—you were sure you could count the number of real fights you’d had in five years on one hand and have extra fingers leftover—but every time you did, it made you feel like you were going to be sick, and you always lost your appetite.
Something sitting on your vanity next to all your bottles and creams caught your attention. Your fingers graced over the corded blue and orange bracelet, tracing the five familiar beads fondly. 27JSC. It was a memento now, of his collegiate hockey career, and the bubbly beginnings of your relationship in your last year of undergrad. As your lives changed, the token no longer coordinated with your professional office wear you had to don day in and day out, something that you thought would have made your clingy boyfriend pout. But instead, he had excitedly gifted you the bracelet you were wearing now, a dainty and stylish silver chain, with five small silver letters—27JSC.
You still put the old bracelet on every so often, when you were invited back to watch the big games along with the other graduated players. The first home game of the season, league rivals, and of course the championship series.
You finished your after-shower skin routine and cautiously treaded back out to the bedroom, towel still wrapped tightly around you to protect you from the cold air. Sungchan was no longer in your bedroom, and you could hear him ransacking the pantry. While you lost your appetite when you fought, Sungchan was the opposite, very much an eat-his-feelings type of guy.
Without hesitation or another thought, you grabbed a pair of panties and shorts from your side of the drawers and a t-shirt from his side, the top covering pretty much all of your bottoms. You stopped at the dresser after getting dressed, grabbing the top and taking a few deep breaths. The image of Sungchan with tears in his eyes flashed in your mind again, and you shook your head. You hated that you had done that. But the conversation that immediately preceded those tears replayed in your mind, and your fingers gripped the furniture tighter. Had he really not listened to you the first time? Did he think he could change your mind about it or something? You wouldn’t wish this on your worst enemy, how could he ask you to risk giving it to your kid, the one person you were supposed to love more than anybody else? More than him? It just struck you as a total misalignment of values... something you needed to talk about more, make sure you really understood where his head and his heart were at.
With one final deep breath, you pushed the bedroom door open wide, and walked out towards the kitchen hesitantly. Sungchan had his hand stuffed in a bag of chips, and you saw several other containers of snacks strewn around on the countertops. As he spotted you, he didn’t bring the handful he had just grabbed out, instead dropping it back in and wiping his mouth with the side of his palm.
“Hey...” You said quietly, stopping at the threshold between the kitchen and living room. “Are you ready to talk? Or do you want some more time?”
“I can talk, yeah,” he nodded, setting the chip bag down. “Let me uh, let me wash my hands and put all this away, then we can sit wherever you want. Kitchen table, couch.”
“Okay.” You gave him a small smile, turning back around to head into the living room. You sat down on one of the central cushions as you heard the sink running, then the crinkle of bags being rolled back up.
When Sungchan finally joined you again, he didn’t sit as close as he normally would’ve, but it wasn’t an awkward amount of distance. Just enough to allow you two to focus on the topic at hand.
He wrung his hands over his lap, offering you a nervous smile. You decided to go first.
“I shouldn’t have called you useless, I’m sorry,” you apologized sincerely, remembering the hurt that had come across his face as soon as the word left your mouth. “That was… just mean of me. You’re not useless. It’s easier to get through the migraines when you’re with me, you make me feel less alone and that makes a big difference.”
Sungchan offered a hand out palm-up in the space between you, and you set yours atop it. He squeezed your hand, his always much bigger and warmer than yours in comparison. “Do you remember that Halloween party? Before we started dating, when you had asked me to stay with you during that migraine.”
“Of course. It was... you were great. I fell for you before I even knew it.”
“The next morning, when we were sitting on Jeno’s bed in that nasty fucking frat house—”
That earned a chuckle from you, and Sungchan smiled bittersweetly, running his thumb over yours.
“—you were telling me about how you just wanted your pain to be real to somebody, because after so long, the word ‘migraine’ had sort of lost all meaning to the people around you. I let that happen to me, too. I was dismissive of all your pain and was even willing to put it on a hypothetical child of ours for a selfish reason. I’m so sorry for doing that to you, for making you feel like that, for becoming one of those people. I’m so, so sorry.”
You brought a hand up to stroke his cheek, his face more manly now than it had been on that Halloween night he had just described. “I forgive you. And I hope you don’t think this is the end of the kids conversation for us. I love the idea of starting a family with you, too. I think you’ll be a great dad. I just… Chronic migraines have a genetic component and I can’t stand the thought of passing on this kind of pain to my kid. You understand that, right? Please tell me you get that?”
“Yeah, of course. And I didn’t even think about you going off your meds either. God, I’m so sorry.” He leaned his head into your touch. “You’ll be the best mom. And I know that because you’re already making the best choices for them and they don’t even exist.”
You smiled softly at that. “I… probably could’ve been less… vivid earlier. It was a bit harsh.”
“No, I needed a reality check. A good slap out of the post-nut haze I was in.”
“Yeah, because you would’ve enjoyed a real slap,” you snickered, pulling on his ear gently.
He pouted at you. “Are you kink-shaming me?”
“No, just teasing you, baby.” You pinched his chin and wiggled his head back and forth.
“I’m baby again?” He asked, his eyes sparkling hopefully.
“Oh, my Sungchannie,” you sighed, climbing onto his lap. His hands immediately found their natural place on your waist, looking up at you like he was holding the entire universe between his two palms. You looped your arms around his neck, the cool metal of your bracelet resting on the bare skin of the back of his neck. “You’re always going to be my guy. Don’t think one disagreement is going to free you. You’re stuck with me.”
You leaned down to sink your teeth into the side of his neck, biting and sucking a mark into his skin. He immediately groaned, his hips pushing up into yours and his hands gripping onto you with a bruising strength.
“Nowhere else I want to be, than right here with my girl.” He was already breathing heavily. “God, so obsessed with you, baby. Could stay here and make love to you all day every day.”
“‘Make love?’” You repeated with a giggle, kissing a trail up his neck until you were sitting up straight again, looking him in the eye as you asked, “Not fuck my brains out?”
���Can do both at the same time,” he grinned, scooping you up in his arms bridal style. “Fuck your brains out lovingly.”
You let out a squeal of surprise, throwing your arms around his shoulders as the couch went out from under you. “Gah! Maybe your post-hockey hobby shouldn’t have been weightlifting. You scare the hell out of me every time you do that, Channie.”
“You love it and you know it.” He shook his head at you, looking pointedly at where your hands were gripping his well-defined shoulder and back muscles.
“I’m invoking my right to remain silent.”
“Don’t be too quiet.” He dropped you gently onto the many pillows at the head of your bed, immediately climbing over you. “We don’t have a baby to wake up yet.”
“Slow your roll, you haven’t even proposed,” you teased, sliding down flat on your back, grabbing his collar to bring his lips down to meet yours as you did.
“I’m— mmh— working on it,” he promised between kisses. “My girl deserves the best. Need it to be so special.”
“You’ve been saying that for almost a year,” you reminded him, pulling insistently at his shirt hem.
He obediently yanked his sweatshirt off, tossing it to the side before locking his lips with yours again. “Impatient?”
“To marry you? Mm, maybe,” you hummed, running your hand appreciatively up and down his pecs and abs. “Aren’t you?”
“Of course I am,” he moaned just at the thought, latching onto your collarbone. “I’d elope with you right now if you asked me to.”
He paused for a half beat, as if waiting to see if you would, then continued on when you didn’t. “I’m going to make it perfect for you, baby. Promise. Anything for my girl.”
“Well in the meantime…” You reached a hand down, palm out with your fingers spread, and Sungchan immediately laced his fingers with yours. You brought your linked hands up above your head, smiling down at him. “How about you fuck your girl’s brains out lovingly?”
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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 11 months
Text
X Girlfriend
Pairing: RockStarEddieMunsonxReader
Request: This one is more fluff.
So i had one in mind where the reader and eddie have been together since high school and hes a famous rockstar now and they have a high school reunion and his ex gf is there and shes constantly bashing the reader about how eddie will leave her now hes famous and that he will never marry her and saying she isnt a type of model to be with him (shes a model the reader) and she believes it and is distant on eddie and he notices and he confronts her and assures her he loves her and when he has a concert the ex is there too and steve robin and nancy and the kids who are older are there too and after the show eddie confronts the ex and later he proposes to the reader at the concert?
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You couldn’t believe you were back here, Hawkins High. How had it  been ten years since you’d walked these halls? Ten years since Eddie had knocked his chair over as he leapt up, announcing to the entire class that he’d gotten a C on Ms. O’Donnel’s final. Ten years since you’d sat around the cafeteria table listening to the boys dissect their latest campaign. Ten years since you and Eddie had sat on the picnic table in the woods, sharing a joint between classes. 
Every pair of eyes turned to look at the two of you as you entered the gym, Eddie’s hand in yours. Yeah, they all looked in awe now at the two people they called freaks and losers back in high school. Eddie was all over their MTV, Corroded Coffin’s music videos on a constant loop. You were on the cover of their favorite magazines that they picked up while they were doing their Sunday grocery shopping. Yeah, let them all look at the kids they’d pegged as losers, now successful and on top of the world. 
“Hey! Guys!” You glanced over to see your long-time best friend, Robin, waving at you from a group of former band geeks. 
“Robin!” you shrieked, dragging Eddie behind you as you ran to her, releasing his hand to pull her into a hug. The two of you still talked every single week but with your crazy schedule, you didn’t get nearly enough Robin time these days. You were looking forward to the long weekend with your friends you missed so much. 
“Jesus, it’s so good to get my hands on you!” shrieked Robin and then her eyes went wide, mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ as she realized what she’d just said. 
“Sorry blondie, that’s my job,” Eddie teased with a deep chuckle. 
“Shit, you know what I meant.” Robin waved her hands at him. “I am so excited for tomorrow night! I can’t believe you guys are actually doing a concert here! We’re all coming. Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, El…we’re all going to be there!”
“Seriously?” asked Eddie, his smile a mile wide. “It will be so great to see everyone again.”
“Of course. Do you really think we’d miss it?”
A roar rose up from the left of you and you all turned to see the former Hellfire gang, hands in the air, bellowing at Eddie. He laughed, shaking his head. 
“Hey princess, I am going to go say hi. You okay?”
“Of course,” you told him, waving him away. “Go. Have fun.”
“Yeah, no worries rockstar, I’ve got her,” Robin assured, wrapping her arm around your shoulders. 
“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit, k?” He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. “Love you.”
“Love you too. Go. Reunite with your nerds.”
Eddie grinned, making his way over to his bandmates and fellow club members. You sat down with Robin, the two of you catching up on life. Robin lived in Indianapolis now, working at an art museum, living with her long-time girlfriend Vickie. Nancy and Jonathan lived there too, the two of them married for four years, both of them journalists. Steve had stayed in Hawkins, but he now owned the Family Video, having worked his way up and then buying the Hawkins branch when the former owner retired. 
“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”
You internally groaned, rolling your eyes, sharing a look of disgust with Robin. You knew that voice. It was Eddie’s ex, the one he’d broken up with for you in the middle of junior year. Shawna was a total bitch. She’d worked hard to make your life miserable, convinced you stole Eddie from her. The truth was, he’d never loved her, and he quickly realized it when he found out you had feelings for him. 
It had been a constant bone of contention between the two of you the rest of junior year. Shawna had left nasty notes in your locker. She’d started rumors about you, saying you slept with half the guys in Hellfire and that was why Eddie was with you, because you’d give it up when she wouldn’t. She said you stuffed your bra to make guys more into you. She said slept with your Science teacher to get an ‘A’ in the class. It was awful. Her constant pettiness and jealousy had almost split the two of you up. 
On top of that, she wouldn’t leave Eddie alone. You’d go to meet him by his locker after class and she would be there, leaning into him, batting her eyes. You’d make your way over to the Hellfire table at lunch and she’d be in your seat, her hand on Eddie’s arm. You’d finally exploded at him one day and told him if he still wanted her, he could go have her and leave you the hell alone. He’d assured you he didn’t want her, he’d never really wanted her, that you were all he wanted. You’d never been so relieved as when graduation day finally came and you could put Shawna in your rearview mirror. Now, here she was again. 
“Shawna, what an unpleasant surprise,” Robin exclaimed, sarcasm dripping off of every word. 
“Buckley, how is your dyke lifestyle treating you?” she sneered. 
“Much better than your breeder lifestyle, based on the fact that your marriage lasted all of what? Eight months from what I heard?” Robin shot back. “How sad for you.”
“At least I got married,” Shawna snapped, her eyes moving down to your left hand. “I don’t notice a ring on your finger. Eddie must not want to buy the cow when she so readily gives up all the milk for free. How many milkshakes do you think he’s enjoying these days? There must be an endless string of groupies just throwing themselves at him.”
Your eyes narrowed, “There are, actually. In case you haven’t noticed, my boyfriend is pretty damn sexy but he always comes home to me. He’s never dropped me because a better option came along.”
“Maybe he comes home to you, but you have no idea what he’s doing out on the road,” Shawna taunted. “All those long, lonely nights, you know his right hand isn’t enough company. And with your modeling career, you can’t be around all the time, can you? Don’t you think if he really thought you were the one, that he would have proposed already? There must be a reason he’s not committing.” She paused, giving you a mocking smile. “How sad for you. Well, you ladies have fun. I’m going to go say hi to some old friends.”
“Jesus, she is such a bitch,” Robin muttered, shaking her head. When you didn’t respond, she turned to you, placing her hand on your forearm. “Hey, you’re not believe anything she just said, are you?”
You glanced over at her, shaking your head, “No. Obviously not. What the hell does she know, right?”
But hadn’t you asked yourself that same question? You and Eddie had been dating for over eleven years and he still hadn’t asked. Why? Did he not see a future with the two of you? Wasn’t eleven years long enough to know? You were coming up on thirty. Eddie had just turned thirty a couple months ago. You wanted a family. He said he did too but he kept finding one more reason to put it off. Was the reason because he wasn’t planning on spending forever with you?
You went through the motions the rest of the evening, smiling and laughing in all the right places, pretending it was great to see all these people that didn’t give two shits about you in high school so why should you care about them now. You drank a little more than you probably should have but it blurred all the harsh thoughts in your head. 
“Whoa there, pretty girl,” Eddie laughed, an arm around your waist to keep you steady as he used the key to unlock the room door. You were staying at the one decent hotel that Hawkins had. 
He led you into the room, helping you over to the bed. You dropped down, staring at the wall, all those fears and insecurities forcing their way to the front of your mind. If you hadn’t had those shots of tequila with the cheerleaders, you might have pushed them all down, never said anything, convinced yourself to let it go. But you did have those shots and those thoughts came spilling out. 
“Why don’t you wanna marry me?” you asked.
Eddie stilled, his hand on his boot that he had been removing and looked up at you, brow furrowed, “What babe?”
“Why don’t you wanna marry me? What’s wrong with me? Am I not wife material?”
“Whoa. What are you talking about?”
“We’ve been together for eleven fucking years Eddie!” you exclaimed, rising from the bed, tossing your arms erratically in the air. “You tell me you want a family. You tell me you want everything I want but you don’t. At least, not with me. Are you fucking groupies? I’m not always with you. You’re all alone on the tour bus. Do you get lonely and fuck groupies? Is that why you don’t wanna marry me? So you can keep sticking your dick all over the place?”
“Hey!” he bellowed, lurching to his feet. “What the hell are you saying? I have never fucked a groupie, princess. I have never cheated on you. I never would. How in the hell could you say that?”
“Then why won’t you marry me!?” you demanded.
“Baby, we’ve talked about this,” Eddie stated. “It wasn’t the right time. We both had our careers and life has been crazy.”
“Bullshit! That’s all bullshit! You’re just finding excuses!”
“And you’re drunk,” he spat. “Shit!” Eddie groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I am not doing this with you right now. You’re drunk and you need to sleep it the hell off. You’re not thinking straight.”
“Don’t tell me how I’m thinking!”
“Jesus Christ,” muttered Eddie, throwing you over his shoulder as you yelled and whacked his back with your fists. “Knock it off!” He tossed you on the bed, pulling back the comforter and throwing it over you. “Sleep it off and we’ll talk about this in the morning when you’re fucking sober. I am not arguing with a drunk mess.”
“I hate you!”
“Yeah, and I love you, even when you are being a nasty drunk,” he huffed, grabbing his pillow and going over to the couch. 
_______________________________________________________
“So, you haven’t even talked to him about it today?” asked Robin the next night. 
You were standing at the bar at The Hideout, waiting for the show to begin. It truly was a homecoming, bringing to the forefront so many memories of Tuesday nights watching the guys before they got big. The line was wrapped around the block waiting to come in. All of Hawkins had come out to see their hometown freaks turned rockstars.
“No. He was gone by the time my hungover ass rolled out of bed,” you grumbled, sipping on your water, avoiding alcohol at all costs after the embarrassing display you put on last night. “He had an interview with the local paper and they wanted to do a photoshoot with him at the high school. There was no time. But Jesus, I made such an ass of myself. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s done with me.”
“Eddie done with you?” asked Steve, shaking his head. “Never. That guy is in way too deep. I am sure everything will be fine. The two of you just need to have an honest talk.”
“Yeah, besides, this is only because Shawna is a giant bitch,” added Nancy. “She got in your head. It could have happened to anybody.”
“But she’s wrong,” Robin reminded her. “Eddie loves you. There’s no way he’s sleeping around on you.” She paused, catching sight of something out the window, frowning. “Damn. I forgot my phone in my car. I am going to go get it. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“That wasn’t her phone sticking out of her back pocket?” asked Dustin, pointing.
Your brows furrowed, watching Robin head out the door, wondering what she was doing. Had she forgotten she had her phone? Shrugging, you turned back to your friends, listening as Mike began filling everyone in on his new job and the house he and El were looking at buying. The sound of shouting interrupted your conversation and all of your head turned. 
“What the fuck, Shawna!? Are you that goddamn miserable? You’re so unhappy you have to try to make sure I am too? Are you that desperate that you’re still obsessed with me and her after all these goddamn years!? You’re pathetic!”
“Oh shit,” you mumbled, heart racing as you realized that was Eddie’s voice you were hearing. 
“So, I am guessing it wasn’t her phone that Robin went out there for,” said Jonathan, eyes wide. 
“Yeah, I am thinking she filled Eddie in on that conversation with Shawna last night,” Nancy agreed, cringing slightly. “I mean, not that the bitch doesn’t deserve it.”
You raced for the door, flinging it open to see Eddie towering over Shawna, his face contorted in anger. Shawna stepped into him, pressing her finger into his chest, not backing down.
“You expect me to believe that you’re not sleeping around?” Shawna demanded. “Come on. Isn’t that what you do? You drop one girl once a better option comes along?”
“Are you fucking insane?” he demanded. “I dropped you for her because I love her! We dated for all of two months, the worst fucking two months of my life. I’ve been with her for eleven goddamn years! It’s not even close to the same!”
Your eyes met Robin’s, flashing in irritation, letting her know how pissed you were that she’d gone behind your back and told Eddie. She offered you an embarrassed smile, shrugging her shoulders slightly. You ran to Eddie, grabbing his arm, trying to put an end to this pointless argument that wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere.
“You believed her!?” he yelled, looking down at you with so much hurt in his eyes. “You actually believed I would mess around on you? After eleven years together, you really think that about me?”
“Eddie, no, I…”
He yanked his arm from you, turning and heading down the side of the bar to the back. You glared at Shawna who was giving you a self-satisfied smirk before chasing after him, panicked that you had ruined everything. You came around the corner to find him leaning against the building, a cigarette in his hand.
“Eddie…” you began, inhaling deeply. “Fuck. Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have let her get into my head but it’s hard not to when you keep finding reasons we should wait to get married. You’re right. We have been together for a long time, but then why do you keep putting it off if you think I’m the one?”
“You are the one!” he yelled. “Sweetheart, you’re the only one. You’re the only thing in my life that makes any sense half the time. I only put it off because our careers were just starting and then we were so damn busy. It just didn’t seem like the right time. It never had anything to do with you and it sure as hell wasn’t because I was banging groupies behind your back. I can’t believe you’d think that!”
“If we keep putting it off because of our lives, we’ll always put it off,” you argued. “Eddie, I’m sorry I listened to her.”
“You should be! It’s Shawna, for fuck’s sake! You know she’s vindictive. She’ll say anything to get under your skin. How do you not know that?”
“I do. I just…I don’t know. I…”
“Hey Eddie, we gotta get ready to get on stage,” Gareth called from the alley door.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Look, I love you. You’re the only girl I want. Please tell me you know that.”
“Yeah,” you answered quietly. “I do. I love you too.”
Eddie grabbed your chin, kissing you, “Just…we’ll talk more later, okay? Just promise me you’ll be right in front of that stage like always?”
“Of course.”
“Good. I’ll be looking for that face, pretty girl.”
He headed in the door behind Gareth, leaving you in the alley alone. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to with all your heart because he was all you’d ever wanted but he still hadn’t given you a solid answer. You tried to push down the doubt, heading back around the building to take up your spot in front of the stage, cheering on your boyfriend. Yeah, you tried not to sigh at that word. That word that had been haunting you for years.
___________________________________________________________
“They’re amazing!” Nancy screamed over the roar of the pounding beats. 
“Most metal ever!” Dustin chimed in, jumping up and down with excitement. 
Eyes moving through the crowd, you couldn’t help but smile at the massive turnout. Corroded Coffin had come so far, from five drunks on a random Tuesday to selling out stadiums around the world. This was the homecoming those boys deserved, everyone cheering them on instead of whispering insults behind their backs. Oh, how their views had changed when they were seeing the evidence of raw talent right in front of them. 
Eddie had been on top of his game all right, flying around the stage, energy high, belting the vocals, shredding the guitar. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his skin glistening under the fluorescent lighting. That mane of dark waves was untamed and wild, pieces sticking to his face in various places. As they wrapped up their final song, Eddie stepped to the front of the stage, dropping down to sit on the edge right in front of you. 
“Hawkins, what an epic fucking night!” he yelled into the mic causing a rousing chorus of cheers to rise up through the bar. He grinned at you and you couldn’t help return it, caught up in the excitement of it all. “Thank you so much for giving us the best damn welcome home anyone could ask for. You know, a lot of you know us from back in the day. Some of you went to high school with us. So, a lot of you are aware that I have been with this beautiful girl standing right in front of me for a very long time.”
Your eyes went wide, darting around to your friends who were all wearing identical smiles on their faces. You looked back at Eddie, wondering where he was going with this. You knew things had been a bit tense between you two before the show, but he didn’t have to do some grand apology. You just wanted the chance to talk, just the two of you, without alcohol involved.
“She’s stood by my side through everything. She was the first true Corroded Coffin fan. She believed we could make it before we did. She’s never stopped being our biggest fan. You’re all probably wondering what the hell a girl like this is doing with me? Well, you’re not alone. I wonder that too, every damn day. I am the luckiest bastard ever that she’s chosen me. She is the most important person in my life and the only person I want for the rest of my life. I’ve made her wait a long time for this…too long, probably…”
Eddie hopped down from the stage to stand in front of you, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. Your breath caught, hand flying to cover your mouth, as he dropped to one knee, opening the box to reveal a beautiful princess cut diamond in a platinum setting. He looked up at you, eyes warm, full of love and affection, full of everything you’d stupidly let yourself doubt. 
“Princess, I hope I haven’t waited too long. I wanted to do this tonight, back home, with all of our friends around. Will you marry me?”
Tears spilled down your cheeks, “Yes! Fuck yes!”
Eddie laughed, leaping off the floor to pull you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours. Your fingers moved through his sweaty hair, not caring, completely lost in this moment as your friends lost their minds around you, screaming and jumping up and down. 
“Did you really have this planned already?” you asked quietly.
“I did, princess,” he replied with a smirk. “I told you. It’s always been you. If you could have just waited about one more day…”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Nah, don’t be,” Eddie assured, lips pressing to your forehead, his arm hooked around your neck. “I was the asshole who kept putting it off. I just wanted everything to be perfect.”
“It is,” you said, taking his face in your hands. “Everything with you is perfect.”
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suppose-i-was-worm · 5 months
Text
Dragon Landing pt 2
Kon watched in fear as the dragon touched down in the wide plaza, Lex smiling smugly as the great beast landed.
“Great Dragon, welcome to Metropolis.”
The dragon nodded slowly, swinging it’s head around to see the gathered crowd.
“If you are looking for your assistant, I regret to inform you that he has committed a most horrible sin against you, sir.”
The dragon tilted its head, and the crowd parted. Kon tried to dart forward to catch Danny as he was thrown to the ground, securely tied in ropes, but his guards grabbed his arms and held him tight.
“What has he done?”
The dragon’s first words rumbled across the plaza, and Kon shivered at the underlying anger to it’s voice.
Lex made a grand gesture.
“He dared to seduce your intended spouse, my nephew Kon-el. Do not worry, though, we caught them before anything untoward could happen.”
A strange chuffing noise came from the dragon, and it lowered it’s head to look at Danny, still lying on the ground.
“Do you know what you have done, son of Clockwork?”
Much to Kon’s horror, Danny grinned brightly.
“I understand what I’ve been accused of, sure.”
“You have betrayed me in this, Daniel Clockwork.”
“IT WASN’T HIS FAULT,” Kon yelled, struggling against the guards. “Please- punish me, if you must- Danny didn’t start anything!”
The dragon side eyed Kon, and then turned it’s attention back to Danny.
“Rise, Daniel, and accept your punishment.”
“Oh? I thought you liked the sight of me tied up.”
To the shock of the entire plaza, Danny rose to his feet, slipping through the ropes like they were air. He stood in front of the dragon’s great head, smiling serenely.
The dragon brought it’s nose down close to Danny, and a wisp of flame spouted from it’s nostrils.
Kon screamed as the flame wrapped around the man he’d fallen in love with- he could never care for the dragon after this, even if he had to marry the great beast.
And then the flames subsided, and there Danny was, still standing. He was different, though- the purple bruise on his cheek from Lex’s guards was gone, and he wasn’t hunched over his right side, favoring a broken rib.
When he’d arrived in Metropolis Keep, and every day since, his garb had been nice but unremarkable. Now, having been consumed by flames, his clothing was of the finest silks, with delicate embroidery and gems creating the night sky on his dark robes.
Most shocking at all was the pointed ears of a faerie and his hair- an ethereal shock of white were before it had been blacker than shadow.
“It has been too long, my loyal servant” the dragon rumbled.
“A month without you is akin to a year without stars, my lord.”
Kon took advantage of the guards shock to rush forward, pushing past his uncle to reach Danny. Danny, who turned to him with a brilliant grin.
“Prince Kon-el! Meet my lord, the dragon.”
Remembering some decorum in the face of his worry, Kon bowed to the dragon, who regarded him with one great yellow eye.
“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Dragon.”
The dragon chuffed again, turning back to Danny.
“He is pretty, I’ll give you that. Will you stand with us, Prince Kon-el?”
Kon looked to Danny, who was nodding furiously at him.
“If that is your wish?”
“I care more for your wishes, but I will accept that answer.”
The dragon’s tail looped around them both, and Kon watched as Danny gave it a pat.
“King Luthor.” There was danger in the dragon’s voice. “You made a deal with me- a spouse in exchange for power.”
“Yes, Lord Dragon, if you-“
“I did not give you permission to speak.”
A sick sort of glee filled Kon as Lex shut up with a snap.
“I would have complied with your request, had I not spent the last month learning of your misdeeds. I might have even been lenient, more than just allowing you your life, but it seems you missed a very important fact about dragons.”
The tail surrounding Kon and Danny tightened possessively.
“Dragons are known to have multiple spouses- hoarding them more fiercely than gold and treating them better than the finest of gems. Until today I was possessed of only a single spouse, and you- usurper, kidnapper, false king- you allowed him to come to harm.”
Kon looked sharply over at Danny, but the faerie was smiling vindictively, stroking the dragon’s scales with delicate fingers that were dripping with silver and diamond jewelry.
“Did you know,” the dragon continued, “that the man whose throne you took- who was left for dead by your traitorous followers- recovered well? King Kent is returning to Metropolis to take back his throne, along with his wife and son.”
Something roiled in Kon’s stomach- the knowledge that his father had another son with a legal wife- as opposed to himself, a child born out of wedlock to Lex’s sister through coercion- made him feel ill.
“He has agreed that Kon-el may come with me until Metropolis is safe. After that, it is up to the prince as to where he will go.”
The dragon reached out one massive claw, touching Lex on the chest.
“I curse you, Luthor- I curse you for laying a hand on my beloved, for usurping a throne that is not rightfully yours. I curse you for casting out a friend of my father and leaving him for dead. I curse you for stealing a child from his father and depriving him of that relationship, and I curse you for attempting to use that child as a bargaining chip for power. Lex Luthor, you will never hold a position of power again. Only the dogs will believe the words you speak from here on out. So mote it be.”
Kon watched as Lex started to protest, but all that came out was the howling of a street dog.
The surrounding crowd began to snicker, and then to laugh.
They stopped as the dragon continued speaking, this time to the guards who had thrown Danny to the ground.
“Personally, I do not think those who laid hands on my husband should be allowed to live, and yet I am well aware what he thinks of wanton bloodshed. His people, however, may not be so kind. I would suggest stocking up on cold iron.”
Danny tugged at Kon’s hand, and he let himself be pulled up and onto the dragon’s tail, and then up further still to rest on the beasts broad back. Part of him thought that he ought to have struggled to climb up, but the rest of him was dealing with relief from the stress of the past day.
The man he loved was safe and sound, his father was well and returning, and Lex could no longer bring the kingdom to evil.
The dragon spread his wings, and with two hefty flaps, they were off the ground and in the air.
Kon scrabbled to grab a hold of something with the hand not held securely in Danny’s but there was no purchase on the smooth scales underneath him.
“Peace, Kon-el,” the dragon rumbled beneath them. “I will not let you fall.”
A tugging on his hand again prompted Kon to turn to Danny, who was smiling at him gently.
“Do you want to continue what we started?”
There was a twinkle in his eye, and Kon flushed hot, remembering their almost-kiss while they practiced dancing.
“H-here?”
Danny shrugged playfully.
“Why not? My lord doesn’t mind.”
“I- no, I don’t think I am comfortable with that.”
With a nod, Danny brought Kon’s hand up to his lips, brushing across the back feather light.
“Your comfort is my utmost priority, my prince.”
The dragon rumbled underneath them, and Kon almost thought it was agreement.
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fayes-fics · 1 year
Text
Kinktober Drabble #8: Voyeurism/ Exhibitionism
Kinktober Masterlist
Paring: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
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Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, public fingering, semi-public vaginal sex, touch of breeding kink.
Authors Note: Unbetaed. Again this is not a Drabble, 1.6k, but hey I hope you enjoy regardless <3
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“What are you looking at, my love?” His voice is warm and playful.
You startle at his sudden presence behind you on the terrace outside the ball.
“Nothing,” you attempt to dismiss, holding the stone railing in front of you, but your blush and jitteriness give you away.
He smirks over your shoulder, then follows what was your line of sight before he crept up on you. There’s a pause. 
“Were you looking at what I think you were looking at?” His tone has gone low.
“Maybe…” you murmur.
“Utterly scandalous,” he rumbles against your ear, then suddenly his teeth nip your lobe, and you gasp heavily. “My little voyeur,” he skitters across your skin, mouth moving down over your neck as you tilt your head instinctively to give him more access.
Your gaze falls again to the couple you see in the fading light of dusk. Through a gap in the topiary trees, you can see them. The woman is perched on the base of a statue in the rose garden, her dress gathered around her hips, both of her stockinged legs wrapped around the very pert, naked bottom of her paramour, who is rutting into her at an impressive pace. Her face is a picture of ecstasy, and, although unseen, his is likely the same.
“They should conceal themselves better if they don’t wish for an audience,” you feign shock, your mouth skewing into a prim pout.
“Darling, your attempt at decorum is too little, too late,” Anthony chuckles, biting softly on your neck. “From what I can tell, this is the only vantage point on the entire terrace from which they can be seen. The fact that you are exactly here, I feel, is not a mere coincidence. You saw them and chose to stay,” he hypothesises correctly. “And besides, I know all your tells, and you are aroused, my love.”
You inhale sharply but don’t respond—he’s right.
“And we are going to do something about it,” he adds, his voice loaded with promise.
“What do you mean?” 
“Yes, my dear,” he says loudly, in almost a performative voice, as if for the benefit of the few others scattered across the terrace. “It is rather chilly out here; let me fetch your cloak.” He quickly nuzzles your hair, whispering, “I’ll be right back, don’t move.”
You frown over your shoulder at his retreating figure, puzzled, but do as he asks. Turning back, your eyes are inexorably drawn again to the couple. You can’t hear them, but no doubt they are panting and whispering encouragement to each other. You feel your nipples rasp against your chemise, but not due to the slight chill in the air.
Anthony is soon behind you again, wrapping your cloak over your shoulders.
“Tie the strings,” he whispers.
You do as he asks, looping it closed loosely around your neck. His arm rounds you, and his hand dives amongst the voluminous material as he shuffles you forward so you are pressed bodily against the stone railing.
“I told you I was going to do something about your arousal,” he murmurs, his breath hot on your skin as his hand slowly gathers up your dress and chemise, unseen under the cloak you are now wrapped in. 
“Anthony,” you gasp, but secretly your mind is yelling a symphony of approval.
“Don’t pretend this isn’t exactly what you want,” he drawls softly as his hand quests against your naked mound. “Now, can you behave as if nothing is amiss in front of all these people?” he challenges.
As his fingers tease along your slit, you briefly look around and take stock of how many people are nearby. The way you are standing, you look like a married couple in a tender embrace enjoying the cool night air away from the stuffy ballroom. 
How appearances can be deceiving.
“Your cunt is soaked, Viscountess,” he growls as his fingers slip just a touch inside you, his crude language only heightening your excitement.
You take a heavy shaky breath and curl your hands over the rough sandstone, the texture scratching your fingertips, trying so hard not to make a noise.
“You do so love an audience, don’t you” he gusts. “But don’t give too much away; we wouldn’t want to be disinvited from the rest of the Season,” he barks a laugh.
You bite your lip and widen your legs just a few inches to give him better access.
“Clever wife,” he rumbles approvingly, “watch them fucking. Watch them while I do this to you.” 
Your eyes are fixated on the man’s buttocks as they thrust and squeeze. It appears they are reaching their peak just as Anthony pushes his fingers deeper into you. 
“I want you to do that to me right now, Anthony,” you shudder as his thumb brushes your clit.
“What, darling?” He knows what you mean; he just wants you to say it. 
“I want you to pull up my dress and fuck me against the wall,” the confession tumbles from you in a hushed moan.
“Right here? Where anyone could see?” His breathing is heavy against your cheek, those two fingers plugging into your cunt even faster, the thumb insistently swiping against your clit.
“Yesss,” you hiss, “I don’t care, I just need your cock in me.” Before you married, you never would have imagined saying such filthy things. Now, years later, it’s often all you can think about.
Suddenly his hand is gone, and you whimper at the loss, so close but denied. You watch him in profile as he licks those fingers clean obscenely, then grabs your hand, wordlessly leading you down the steps into the gardens.
Butterflies roar in your stomach as he pushes you into an alcove of the house, crowding you against the cold stone. You hear him breathing heavy and the popping of trouser buttons. Then his hands are rounding under your cloak and pulling up your dress and chemise again.
“Are you going to…?” Your words die on your lips with a groan as he unceremoniously grabs your hips and impales you onto his girthy cock in one swift raw move. It’s been years, and still, every time your eyes roll, your toes curl at the stretch, the heat of him, the steely plunge forcing you open.
“Yes, I am,” he responds cockily, biting your shoulder through your dress. “Now let me hear those panting moans, Viscountess.” He demands, pulling away then thrusting back in, his trousers slipping to his thighs with the effort.
You grab a handful of his now naked bum and realise you look just like that couple you were watching. 
“Harder husband,” you pant right against his ear.
You know the rough wall is likely destroying the back of your velvet cloak, but you can’t bring yourself to care that much as he changes angle and hitches your left leg around his hip, surging even deeper now, hitting your cervix with his tip. It’s such a good ache when he does that.
“I’m almost in your womb, darling,” he gusts filthily. “I’m going to ensure I coat it with all my seed.” You groan, and your fingernails dig into his bum cheeks as they flex.
“Give it to me,” you respond through gritted teeth. “I’ll have fifty more of your babies if you just keep fucking me like this.”
You know he loves it when you curse. 
“Are the three we have not enough?” He chuckles, his pace never wavering.
“Never,” you volley back, “give me more.”
“Happily,” he groans.
Suddenly over his shoulder, you spy the couple you were watching earlier. They are obviously making their way back to the party but have stopped and are now watching. Watching you get fucked roughly by Anthony against the wall.
“Anthony, we have an audience,” you whisper, not breaking eye contact with the elegant-looking woman. “It’s that couple; they are now watching us.”
“How delightfully kismet,” he responds, speeding up his hips, “it’s only fair if we watched them that they should watch us.”
You feel a flood as the woman nods at you with an enigmatic smile. 
“Let’s do it better than they did,” you challenge him “fuck me so hard the whole ball hears my screams, Viscount.”
You so rarely use his title, but when you do, it makes him feral. He growls and lifts your other leg around his hips. You are completely at his mercy now, him holding you up entirely. The angle also means he is slamming against your clit with every stroke,
“Oh god, yes,” you stutter.
Then it's just a frenzy of carnal lust as you spiral higher, bite his ear, scrape red marks into his bum and moan his name over and over, as his vice-like grip on your hips doubtlessly leaves finger-shaped bruises. All the time, he is pounding deep into you, sweat beading on the strands of curled hair that have broken free over his forehead.
The woman watching blows you a kiss as Anthony’s teeth sink into your throat, and you are gone. Uncaring how loud you are as you come apart pulsating on his cock, the waves fanning out across your body. His hand clamps over your mouth, and his hips stutter, then make a final deep surge, hitting your hilt and emptying his hot seed inside you.
“That wasn't quiet at all, wife,” he chastises, after a few moments, removing his hand from your mouth, but his eyes sparkle with mirth.
“Then don't fuck me so well in future, husband,” you volley back as he lowers you to your feet, and you see the couple turn away and move out of sight.
“Hmmm, not likely,” his tone smug as he moves in to kiss you for the first time.
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thepenultimateword · 6 months
Note
please write some fluff hero x hero as they’re trying to retire to get married and settle down 🙏🙏
tbh retirement age for hero’s must be like 30 at the latest. I don’t think they last long.
“Noooo,” Hero groaned, slapping their palms over their eyes
Other Hero paused in the middle of their dark decor, fanged mask in hand. “What?”
“You’re not hanging that in our living room!”
“How’s that any different?” Other Hero said, pointing at the candy blue cape hung on the other wall.
“It pops! Brings some warmth to the room. People like warmth not…” they made a circular wave at the dark mask, “reminders of their fading mortality.”
“Oh, right, that would be bad, we’ll just give them a headache instead.”
Hero stomped their feet together and folded their arms. “You liked it!”
“I liked it better on you.” They stepped up to their angry newlywed, tucking a piece of honied hair behind their ear. “Too big for you. So adorable and bright. It brought out your eyes.”
Their fingers trailed down their jaw.
Hero leaned in on tiptoe, noses just brushing, voice lowered to a whisper. “I don’t want the mask over the hearth.”
“Curse it!”
“But. To make it fair I’ll move the cape as well. Oh! Maybe let’s just have a show room! Dedicated to our mementos! A Hero and Other Hero collection. People would pay to see that!”
Other Hero shrugged. “They’ll forget about us soon enough.”
Hero's bright grin faded and their petite form wilted. Retirement wasn't as simple as they'd thought. It all made sense in their head; they wanted to live comfortably with Other Hero. So many times in their career they'd thought it would never happen. That one of them would meet an untimely end before they made this far. The last month had been torture. They'd probably called Other Hero's mission comm over a hundred times, checking in on them. And no, they weren't so old, but their bodies couldn't take the strain of the job anymore. They deserved to take it easy. And yet. Was that it?
They'd dedicated their life to helping this city, time, relationships, their own well-being. And it was nothing more than a blip in history. Other Hero was right. New heroes would step up to replace them and soon no one would even remember the two of them or anything they'd done.
Strong arms wrapped around their waist, and Other Hero's chin rested in the crook of the shoulder. "I'm sorry."
"Mm. Doesn't matter."
Other Hero traced the scars spattered over Hero's neck. "Yes, it does."
Hero turned around, sinking against their spouse's chest and reaching to cup their face in both hands. They roved the worn eyes, several-times-broken crooked nose, and the dark circles that still hadn't faded.
"More nightmares? You were tossing and turning last night."
"I guess I'm still getting used to not being on call."
Liar. That was one thing Hero wouldn't miss. They were going to spoil Other Hero rotten until all those inner scars faded away.
They looped their arms around Other Hero's neck. "Hey, remember when I used to sneak into your side of the agency?"
Other Hero snorted. "We got penalized at least a dozen times."
"Those dating rules were ridiculous. No relationships between departments?"
"To be fair, you were a TV hero," Other Hero said, rubbing circles into Hero's back. "You needed to be preserved. My training was to put the job above my life. They didn't want me getting attachments."
Another thing they wouldn't miss.
"I loved you from the moment I saw you." Hero grinned. "They didn't stand a chance."
The next thing they knew they were off the ground and in Other Hero's arm. "Everything is going to be ok," they murmured. "Yeah?"
Hero nodded, basking in the quiet warmth and the weight of their arms. After several moments, they said, "Should we start unpacking the kitchen? I'll make brownies. And this time we won't have to run out the door before they're done."
Other Hero kissed their forehead. "Sounds perfect."
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freedomfireflies · 2 years
Note
A angst with happy ending where y/n is best friends with Harry and likes him 🙃
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Do it now.
You have to do it right now.
Your heart leaps into your throat as you watch Harry scowl at his reflection, fingers fumbling with the bowtie around his neck.
If you don’t do it now, you’ll regret it. If you don’t do it now, he’ll walk down that aisle and marry her and you’ll spend the rest of your life wishing you’d told him you love him.
Adrenaline seeps through your veins as your soft footsteps lead you to his side. Your hand gently grazes his arm as you guide him to turn toward you. “Here. Let me.”
An appreciative grimace. “Thanks, I just…I’ve watched a hundred videos, but this shit just doesn’t make sense.”
Your fingertips begin pulling the soft material in a loop, eyes concentrated on the task at hand so you won’t be tempted to see his face.
That fucking face.
You’ve been friends with this face for years now. You were there when he and Jackie first met. In fact, you had been the one to introduce them.
Nice going, dumbass.
You were even there on their first date because Harry had called you in a panic at the thought of ruining things with her before they’d even begun.
And not once did you find yourself falling for your best friend. Not once did you imagine that the tingle in your palms when he was around was because you liked him. Not once.
Not until he told you she’d accepted his proposal.
You never knew a heart could break into such tiny pieces. Never knew anguish quite to that extent.
And you wish you had told him then. Wished you could have avoided months of wedding planning and honeymoon itineraries and him asking you to be his best man.
You wished you’d said no.
Because now you’re here, helping him get ready to walk out of your life for good and walk down the aisle to her where he’ll spend the rest of his life with somebody he doesn’t love.
Maybe he does love her. You imagine it’s unfair to decide he doesn’t.
But you know him. Know his heart better than anyone. Better than her.
You know what it looks like when he’s in love.
He doesn’t look at her quite the same.
“Are you nervous?” you hear yourself ask, voice betraying you as it comes out airy and shy. 
A soft shrug, his eyes falling down to your fingers as he watches you pull the bow tight. “Kind of. I don’t know, she’s…I just have to see her, you know? If I see her, I’ll be okay.”
Well…shit.
You can feel the embarrassment rush to your cheeks, throat constricting with dry tears as you suck in a sharp breath. “Yeah. It’ll be good, Har. She’ll be happy, and you’ll be happy, and…you’ll be happy together. Forever.”
“Forever,” he repeats with a smile, and once the bow is secure, you drop your hands and step back.
Your eyes are trained on the floor. The soft carpet of the quaint church. You can’t look at him. Can’t…can’t see that face.
You feel him watching you. Feel the mood shift the longer you take to respond. And part of you hopes that he doesn’t notice the way your hands are shaking. That he doesn’t notice the stain on your cheek as you wipe at a rogue tear.
But it’s Harry. So, of course, he notices.
“What’s wrong?”
Despite yourself, a small chuckle. Don’t make me lose you. “Nothing, just…excited for you.”
I can’t lose you, Har.
“Aww.” His elbow comes out to nudge against your own rather playfully, and you look up, offering a sheepish smile. “S’cute. Funny to think I was the one crying out our wedding.”
A louder laugh as you’re reminded of the time in the third grade when you two had decided to get married. Forcing both your families to attend as you walked down the aisle to him as he adoringly declared you his forever and sealed it with a kiss.
Two crazy eight-year-olds. Madly in love and ready to make a life together.
That lasted about a week or two before you met Steve and Harry met Lacie and you both filed for divorce.
Steve had given you his Capri-Sun and you had decided he was the one.
And to this day, he’s still sharing his snacks with you.
“Okay, how do I look?” Harry stands back, arms outstretched as if putting himself on display, and with a subtle sniff, you rake your eyes up and down the tux.
“Good,” you whisper before clearing your throat and willing your confidence to remain steady. “Really good, Har. She’s gonna love it.”
“You picked a good one,” he tells you, turning toward the mirror now to get a better look. “Always have the best taste. Which is why you’re my best man. Well, best person.”
Do it now. You have to do it now. The wedding is starting soon and if you don’t do it now you never will and then you’ll regret it and he’ll never know and—
“Har?” You take a step, hands collecting in front of your stomach as you squeeze your fingers.
A nervous habit he clocks almost instantly as he glances over his shoulder. “Uh oh. What? Is it the hair? It’s the hair, isn’t it?”
A thick swallow. “No. No, it’s—”
“Is it the socks? I mean, you can’t see them, but what socks are you supposed to wear, anyway?” He shoots a glare toward his feet. “I mean they’re blue. Aren’t you supposed to wear blue?”
“No, it’s not the socks, it’s…well, it’s—”
“It’s the fucking vows.” A groan, his features twisting into a grimace. “I knew it. I knew they sounded too cheesy. But How to Write Vows for Dummies said I should try and—”
“Harry, I love you.”
A pause. His eyebrow raises. “I love you, too, Bumblebee. But, seriously, is it the vows, cause I—”
“No, Har…I love you. I’m…I’m in love with you,” you clarify, a bit louder than you had intended, but the raised volume does an eloquent job of hiding the quiver in your voice.
You take a step toward him, watching the way his lips part and his eyes widen.
Shit.
You barrel on, deciding that if you stop, you might never get the words out. “And not in an we’ve-been-best-friends-since-forever kind of way. But…in the mind-goes-fuzzy-tongue-goes-numb-life-doesn’t-make-sense-without-you…kind of way.”
He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t even move.
And your tongue does in fact go numb as you take another step.
“And I know now isn’t the time to say it. And maybe you don’t even want to hear it, but…I am. I do.” The words are getting softer the closer you get. “And I should have told you…months ago. But I was scared and it’s…it’s you. And I didn’t want to lose you or ruin anything and I guess I still kind of am, but I had to tell you because…because watching you marry her might kill me.”
His jaw clamps shut.
Shit, shit, shit.
“And maybe I’m wrong and you do love her, but Har…I don’t think you do, and if not, then…maybe you shouldn’t do this,” you push on, a tad desperately, despite yourself. “Not that you should leave her for me or anything. I mean that would be nice. Not that I expect it. But I just mean—”
“What the fuck…are you doing?” He walks back, putting a few feet of distance between you both, and the second you see the look on his face…your heart just about drops to your ass.
Your cheeks burn with the shame of what you’re anticipating is his rejection. “Har, I—”
“No.” His eyes close. Hands raise in surrender. “Nope. No, I don’t wanna…I don’t wanna hear this. You can’t…shit. No. No, you didn’t just say that to me right now.”
Fuck. “Harry, I—”
“No,” he repeats, voice coarse like sandpaper. “No, you’re not telling me that. Because you don’t. And I don’t. And this whole conversation didn’t just happen.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry—
“But it did,” you whisper, hesitating before making a move for him. But he quickly shoots a look of warning your way and you return to your previous spot. “I’m sorry, but I had to tell you. You deserved to know—”
“No, fuck that.” A bitter laugh. Filled with contempt and disbelief. “No, you…you just don’t like Jackie, and this is just…I don’t know what this is but it’s not gonna work.”
The tear slips free, falling down your cheek before you’re afforded the chance to swipe it away. “No, she’s…it’s not about her. She’s sweet and she’s…she’s been so good for you, but I had to tell you…I had—”
“What about Steve, huh?” This time, he’s the one to take a step, voice bellowing as it hits your ears sharply. “What, suddenly you don’t love him?”
“Of course I love him, but not…” Don’t make me say it. “Not that way I love you, Har—”
“Don’t.” The heels of his hands move to his temples, pressing hard. “No, stop…stop saying that. Stop…fuck.”
You want to ask if he loves you. Want to ask if there’s even a chance he feels the same.
You’re almost sure he does. After that one night in the tree house. Staying up till midnight just laughing. Cuddling to stay warm. Letting him kiss you, just to see if everyone had been right.
You hadn’t said anything. Neither had he.
And you never spoke of it again.
But it meant something…didn’t it?
You can’t bring yourself to ask. Can’t bear to hear him tell you it was all in your head. Can’t watch him walk out of your life.
"Why the fuck are you telling me this now?" he grumbles, and you're forced to consider your intentions. "Of all the fucking times...why now?"
You inhale a shaky breath, eyes dropping to the glitter on the toe of your heels. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…I thought I owed it to you to tell you. Thought I owed it to us, but…I just want you to be happy. More than anything. And if she makes you happy, then…”
A scoff. “No, you…no. No, you’re just trying to ruin it. Ruin the day. You knew telling me would hurt me. You knew…you knew that I used to like you, and you just wanted—”
“Wait, what?” Your head lifts, pulse stuttering. “When…when did you…I never knew you liked me.”
“Of course, you did,” he argues, eyes narrowing. “You…yes you did. Senior year, remember? And I asked you to the dance but Steve had already asked you?”
The same dance that Steve had later made you his.
At the time, you had assumed Harry asking was out of pity. You hadn’t known…
“Oh.” The broken word leaves your lips as the last seven years of your life begin to blur. “I didn’t…Harry, I didn’t know.”
He’s quiet as he watches you. Perhaps looking for a lie. “Well…doesn’t change anything. I love her, and you…you shouldn’t have—fuck.”
Another sniffle. Louder and a tad more pathetic. You back away, head shaking rapidly as you wipe the back of your hand over your chin. “Yeah, no…no, you’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t…I’m happy for you and I’ll…yeah. You look good, Har. Good luck.”
You turn. Head for the door. You can’t fucking look back. If you look back and see that face…you’ll never leave.
Part of you wishes he’ll call you back.
He doesn’t.
You decide to sit in the back pew for the ceremony. You were supposed to stand beside him but now…
And that seems to be just fine with him. Patrick, his old roommate, now standing in your place.
An easy replacement.
You debated leaving, but you spent a lot of money on the outfit, and no matter how crushed you feel…he’s still your best friend.
And he’s still marrying somebody who makes him happy.
And you fucking want him to be happy. You do. More than anything.
More than anything.
Most of the ceremony happens as if in slow-motion. Your eyes never truly focus on anything. Not even him.
Especially him.
Everybody gasps when she enters the room. Fawns, sighs, and murmurs as she makes her way down the aisle.
She does look beautiful.
And she looks happy.
The pastor begins. Recites verses. Recalls stories of how they met. Admires their strength and dedication to one another.
You dig your nails into the palm of your hand, willing the anguish to stay inside your chest. Willing the tears to subside. Willing the soft way your chest wants to wrack with guilt and misery to cease.
Then…the vows.
Short. Sweet. Honest.
Every promise that he makes to her you know he’ll keep. Because they’re the same promises he’s kept during your entire friendship. Because that’s just who he is.
That’s the Harry you love.
“Jackie…do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to cherish? In sickness and in health? From this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”
She beams at him. Squeezes his hands. “I do.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t fucking cry.
But you’re going to. There’s no way you can stop it.
You stand, quickly sliding past some older women and snotty kids as you make your way for the far wall.
You crawl through the shadows, doing your best to slip by quietly so as to not disturb or draw attention.
“And do you, Harry, take—”
You don’t listen to the rest. Can’t. Because knowing it’s happening is already bad enough.
And you’re so close to the door. So close to leaving the worst day of your life behind. And you never should have come. Never should have told him. Never should have stayed to watch him leave you. And you just need to get to the door, and never look back, and never—
“—as long as you both shall live?”
A beat.
“I…shit, I don’t.”
The entire church goes eerily quiet. Still. No one dares to move. No one dares to breathe. No murmurs or gasps or outcries.
Silence.
Your heels slide to a stop just as you’ve reached the entrance to the sanctuary. Heart racing inside your chest. Pounding in your ears.
You don’t think you’re breathing.
“Sorry, I—” His voice is quiet. Distant. But you focus in on it, nonetheless. “I love you, Jackie. I do, I love you more than I ever thought I would, which is why I…I can’t let you marry me.”
Somehow, the silence grows even louder.
“What?” Her voice is equally as gentle. Hardly a whisper, yet you can hear the disappointment.
“I can’t let you marry me,” he repeats, yet you still don’t allow yourself to turn around and see him. “I love you and I know you and I know what you deserve and it’s not…it’s not me. It’s not me and I wish it could be, but…it’s not. And I love you enough to know that.”
You don’t stay for the rest.
You can’t.
Because you can hear the way she chokes on a soft gasp, can hear the displeasure roll through the audience, and you feel terrible for being the reason she’s going to cry herself to sleep tonight.
Maybe if you leave, he’ll change his mind. Maybe he needs to change his mind. Maybe this was all a huge fucking mistake.
He’ll tell her he is the one for her and they’ll get married and go on their fucking honeymoon that you helped plan, and why the fuck did you help plan it, and then they’ll have babies and grow old, and—
“Wait. Wait.”
You recognize that familiar voice. Deep enough to sink into. Calling you back to him. Calling you home.
But you still don’t turn around. Still don’t face your consequences.
“Bee, can you please look at me?” He’s closer now, and you flinch when his fingers brush your arm. Flinch at that familiar nickname you've come to adore. “Look, I’m sorry, I—”
“What are you doing?” You spin around, suddenly outraged and embarrassed. “You…Har, what the fuck—”
“You were right,” he gasps, clearly out of breath from apparently sprinting out of the church and toward the field. “You were…I did deserve to know. And I—”
“No. No, you were right.” Your hands meet his chest and you shove him back, head shaking, eyes narrowed. “I shouldn’t have told you. Not today, not right before. And you love her, Harry, and I shouldn’t have said anything, and you need to go back in there and—”
You move to shove him again, furious, and still mortified but his fingers wrap around your wrists just before you can send him back a third time. “Can you just shut the fuck up and listen to me for two fucking seconds?”
You struggle, but he remains resolute, holding you firm as he nearly tugs you into his body.
“I love you, too,” he murmurs, and for a moment…you still. “I love you, Bee. I’m in love with you and I wish you would have ruined my day a lot fucking sooner.”
You feel breathless. Weightless. Staring up at him as if you can’t quite understand what he’s saying. Like he’s speaking another language. “Har…I didn’t mean to…I shouldn’t—”
“I knew I was gonna leave this church with the love of my life,” he interrupts, head dipping down until you’re forced to silence yourself. “And I am.”
Okay, now you can cry.
You feel yet another tear make its way down your chin before his fingers are nudging under your jaw to tilt your head up.
His lips brush your own although not once does he make contact.
Not until he can murmur, “Tell me you love me.”
Your eyes flutter shut, inhaling the familiar scent of him as you debate stopping things before they can possibly get any worse.
And then, you whisper, “I do, Har. I love you. Love you so fucking—”
He kisses you. Kisses you until your limbs go numb and every worry, every doubt, every nightmare you've ever had just...disappears.
Until it’s just him.
Because you do. You do love him.
More than anything.
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In case anyone was wondering, it is now canon that Steve and Jackie pulled an Enchanted and found each other and are now living happily ever after 😌
~ Other Harry Blurbs
~ Full Masterlist
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frenchkisstheabyss · 7 months
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♡ the best part ♡
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♡ Pairing: husband!kihyun x fem!chubby!reader
♡ Summary: A romantic afternoon spent at a botanical garden with the love of your life
♡ Genre: the fluffiest of fluff
♡ Word Count: 990
♡ Warnings: kissing and unbearable cuteness
♡ A/N: I wrote this request for my Kihyun loving anon. As a Hyungwon biased babe, I know how hard it is out here for us Monbebes. I stand in solidarity with you my sweet darling 💚
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Kihyun guides you across the stone path with hands softened by honey and shea butter. You cling to them for dear life, the straps of your high heels looped around your wrist. A dozen koi fish dance in circles beneath you, occasionally splashing cool water onto your toes. Kihyun fights to hide his laughter but his quivering bottom lip and perky cheeks are a dead giveaway.
“Stop laughing!” you pout, “I just don’t wanna fall in and hurt them.” “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You’re so cute when you’re worried.” Blushing, you feel your nerves settle, and allow him to help you the rest of the way. Even relaxing enough to allow your mind to drift around the rest of the pond, admiring the emerald green pads with ivory lilies sprouting between them. 
It tickles when your feet finally touch the grass, moistened blades sneaking between your toes. “Stay right here” he instructs, taking a few steps back and pulling out his phone. Every new place you visit he needs a picture of you. The emotions of these moments will linger eternally, that he’s sure of, but he wants something to look back on. Something to remind you, when you’re old and gray, of the life you lived so beautifully together.
“How do you want me to pose, Mr. Photographer?” you ask, striking the silliest pose that comes to mind. Kihyun snaps the shot, winking at you, “Perfect.” “What? No! Take it again!” you demand but his phone’s already back in his pocket. “Why? I loved it. I think I’ll frame it. Put it in the living room. What do you think?” he teases, making his way toward a short set of stone stairs leading deeper into the garden.
He makes a sudden turn onto another pathway cloaked in lush trees, disappearing altogether before you can catch up to him. “Kihyun!” you call out, skipping up the stairs. Nothing. Only the sound of water rushing from a nearby fountain. Heading in the direction you saw him turn in, you walk a few feet without seeing him. You’re ready to call his name again when you notice a paper lotus on the ground with something written on it in his handwriting.
And it’s not the only one. There's more dropped every few feet leading towards the sound of the fountain. They’re placed near spots where bees land on marigolds and birds hum around zinnias. You collect them one by one, reading them individually, and then altogether. 
To my love. My wife. My moon and my stars, In our vows, I said that marrying you was the best day of my life. I meant it more than I ever meant anything before. But I was wrong. If tomorrow I couldn’t hear, I’d remember the sound of your voice until my dying day. If tomorrow I couldn’t see, I’d be able to describe every detail of your face down to the way your nose crinkles when you smile. I’ve committed so much of you to memory, your scent, your breathing, the way your heart beats against mine, that I could find you in the dark. The best day of my life can’t be narrowed down to one because every day that you’re mine is the best day of my life.
In your mind, you curse him for making you feel all mushy inside. You feel so loved, so cherished, that you can barely keep it together. It’s why you fell in love with him though. Your sweet, sentimental KiKi. No matter how much of a brat he can be at times, let’s be real you both can be a pain in the ass, you never question how much you mean to him. And if you ever did, even for a second, he’d stop the earth on its axis to make sure you know how special you are.
Holding the stack of papers close to your chest, you finally reach the fountain where your husband watches water trickle down the statue of a Greek goddess carved in marble. A blanket’s spread out in the grass, lined with 24 individually wrapped slices of cake, labeled with their own unique flavors. Raspberry Chocolate Truffle. Caramel Apple. Pink Champagne.
“What is all of this?” you gasp, settling down at the edge of the blanket to read the other flavors. Kihyun cuddles up beside you, picking a tulip along the way to tuck behind your ear. “I know that we didn’t get to try all of the flavors you wanted to before our wedding day so I figured why not do it now?” “Oh my god, you’re too perfect. What are you? A serial killer or something?” you tease.
Kihyun grabs a fork from the basket at the center of the blanket and hands it to you, “Would you divorce me if I were?” “No” you answer without hesitation, “Don’t get caught though. I’d make a terrible prison wife.” “Noted” he laughs, beginning to unwrap the slice marked Chocolate Orange Blossom. 
“Kihyun,” you whisper. 
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
You lunge at him, knocking him back into the grass. With your legs on either side of him, fingers tangled in his hair, you kiss him for every word written on those paper orchids. Kihyun’s hands are at your waist, caressing your plush hips through your sundress, clinging to you as if you’ll fly away if he lets go. This feels like a fairytale. The type you read as a little girl that you’d come to think of in womanhood as nothing more than daydreams.
You aren’t sure if it’s the fresh scent of the water or the fragrant flowers. It could be the singing of the birds or the warm sun against your skin. But most likely it’s the man beneath you, your sun and your clouds, the best part of every day, staring up at you whispering gently, “Baby, when did you get so strong? I definitely broke something.” 
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monnn · 11 months
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>Winter Petal✧⁠*
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Pairing: non-idol!Wonwoo x gn!reader
Genre: angst, angst and more angst, one-sided love, reader is LOVESICK for Wonu!! >o<"
Warnings: it's just gonna hurt a lot and doesn't end happily, so read at your own risk(I'm sorry)
WC: 3.1+
A/N: oof, hello folks. the past few weeks has been such a roller-coaster and I wasn't really feeling better. I'm doing better now and I hope you are too♡ since this was due for quite a while, it's a bit Ionger than expected. this is the last part of the unexpected series and I hope you have enjoyed it so far! I'll shut up now and let you read, so hold on tight and let yourself feel while reading this! a little song recommendation: I Love You So by The Walters on loop! @-@
part-1, part-2 here!
_________________________________________
PRESENT
Wonu was busy adoring Jiyeon, while your eyes were on him, Jiyeon’s voice snapping you out of your trance.
“You’ll be there as early as possible. I better see you at the venue, at least a week before. Please Y/N?”she goes on, from demanding to begging real quick.
“I'll try my best Ji. You know how busy I can get” you say, sipping your hot chai.
They were getting married.
Wonwoo was getting married and it wasn't to you.
The biggest heart break of all times.
The thought of Wonwoo being the first of your friends’ circle to be hitched, is beyond you. Wonu hated commitments, relationships didn't matter.
“I still can't believe you're marrying this annoying ass, Jiyeon. He must've really worked wonders for his previous eight lives” you say, playfully knocking Wonu’s head, signalling him to get off his phone.
“Are you really my best friend?! You're supposed to be happy for me!” he whines. You just laugh at him instead of replying. Honestly, you were happy for him. Though it wasn't something your heart desired for, you were happy to see Wonwoo happy. Even if it means that you won't ever have a chance with him. Maybe you'll eventually forget him, you think. Though that's almost impossible.
Almost.
“But I agree with Jiyeon. You need to be there ASAP, Y/N. You know how much of a wreck I turn into when I'm stressed. And all of us would have more time to spend with each other. I know how stressful all our lives have been and I'm sure we've all missed each other, so please?” he rambles, all in a single breath. As much as whatever Wonu told was true, you don't think you can physically handle it all. It’d be too overwhelming for you, with your emotions splayed out and heart on your sleeve, waiting to be ripped off by none other than the groom. So, you chose the safest option – to arrive on the wedding day.
“I'll try my best Wonu. I can only wonder how stressful it can be for the both of you, but I also know you guys are THE powerful duo who can overcome anything. So, I’ll root for the both of you, hoping everything would turn out well and I'll see you on your big day” you say, wearing a warm smile covering the growing pain in you.
The couple radiate the warmest of energy and nod at whatever you said as it’s nothing but the absolute truth. They've always been this way, unbreakable no matter what. You used to envy that, as your college-self wanted them to low-key breakup. You and Wonwoo were THAT powerful duo before Jiyeon came through, it was only human for you to be jealous of them. Now you just feel tender looking at them, there's no jealousy, which is truly surprising.
Days pass by sooner than you think and you're on your way to the destination. As weird as Wonwoo can get, the wedding’s happening in winter instead of spring or summer like the others do. He was specific about this as he met Jiyeon in winter. Little did anyone know that the both of you met in winter too. Well, it was winter in your lives as you and Wonu were both loners. It’s almost fateful for the both of you to be stuck with each other for so long.
If only this wasn’t platonic, everything would be straight out of a well-written romance fiction. (haha, unlike this one)
Your said date a.k.a Seungcheol, had picked you up from your place early in the morning to drive you. Jeonghan had planned all this, since he can stay without a date as his sister was coming along. Cheol was great company, and he didn’t need to have conversations with you, making the whole scene feel alien. You were truly grateful for that, as you didn’t really have an appetite to digest the things spewed by others at the wedding. The weather was getting a bit warm for winter, making you roll your window down, feeling the sharp yet soothing breeze while you try not to feel like your heart’s about to be grilled because of the emotions you felt. Your thoughts were interrupted by Jeonghan calling Cheol, who’s phone was connected to the speaker. You pick it before he reaches, Cheol sending a small smile to you.
“Hey Cheollie, how far away are you guys?” you hear Hannie, enquiring like the mum he is.
“Hi Han, we’re an hour away. How’s it going over there?” you ask, warmth crawling up your cheeks.
“Hi Y/N!!! I can’t wait to see you,” he pauses, the boys screaming in the background as they hear about you. “These morons won’t let me speak to you, so I'm gonna hang up now and see you both soon!” he says, seemingly pushing Soonie away as he was whining over the speaker to you about not being there sooner.
Laughing, you almost hang up before pausing to ask something.
“Oh, and Han?”
“Yeah, love?”
“How’s he? Is he alright?” you ask, curiously.
Sensing how concerned you were, Han chose to not make it harder.
“He’s alright for now, babe. He’ll be okay. I’d ask about you but it’s way too early and I want you to be wrapped in my arms for at least 20mins before I ask you anything” he says, sighing in relief.
“Hannie, I thought WE were married!” Cheol whines, as you laugh at how he’s sulking over the affection Han has for you. It’s cute, how they’ve been each other's rock for so long and yours too. You’ve genuinely missed your friends so much, your heart aches a little at the instances where you avoided them to protect your peace.
Hannie’s giggles bring you back, as he replies saying that they’re over if Cheol doesn’t get us there ASAP. Now you’re dealing with a sulky Cheol, who’s whining at how Han’s pulling tricks always, though you can’t help but just laugh at your friends’ antics.
Time flies and you’re at the wedding, a whiny Chan and Soon clinging onto you as you walk. They lead you guys to where the others are and upon the sight of you, Han’s running over to you. He jumps on to you as you topple down, Hannie having no intention of letting you go. He asks about Cheol, who insisted that he can drop the bags in your room all by himself. You guys just lay on the grass for a bit and he gets up as the weather’s still a bit cold, to drag you inside the resort. Seeing all your friends made you tear up a bit, which led to all of you shedding a few tears as you guys hug the sadness away. It’s wholesome than sad, because of how much these idiots mean to you and vice versa. The friendships you’ve built with each of them is so darn precious to you and it’s baffling how you were ready to throw this all away, just for that one man. Who was now about to be married. Pushing this aside, you search for two of your other friends who were nowhere to be found. In the garden area of the resort, you find them caressing their own drinks. Mingyu’s got champagne while Jihoon’s in love with his whiskey. They’re still the same old dorks you met; you ponder over while walking towards to them.
“Already?” you say, startling the both of them as they were lost in their own drinking shenanigans.
Mingyu is the first one to get up, lifting you up while he gulfs you into him. He’s so warm and smells like home, you’ve missed this puppy.
“I’m so glad to see you, Y/N. Do you need a drink too?” he asks, ready to order one for you. You shake your head, not wanting to show up drunk at your best friend’s wedding. The minute Mingyu lets you down, you run to hug Jihoon. You feel tears stinging your eyes, heart feeling heavier than ever. Sensing that you need your time with Jihoon, Mingyu walks away telling that he’ll see you around and to contact him if anything. You hug him goodbye before turning back to Jihoon.
Honestly, he’s the best person to let your thoughts be and to just sit with it than avoiding it like a plague. Jihoon glances at you, ordering a glass of gin with ginger ale while you were settling down. Once the drink arrives, he pushes it to your side, signalling you to have it.
“Jihoon....I can’t” you say, hesitantly but low-key really needing some alcohol in your system.
“You’ll need it for later, Y/N. Have it please?” he requests, raising his glass and waiting for you to clink them with. You give up, taking the glass and toasting it with Jihoon’s before having a sip. The way your sip lasted more than it was supposed to, seemed like you were quenching your thirst but with alcohol.
Well, fuck being sober at the love of your life’s wedding, I guess.
You hang with Jihoon for a bit more, before a cute Joshua is waltzing through the room, letting you know that it’s time to get ready for the ceremony. At this, Jihoon just nodded at you and hugged you off, saying that he’ll see you at the hall in a bit. The hug lingered for a while which was broke by Jisoo, coughing to subtly steal you away from everyone.
What was with him?
Well, he had a crush on you. Everyone else knew, except for you. Even Wonwoo knew. Shua wasn’t sure if his adoration has stayed a crush for so long, but he wasn’t ready to give up on you. Though a part of him is sad that you’re not the bride, he’s slightly happier to have a chance to woo you. (PS: everyone knew you were head over heels for Wonu, cheers to being the monarch of simp nation. JK, you were too obvious around him)
Hand wrapped around his arm, Shua leads you to your room, informing that Cheol will be over to pick you up in two hours or so. You slowly get into your dress, adoring how beautiful it looks before the makeup artist’s knocking at your door. You let them in and then sit down to get your makeup done, while you snack on carrots and stay on your phone. In no time, you’re dolled up real nice and right on time, Cheol enters. He smiles at you before engulfing you in a hug, careful not to ruin the art you are.
“You look lovely, Y/N. If I weren’t gay and married to Han, I’d walk down the aisle with you tonight.” he jokes, making you laugh.
“There we go, a smile was all that was missing” he says, taking your hands in his.
“How are you feeling, dove?” he asks, eyes scanning for any discomfort or sadness.
“I’m doing alright, Cheol. Thank you for checking up on me, always” you say, giving his hands a tight little squeeze.
“Glad that Jihoon made me have a good ol’ glass of Bombay Sapphire with ginger ale. I think I can survive the ceremony without breaking down and confessing my love to Wonu, while he’s getting married to Jiyeon” you blurt out, jokingly. There’s a moment of silence as Cheol gawks at what you said before you tell him that it was a joke and how they should get going before it gets late.
Guess you are late, as the person you love would be walking the aisle with his lover, who sadly isn’t you.
Before entering the hall, you go over to see the bride and groom. You head to Jiyeon’s room, heart hurting yet happy for her. Knocking on the door, you open it to see Jiyeon, pacing around the room in her wedding gown. She looks ethereal, and so ready to share her life with your best friend. As soon as she notices you, she runs towards you to hug, and tries to collect her breaths.
“Y/N, I can’t do this. I can’t. Can you marry Wonwoo instead?” she asks, voice laced with panic. It’s pathetic how you actually consider that for a minute. Laughing it off, you pull Jiyeon back, holding her hands in yours, eyes meeting hers while you muster up the courage to say –
“Hey Ji. You’ll be alright, okay? It’s not someone you don’t know, it’s just Wonu. Everything will be alright. Breathe for me, please?"
“Right, you’re right Y/N. It's Wonwoo, why’d I didn’t think of that? Anyways, thank you Y/N. Though you’ve always been his rock, you secretly managed to be mine too” she says, a wide smile plastered on her face.
“So, I'll see you on the aisle, yeah? All the best Ji, you’ve got this” you say, leaving before she replies. Your feelings were up your throat, waiting to be pushed out anytime if you hadn’t left the room. You do the same thing you told Jiyeon – breathe. You take a few deep breaths, fixing yourself as you head towards your best friend.
Best friend.
As you were about to knock, the door opens revealing an equally nervous yet, oh-so beautifully dressed Wonu. He’s pulling you inside, locking the door behind, not giving you time to process. You wait for him to say something, instead he just looks at you like he’s about to cry if you don’t hug him.
So, you do. You embrace him in your arms, for the last time as a bachelor and probably the last time as your love.
After staying in each other’s warmth for a while, he lets go, letting you take a good look at him.
“God damn, Wonu! You look so sharp, didn’t know you could stop being in your nerd element” you joke, winking at him. He laughs, before twirling lazily to give you a 360 of his carefully crafted tux.
“Ready, big guy?” you ask, searching for any hint of resistance in his eyes. He locks eyes with you, nodding slowly. Things have always been like this with him, words didn’t seem like a necessity. You were more than glad to not be talking more than that because honestly, you wouldn't be in one piece.
“Yeah. Yes, I’m ready Y/N. Don’t think I've ever been sure of anything, than this moment right now.” he says, lips curling into a soft smile. That smile of his was reserved, only you had seen it apart from Jiyeon, of course. You reciprocate the same, hugging him for the one last time and leaving the room with the feeling of your heart, suddenly weighing a ton.
As soon as you exit the room, you find Cheol pacing around in the hallway. At the sight of you standing outside Wonwoo’s room, Seungcheol is walking towards you.
“Hey dove, you alright?” he asks, so full of concern. You smile so much as a reply. So much that your cheeks hurt and tears slowly start to well up from within the depths of your fragile heart.
“I'm okay Seungcheol. Let's head to the hall before we're late, yeah?” you slur, trying to shake your tears off. He comprehends how sensitive you are and just nods at you, silently hooking your arm to his while the both of you walk towards to hall.
You realize, the pain you feel, is beyond anything your brain could fathom and mere words can describe how much it hurts.
The hall looks so elegant and everyone there look so beautiful, like dolls in a dollhouse. There are lots of orchids and tulips, as an ornament to the room, making it look so soft yet neat. You move towards your friends, praising how good they look in their tuxedoes and chit-chatting your way through the whole thing, trying your best not to think.
Weirdly, Joshua’s by you the whole time, stuck like gum. Not that you mind it or anything, it's actually really comfortable. Cheol had left your side to sit with Hannie and he had taken over. His subtle touches and the way he looks at you – it helps you feel so grounded and you're more than thankful for that.
Music starts playing, indicating the beginning of the ceremony as you see Wonwoo, gracefully walking down the aisle with a faint blush and a soft smile set on his gorgeous face. Your heart falters at the sight and it refuses to function further when he looks at you, sending you one of his reserved smiles. You reciprocate the same, hands slowly being taken into Jisoo’s. You're amazed at how helpful his touches have been, it's shocking.
Gazing at Wonu, everything fades out for you except for the love you have for him.
And in no time, Jiyeon’s walked in, vowing to love your best friend until the last of her breath and with everything she’s got. You can feel your heart clenching, and Joshua senses the same too, as your clammy hands squeeze his unconsciously.
The thing was, Shua didn't need words from you to understand either. He looks at you, his pretty eyes checking for any discomfort and when you smile back at him, he decides not to bother you further.
There's a sudden cheering of the crowd, making you turn your head towards the couple as you see them kissing.
Vows were said, promises were made and bonds were created.
It was too late for you to do anything. You feel the emotions rushing out of you as you excuse yourself to get away from there.
I need some air you say, to all your worried friends. So busy running away from the love of your life, you don't notice Joshua following you.
As soon as you get out, clutching your chest you slump down onto the sofa at the lobby as tears paint your face. The pain is so much that you find yourself trying hard to breathe while the emotions keep nagging at you and drowning you in the depth of the love you have for Wonwoo.
While trying to calm yourself down, you feel a hand on your shoulder, the radiating warmth grounding you for the Nth time this night. You look up thinking it's Jihoon, but it's not.
Hong Jisoo stands there, tears in his eyes but also looking so fondly at you.
As if you're a porcelain tea cup who’d break if looked at any harder.
You feel pathetic, but Joshua pulls you into a hug, letting you wet his shoulders to your heart’s content. Hearts suddenly seem to weigh a ton, the energy draining all while you try your best to catch the breath you never had in the first place.
He's gone. The love of your life is no longer yours.
Jeon Wonwoo, your best friend but also the person who mattered so much, like how the sun was to the moon.
For the coldness in him, he had found his summer. But left you to be nothing, than a petal of the harsh Winter, waiting to writhe away in utter grief.
_________________________________________
A/N: There's now an epilogue to this series, you can find it here!
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bioloyg · 4 months
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I’m back to play with my Bearwolf AU dolls, nsfw edition.
This is skipping ahead and will probably end up being written fic-style but I need to say it now or I’ll go insane. Because I want this AU to be more comedy than angst, it means I get to fuck around. So fuck around I will.
Imagine for a moment, Sydney and Carmen are newly together. Sydney has already made flowers bloom in Carmen’s apartment after their first kiss, so Carmen knows that getting her worked up will result in magic fuckery. Naturally, Sydney has been a little bit apprehensive when it comes to taking things further with him because she’d rather not destroy a building again. God forbid something worse happen.
Carmen hates this. A lot.
He hates it primarily because he can smell how sexually frustrated Sydney is and he wants to map every inch of her body with his mouth like… yesterday. But he’s respectful. He won’t push. It’s just that the moment Sydney takes the emergency brake off, he’s not going to know what to do with himself.
Any time they kiss or make out, there’s this brief blip where he can feel what Sydney is feeling, and it creates the most insane feedback loop that makes him want to melt in her hands like putty. It’s less about it feeling good (and trust him, it feels really good) and more about the pure love in Sydney’s heart that he gets to feel from the inside out. It takes him just far enough away from his own mind to see how ridiculous some of his dark thoughts really are. But he wants more than just a fraction of a second of that, and he wants her to feel how much his love for her matches hers for him. Because neither of them will say it yet<3 because they are idiots<3 who are emotionally damaged<3
Because of who I am as a person, I’m going to say that the reason they fuck for the first time is going to be possessive behavior on probably both their parts, but moreso Sydney’s. There are some outside forces who still want Carmen to be with a werewolf or marry into a family of weres. It’s all pack alliance bullshit, and a desire to see him carry on the Berzatto line. He’s more likely to have lil were babies with a human from a wolf pack than he is with any other human - i.e. Sydney.
At this point, Sydney is aware of many of Carmen’s wolf quirks. She knows he’s incredibly tactile, and she knows that he hates it when he can smell other people one her. Not for territorial reasons - though that is a component - but because it dilutes her scent and he gets anxious when he can’t find her by scent (he’s miserable any time he gets congested bc of a cold). Anyway, I point this out because it means Sydney knows exactly what this woman is doing.
They’re at a gathering with family and friends and friends of friends. Sydney knows the wolves are suspicious of her, but she doesn’t particularly care. Her brand of killing with unyielding and stubborn kindness has a 95% success rate. She can’t win ‘em all, but she almost always does anyway. In the meantime, she’s more than capable of standing her ground and letting it be known that jokes are one thing and disrespect is another.
Disrespect in this case being this woman from some other pack hitting on Carmen and putting her hand on his forearm and his bicep and leaning in when she laughs. Carmen is uncomfortable, but trying not to piss off any other wolves by forcibly removing her hand from his person. He keeps sending Sydney apologetic glances, but every time he tries to get away he’s pulled back in again.
The moment they get back to Carmen’s (newly renovated) apartment, Sydney has her hands all over Carmen. He’s kind of amused by it because it’s not like Sydney can smell her on him. Sydney is just mad that the woman had the audacity to feel Carmen up like that after she (Syd) introduced herself as Carmen’s partner.
Sydney’s revenge is two-fold. Before they leave, she puts a little hex on the woman’s purse so that it’s bottomless, and while that sounds like it should be great it means she will never ever be able to find anything once she puts it in there. Have fun with the Prada Pocket Dimension™️
The second part is less revenge and more of what’s happening rn: touching Carmen everywhere and kissing him and maybe leaving a mark or two.
Carmen can tell it’s getting a little bit hot and heavy, so he’s asking Sydney if she’s sure because the moment he’s given the green light it’s entirely possible he’ll use his claws to rip her shirt off. Sydney tells him he better fucking not, but Carmen knows the thought is doing something for her. So they both let loose a little bit. The lights are flickering in the apartment and Carmen is pretty sure he just heard his dishwasher start, and weirdly all of that is getting him even more hot and bothered than he already was. Sydney can feel her magic pooling in her fingertips as it tries to hop back and forth between Carmen’s body and her own. Carmen can feel it too, and his own little werewolf spark is responding in earnest, trying to cozy up to her magic.
Clothes are off, claws are pricking at skin, Sydney’s words are being sung as she’s consumed by this feeling building within her, and Carmen is growling into the hollow of her throat.
Now here’s my favorite part. Sydney knows something is going to happen when she comes. She knows. What she does not expect is for them to swap bodies Freaky Friday style because their sparks were doing a little tango as they fucked. So now Carmen is in Sydney’s body and Sydney is in Carmen’s body, and they’re looking at each other, still coming down from their high.
First thing Sydney says is, “I need to get my hair done.”
Carmen makes a face with her face that gives Sydney the weirdest feeling in the world because that’s her but it’s not.
“That’s the first thing you’re gonna say?” he says.
Sydney rolls her eyes (his eyes?). “No point in stating the obvious, I think we’re both aware we switched bodies.” She looks between them and says, “You have such an unfair advantage, how are you already ready to go again?”
He tugs her hair to keep her on task, and for a moment Sydney can feel how that feels for him. “Mm. Maybe we’re even.”
He huffs a laugh. “Got any ideas how to fix this one, Houdini?”
“I mean…”
He squints. “No.”
“It’s how we got into this mess in the first place.” She adjusts her grip on him, bringing their bodies closer. (Carmen closes his eyes and shudders.) “Got any better ideas?”
He shakes his head, eyes still closed. “This one’s fine, I guess,” he says, trying to keep his voice even.
Sydney’s eyes widen. “Oh… that’s what it smells like to you? God, no wonder you’re so fucking handsy. You’re trying to get me riled up because you like how I smell.”
Carmen groans. “Please shut the fuck up and just fuck me already. I want my body back.”
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Ringo's SFW Alphabet
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(Source)
Third and final post of today (probably), final post in the SFW Alphabet series, and Ringo's first post! Sequel to this post.
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Ringo (or Rich or Ritchie, all of which I’ll be using) is the most affectionate thing since Paul McCartney. Loves to do that “there goes Elvis” joke to get you to look the other way so he can steal a kiss on your cheek.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
I think your friendship would’ve started after a show when he was part of Rory Storm and the Hurricanes. You told him how much you loved his drumming and offered to buy him a drink, but he insists on buying you a drink. You two are thick as thieves, practically speaking your own language.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Cuddler to the max. Loves all cuddle positions, but especially when he can rest his head on your chest while you play with his hair.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Bestie is basically a ready-made housewife (househusband?). Would choose to do more of the cooking and cleaning, if that’s what makes you happy.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
Ritchie would rather live forever unhappy than break up with someone. If he had to, he’d do it through a letter so he didn’t have to face them.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Rich married you the second he saw you. He’s one to propose and marry very quickly.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Extremely gentle. Literally wouldn’t hurt a fly.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Hug bug (also definitely not a thing I made up on the spot). Wraps you up super duper tight and holds you like you’ll disappear.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Says “I love you” instead of “good night” usually. It threw you for a loop on the first date but you soon got used to it.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Ritchie gets extremely jealous. He doesn’t get mad when he’s jealous, like some would, but rather gets sad. He tries his hardest to work through it, though.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Loves loves loves to kiss you. Rich constantly peppers your cheeks and lips with kisses, which always leaves you giggling. He loves it when you kiss his nose.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Ringo is practically perfect with children and doesn’t wanna waste time waiting to have them.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Rich loves lazy mornings, similar to that of Paul and George’s. Lots of cuddling in bed and chatting until you absolutely have to get up.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Ritchie loves date nights. He loves to take you out dancing almost every night.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
Ringo is quite an open book. There’s plenty of things he waits to tell you, but most everything comes out quickly.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
Quite patient. Probably has one of the longest fuses of anyone you’ve ever met.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Ritchie remembers everything. Like, everything.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
Every moment is his favourite. Every single one.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Like the others, Rich is quite protective. He’s one to protect gently, though. If anything like a robbery happened, he’d try to talk them down instead of immediately grabbing a bat.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
King of effort. Every single thing he does is filled with love.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
Tapping his fingers on everything like it’s a drum kit.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
More concerned than he should be. He brushes his hair this way and that, shakes his head round, and usually ends up saying, “It’s this stupid neb of mine that’s ruinin’ me face.” To which you always kiss it and say, “I think it looks lovely.”
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
100%. Much like Paul, he can’t imagine how he lived before you met.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Despite his big personality, Ringo is actually quite shy.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Ritchie doesn’t like spicy food. Or the smell of hospitals.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
Rich is a light sleeper. If you so much as roll over, he’s probably already awake. Also sleeps in socks and pyjama sets. The socks always match the pyjamas.
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surrealsunday · 2 months
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hey jaime, how are you??
i just come by to wish you a happy new year! (kinda late but it’s still january so it still counts 😌) i hope you have a great end of 2023 :))
also with a friend we were talking and we suddenly thought abt punzel!lucas/elu and we were wondering how these two lovebirds were doing and what would they be up to now, according to you 🤔👀 lowkey miss them now ngl sjdbdh (as well as the canon version of course)
can you believe this year is marking the five years of skam france s3, 5 YEARS OF ELU…
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BTW HAVE YOU SEEN THE NEW MAXEL CONTENT RECENTLY??? well literally all january we were being fed really well (individually and tgt) 😌 AND WE ALSO GOT MAXEL SELFIES IN BIG 2024 I VANT STOP SMILING THINKING ABT IT (sorry i’m freaking out again sjdbdh) their friendship is just so special and warms my heart sm every time it crosses my mind 💙
anyways i’ll stop my rant bc otherwise i could go on for hours 😭 wish you a wonderful evening/day and sending you lots of hugs and strength and luck 🫶🏻
Marieeeeee hiiiiiiiiii 😊❤️❤️❤️❤️!!! It was so nice to see a message from you! And a happy new year to you too!
I'm ok - I both can't believe it's gonna be the end of January and also can't believe it's still January 😂. Work has not stopped being insane since I took over this new position but I'm thankfully still loving it. And I'm especially loving living in a place where I am no longer dealing with -40 celcius through the winter 😅. I hope your holiday season and start of the new year has been going fabulously for you!
And 5 years? 5 YEARS?! How is that even possible omg 😭😭😭. That calls for a rewatch, I think. My babies 🥹. And the Maxel content yessss! I love you for linking posts thank you! One of my friends thankfully sends me things because I would end up missing them on social media otherwise. Honestly the joy their friendship brings me. 5 years and those boys are still tight. I love them so much. Also the fact that Rocco was looped into their little friend group and we have actual pics of Maxence with Rocco AND Axel? Truly... life has been good to us 😌😂.
And Punzel babies? Well, they're living their happy life together in their flat. Eliott definitely refers to Lucas as his husband even though - as Lucas insists - they're too young to get married. Eliott thinks that's nonsense because he's been waiting what amounts to their entire lives and obviously they're going to be together for life anyways. But for that same reason, he's not too fussed about it - official papers or not, they are married in his mind. They've definitely added to their little fam and have a cat in addition to their pup Pascale. The cat absolutely rules their home (as cats are known to do) and is the only one who can get Pascale to stop being mouthy (Huskies you know 😂). Lucas would definitely complain the cat doesn't like him and play up that they have some sort of nemesis relationship. Only Eliott has caught Lucas curled up asleep on the couch with the kitty on his chest wrapped up in his arms more than once. Eliott would be a little jealous about the fact that he's the one who dotes on the kitty but she still seems to be an utter suck for Lucas... only, he's the exact same way so he can't blame her 😌. Second to Lucas, her fave is Idriss. Because this cat has ✨taste✨. I'm trying to think what they would name their kitty... probably something Rapunzel adjacent because they're saps... but I don't have a name popping to mind just yet.
And of course there are the fun dynamics of their relationship that they will probably always be figuring out. Like Lucas realizing (and relishing) in the power he has over Eliott and the way he can make Eliott's brain short circuit in any variety of ways (like saying something incredibly explicit in the middle of much more innocent activities like cooking dinner). Then Eliott will remember he no longer holds his Punzel in the 'look but don't touch' category and things work out quite nicely for both of them 😌. Basically... they're living their best lives figuring out adulthood and now jobs together ❤️.
Sending you all the love and hugs back!
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makaias-trashheap · 10 months
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(Found this in the old works box and decided to dust it off and tweak it. Daichi is bae please enjoy!)
Pulling on your boots you glance back towards your shared bedroom waiting on your boyfriend, “Daichi, you ok back there?”
“Yeah, sorry,” he called after a second emerging from the bedroom pulling on his jacket, “I couldn’t find my jacket.”
He grabs his keys from the hook by the front door and slides on his shoes, opening the door for you. You follow him out falling in step with him at a comfortable pace, lacing your fingers through his, “So what did you have planned for us today.”
“Hm, I figured we could stop into that cafe a few blocks away to grab something warm to drink before walking through the park. After the train wreck that was our last date I figure something low key without a lot of people would be nice.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to fight off the grin you could feel starting to form, “Come on Daichi I wasn’t that bad. We just ran into Noya and Tanaka.”
You had to fight even harder to keep from giggling with the look he shot you, “It was a disaster and you know it, I might as well have been a 4th wheel at that point and they made a fuss over everything. And it was just a coincidence, which is why I don’t mention when we’re going out. If they know they will absolutely show up.”
You can’t help but chuckle looping your arm through his, “They’re nice people, just some of them are a little rambunctious.”
“Tanaka and Nishinoya nearly tackled you to the ground when they first met you and Hinata and Kageyama still can’t be in the same room together for more than 5 minutes without fighting.” Daichi rolled his eyes.
You chuckle again, briefly laying your head on his shoulder as you two walk. It was fairly chilly so clinging to your boyfriend to leech off of his body heat was starting to sound like a good idea.
“They look busy today, it might be better if I just go in and order. You want your usual?” Daichi giving your hand a quick squeeze.
“Yes please.” You smile and squeeze back thankful to be able to avoid the crowd.
Daichi disappears into the shop to order and get out and back to you as quickly as possible. You find a spot against the wall of the shop to stay out of the way while you wait for Daichi. He emerged a couple minutes later handing your drink which you take thankful for the warmth seeping through the cup into your hands. The walk to the park was fairly short while you kept steady conversation catching up from the week. With Daichi still going through the police academy and you with work you’ve both been pretty busy. You noticed that you were keeping up most of the conversation, he was being oddly quiet today.
You nudge him with your shoulder pulling him out of whatever though he was stuck in, “Is everything ok? You seem to be somewhere else today.
He chuckles nervously, “I have been haven’t I. Let’s sit.”
Settling on a park bench you set your cup aside and take his hand, “So what’s up? Is everything ok?”
He looks at you and smiles and nods, “Yeah actually, better than ok. These past few years have been pretty incredible, probably some of the best of my life.”
“I can’t say that I don’t feel the same.”
“I love you, and I think I’m ready to finally say that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“What are you doing?” Your eyes go wide when Dichi moves to kneel in front of you pulling a small jewelry box out of his pocket and opens it revealing a beautiful silver ring.
He smiles slightly, “Asking you to marry me. What do you say?”
You look back up at him hearing his voice and quickly nod, not fully trusting your voice to not give out at the moment.
“Yes?” Daichi asked almost stunned.
“Yes Daichi, Yes I’ll marry you.”
The tension in his should visibly disappears as he smiles and slides the ring onto your finger before you practically launch yourself at him wrapping your arms around his neck. He quickly steadies himself to support your weight and wraps his arms around you tightly.
“I love you Daichi.”
“I love you too.”
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hourcat · 2 years
Note
prompt bc i can’t get this out of my mind: charles and pierre are married in fact and have been married for a while bc they realized early on theyre in love (ignoring wags or making them beards idk)! the other drivers get sick of their “pining” and start trying to set them up and these two babes are so oblivious they keep talking about their husband normally as though the drivers know! and they’re like oh great ofc i’ll go on a date w my husband, but why are you leaving?? come join us :(
OMG! anon it took a minute for me to properly put this one together but honestly, it was soooo fun and it definitely could've become a whoooole fic if i didn't use some self control w/this. thank you for sending!!! i hope you enjoy my take on your great idea <3
(word count: 3,276) FEATURING: Danny Ric & Carlos!
The ceremony is small.
Eventually, of course, it will be big—they’d both agreed to it, quietly, curled together with the sheets pulled over their heads during the last race weekend of the season. I want to spend my life with you, Pierre had whispered, and Charles had laughed softly and kissed his palm, said I want to spend the rest of my life with you, too, and kissed him for good measure—and that had been it.
So in the dead of night, in a vineyard in Italy, Pierre and Charles quietly exchange rings under the bright light of a full moon and a backdrop of glittery stars. They’re not real engagement rings, of course—they’re still keeping things under wraps from the rest of the world, so they exchange their own thick-band pinky rings instead and promise that, when they can do this the right way, in front of everybody, they’ll be real. (It feels like being kids again, almost—buying matching Ring Pops to prove their loyalty and faithfulness, that they’d always be on each other’s team through it all. Pierre says this, later, in Charles’ bed, and Charles laughs so hard he cries. Then he cries about how long he’s loved Pierre, how long he’s wanted this. Pierre just kisses the tears off his cheeks and echoes his sentiments.)
The only attendees, this time around, are the closest of family. Pierre’s parents are there, of course, as is Charles’ mother; the collection of siblings and cousins and relatives will be invited to the bigger wedding, the one where there’s no worry about being caught in the act anymore. A local priest, fluent only in Italian, marries them with soft-spoken words and a gentle touch. When Charles loops his arms over Pierre’s shoulders and kisses him after hearing “Puoi baciarlo ora, giovanotto,” the world shifts. Changes. Becomes a little bit brighter, now.
Sei mia per sempre.
Nobody on the grid knows, however. They’re not worried about their friends being judgmental or anything—frankly, some days it feels like everybody knows—but since they’re still so young, still so early in their professional careers, they both agreed that the distractions that would come with being public would be too hard to juggle with everything else. It makes bad days feel a little worse, and good days a little bit dimmer, but it’s only on track; they share hotel rooms and live at each other’s apartments full time, perfectly settled in one another’s pocket.
A happy medium—at least until someone retires first.
-
The two things that annoy Daniel most race weekends, bar none, are Lando’s annoying fucking face when he sees Daniel talking with Max, and the absolutely insufferable sight of Pierre Gasly and Charles Leclerc eye-fucking during the Driver’s Parade without the decency to do anything about it.
He’s perfectly fine with telling Lando to fuck off, considering Lando will just flip him the bird anyway, context be damned—but Pierre and Charles? He doesn’t know them quite as well. There’s no good way to say “Hey, you two should fuck and get it over with,” to a couple of guys who are kind of your coworkers, kind of your friends, and kind of your rivals all in one. Hallmark doesn’t make those kinds of cards. And besides, it’s technically none of his business?
Although, it happens every. Goddamn. Parade. So maybe it’s kind of starting to become Daniel’s business after all.
It’s gotten to the point, actually, that he’s started complaining about it at home. “Babe,” Daniel grumbles, folding his arms and dropping his head to the counter. “It feels like—you walk up to them, and it’s like you just interrupted some Disney moment. Like, I can hear the music and I feel like a cunt trying to talk to ‘em.”
Heidi laughs at him, setting her glass of water down in favor of resting her now-cool hand on his shoulder. “Maybe they’re just really good friends, Dan.” Absolutely-fucking-not. He groans, loudly. His girlfriend just laughs again. “Or maybe, since they are clearly inconveniencing your life, you should try and set them up.”
Daniel peeks his head up from the countertop. “Like on a blind date?” Heidi nods. “With each other.”
“If you’re sooooo convinced they’re in love, Danny, then yeah.” She waves her hand casually, gesturing towards the idea she’s trying to force into his head. “And if they’re actually into each other, you can call yourself matchmaker.” She raises an eyebrow. “And you know how you love love.”
Daniel sits up a little more. “I do love love,” he muses. Heidi laughs at him, hooking an arm around his shoulders properly. She drops a kiss to his cheek. He hums affectionately. “You know what, yeah, that’s a great idea, baby. I’ll play matchmaker!”
“Just try to be subtle, though. If you drop in like a brick, they’re gonna run screaming.”
Daniel barks a laugh, swiveling in his seat to pull Heidi into his arms fully. She giggles. “That’s a weird fuckin’ metaphor,” he laughs, and she just rolls her eyes. “But I get your point.”
So Matchmaker it is. Daniel figures he’ll work on Pierre first, considering they’re kind of closer than he is with Charles. It’s hard to gauge, to be honest—Charles is always nice and polite with him, laughs at all his jokes, and Pierre always has his mind in the gutter like Daniel, but are those really foundations of friendship?
He probably shouldn’t be thinking about this right as he’s walking up to Pierre out on the track during walkthroughs, but, oh well.
“Pierrrrrrrrre Gaslyyyyyyy!” He half-shouts, half-laughs. Pierre turns immediately, grinning like a maniac. He reverses on his track walk, the rest of his team content to continue walking even though Pierre’s not with them. Daniel kind of raises an eyebrow at it. Who’s in charge of this team again?
“Daniel,” Pierre exclaims, grabbing his hand in a half-thought-out bro-hug. Daniel follows his lead, claps him firmly on the back once before they release each other. “You ready for this weekend, man?”
Daniel shrugs. “Ready as I’ll ever be,” he responds. The truth, technically—but also, literally, this is not what he’s talking to Pierre for. How do the pros start this? “Uh—hey, are you doing anything later tonight?”
Pierre raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you like this with all of the girls,” he deadpans, then laughs brightly, slapping Daniel on the shoulder. “Wow, Danny Ric, I knew you were in love with me, but I never thought you would say it.”
Daniel rolls his eyes and snorts. “You got me,” he replies flatly. And then: “No, no, I’m serious—I was, uh.” Here we go, just fucking do it, it’s for their own good. “I was talking to Charles, before, and he mentioned—he mentioned this club, um, right down the street from where our hotels are?” Pierre’s eyebrow is still raised. “He said he was thinking about—going.”
“Uh huh.” The Frenchman’s face is unreadable, eyes looking particularly sharp. Daniel really, really, really hopes he didn’t just make whatever is happening between them worse.
“Yeah, and he mentioned—I think he said he was going to, um, invite some of the guys.” Some of the guys? What the fuck, Daniel.
“He did.” God, Daniel wishes he could read minds. Pierre is so impossible to understand—always looks like he’s posturing or some shit. Too pretty for his own good, probably. Jesus, did he really just think that? Daniel just wants to shake the kid and shout CHARLES IS IN LOVE WITH YOU, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT! and make all of the touchy-feely awkward Driver’s Parades go away.
He can’t, of course—that doesn’t seem very Matchmaker-y of him—but still. A man can dream.
“Yeah,” Daniel confirms his lie. He glances down and sees Pierre absentmindedly fiddling with the ring on his pinky. “And I—you’re a party guy! So. I figured, I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you should—go with him?”
At that, Pierre laughs. “You don’t sound too sure about that, Daniel,” he says, expression still unchanged, god dammit. “Are you coming too?”
“No!” Oh, that came out way too fast. “No, I mean—I, my girlfriend is here so I figure I owe her a nice dinner, so—” he shrugs, shoves his hands in his pockets even though it is about a thousand degrees on the track and Daniel really just wants to get back to the air-conditioned garage. “You should text Charles though!” Okay, okay, almost fucking done and then—“I’m sure he’d like to hear from you.”
For a moment, Pierre’s expression cracks. Daniel gets a glimpse of something real in there—affection? Infatuation? It’s hard to read, and the crack closes up so quick, but Daniel saw it. He saw it. He’s been right this whole fucking time and now Pierre is, ideally, going to take his advice. Text Charles about going to the club. And maybe, maybe, end this god damn will-they-won’t-they thing that’s been happening for years.
“The club down the road from our hotel, you said?” Pierre asks, sounding a little wary. Daniel nods, although he knows almost immediately that he’s overselling. “Hm. Okay. I will remember that.” He slaps Daniel’s shoulder again, firm like he somehow always is, then grins. “I gotta catch up with my team now, but—I will see you around!” He winks at Daniel and then jogs off towards the collection of AlphaTauri people who were, Jesus fucking Christ, just walking aimlessly without him? There has to be some kind of child protective services for drivers stuck in shitty teams.
Maybe he’ll look into that one for himself.
-
Carlos takes one look at his teammate and, immediately, knows exactly what he’s thinking. “Charles,” he says flatly, and Charles blinks up from where he’d been staring off into space.
Or, more accurately, who he’d been staring off into space at. “What?” He looks a little sheepish, which, really just proves that he’d been doing exactly what Carlos thought he was doing. “Sorry, I was—”
“Distracted,” Carlos finishes, raising a knowing brow at him. A little flush of color surfaces on his cheeks. “I can tell, mijo.” He shakes his head a little, snorts out a laugh. “I was going to ask you if Mattia has talked to you about strategy for the next race, yet, but I get the feeling I already know the answer.”
Charles grimaces. “He has not, no. I haven’t seen him all afternoon. Do you think he is avoiding me?”
“Definitely,” Carlos deadpans. Charles laughs loud, returning to his usual self a little more. “What has you so distracted, though?” They’re friends—at least enough that Carlos knows he can probably get Charles to open up if he really needs to get something off his chest. He’s going to offer his teammate the opportunity to say something about whatever the hell is going on with Pierre before he goes right into it.
Charles shrugs. “I was just thinking,” he says, but his face is still a little pink.
“You are a terrible liar, man.” Charles looks at him, confused. “You are not subtle, either.”
“What are you talking about,” his teammate says, but he says the words slowly, like he doesn’t understand Carlos despite the fact that English is just about the only language they can effectively communicate in.
“I know about Pierre.”
That does something. A flash of panic crosses Charles’ face, genuine: Carlos, for a beat, regrets saying something. He’s never really seen Charles in any other state than carefree and relaxed, and this looks very much like the opposite of that. Oops. “You do?” His voice is small, quiet.
We could have done this better, Carlos tells himself. “I know you like him, Charles. It is pretty clear on your face every time I see you guys together.”
The panicked expression fades pretty quickly, to Carlos’ relief. He’s not going to break his teammate right before a very important stretch of races for the team. He could not live with that. Mattia would strangle him, which he’s a little bit convinced he’s going to do anyway.
“Oh,” Charles says, still quiet. Charles watches as he twists the ring on his pinky finger.
Carlos hasn’t ever really done this before, but like—this is his teammate, right? He’s supposed to, on some level, be a wingman. “You shouldn’t worry,” he tries, and then cringes a little at how it sounds coming out of his mouth. “I mean—you’ve known him your whole life, yeah?”
Charles’ face gets visibly soft. The pink in his cheeks has darkened a little. “My whole life, yes,” he repeats back, nodding a little. “Since we were kids, you know.”
Carlos laughs a little, nudges at his friend’s shoulder. “Yes, I do know,” he responds. “Well, if you have known each other that long—it would be easy, to take the next step, I imagine, yes?”
Charles blinks at him. “Next step?”
“You know.” He really doesn’t want to be the one who says you should kiss Pierre and get it over with, considering there are a whole bunch of details that Carlos actually doesn’t know. “You know, like—like talking to him?”
Charles rolls his eyes. “It’s not like we are in high school, Carlos,” he answers, crossing his arms. “I talk to Pierre all the time.”
“Okay, you are clearly not trying to listen to me,” Carlos says. Charles just offers up a poorly formed wink. “I mean—talk to him about how you feel! It is only going to hurt you if you don’t—I don’t know, get it out!” He throws his arms up in the air, frustrated at the fact that Charles isn’t going along with this clearly great advice he is being given for free.
Charles, who is just looking at him with both eyebrows raised. “Since when did you care about my relationships?” It doesn’t come out harsh—nothing ever does, with Charles—just curious, eyes glittering with curiosity.
He is annoyingly sweet. “I—” with a grunt, Carlos runs a hand through his hair, trying to find the words. “I see you look at him all the time, man. All the time. You are always so—” he mimics the expression, doe-eyed and spaced out the way Charles always seems to be whenever Pierre is in the vicinity. “About him. You are very not subtle.”
The color darkens in Charles’ cheeks. “You’re exaggerating,” he says, but the tone of his voice makes Carlos think he knows exactly what’s being said. “I—you don’t need to worry about my relationship with Pierre, Carlos.” He exhales, a soft forceful huff. “Thank you, but—it is fine. We are fine.”
“Clearly you are not,” Carlos insists. “Look at you. He is literally just walking back and forth from his garage not even doing anything and you are here, looking at him like he is—I don’t even know. Lunch?” He cringes as he says it, and Charles yelps a little laugh. “No, I mean, you know.” Does he even know what he’s talking about?
Charles must think the same. His eyebrows are knit together as he looks Carlos in the face. “I do not know,” he says.
Carlos groans. “If you don’t talk to him, I am going to, and I will embarrass you so hard you are going to want to transfer teams.” Is Carlos actually going to talk to Pierre? Absolutely not. He’s not going to insert himself where he shouldn’t, especially when it’s something as personal as this, but—but Charles doesn’t know that.
And maybe, if he thinks Carlos would talk to Pierre about him, it’ll make him actually do something.
“Oh my god,” Charles mutters, covering his face with his hands. “Please—Carlos, I am begging you, do not talk to Pierre.”
“I won’t,” Carlos answers, leaning back against the counter. “If you talk to him instead.”
Charles moans something pitiful behind his hands. “You suck so much,” he grumbles, and Carlos just laughs.
“Take my fucking advice, Charles. Don’t be an idiot.”
Satisfied with his attempts at resolving his teammate’s disaster of a love life, Carlos starts to walk back to his own driver’s room.
“It takes one to know one, you know,” Charles calls to him as he goes, muffled. Carlos doesn’t have to turn around to flip him off properly; he hears his friend laughing the whole way back.
-
“The weirdest thing keeps happening to me,” Charles mumbles, peeling away his sweatpants and climbing into the hotel bed.
From beside him, Pierre hums, glancing up from his phone. “What’s wrong, calamar?” He stretches his arm out and Charles tucks right into his side, sighing as Pierre aimlessly trails his fingers up his arm.
“I—” he makes a face. Pierre looks down a little, presses a half-formed kiss to his forehead. “I think Carlos was trying to give me dating advice.”
Pierre laughs. “You’re seeing someone else behind my back, cher?” he chuckles, and Charles thwacks him in the chest gently, tapping his fingers against his husband’s crucifix.
“Shut up. You’re lucky I’m not.”
Pierre hums softly. “I am.”
“No, but—” he shifts in his position, scoots up a little more so he’s almost eye level with Pierre again. “He was—he thought I had a crush on you.”
Pierre raises an eyebrow. “I mean—you do, don’t you? We are married, after all?”
Charles rolls his eyes. “You’re just being dense on purpose,” he grumbles, but smirks a little at the way Pierre pretends he doesn’t know what he’s doing.
“Maybe,” he purrs, but pulls Charles closer nonetheless. “No, but—that actually happened to me too earlier.” He grimaces. “Daniel said you told him you wanted to go clubbing at some place down the road from our hotel?”
Charles snorts. “I didn’t even talk to him today, and—me? Clubbing?” He feels the rumble of laughter in Pierre’s chest. “Carlos said that I am too obvious in the way that I look at you when we’re doing pre-race stuff.”
Pierre presses a kiss to the side of his head, then tucks a finger under his chin to lift his gaze. “You look at me during pre-race?”
“Shut up,” Charles mutters, unable to swallow down his endeared, only-mildly-irritated smile. “I look at you too much, maybe I should go clubbing.”
Pierre hums, cocks his head to the side a little. “It is right down the street, after all,” he murmurs, ducking closer. “Maybe you can use that advice Carlos gave you, pick up a man.” Charles mewls a little, closing the distance between them—he presses a chaste kiss to Pierre’s bottom lip, scooting closer so he can properly wrap his husband up in a real kiss, one he’s been saving for most of the afternoon.
“Maybe I will,” he mumbles breathily as they part, and Pierre tsks at him, shaking his head.
“Is there anything I can do to make you stay,” he whispers, shifting his attention to the left to begin gnawing at Charles’ jaw. The scrape of his teeth is both gentle and sharp, intoxicating immediately. Charles is glad he and Pierre have this steadfast rule—doing this between practice sessions would be far too dangerous, and he’s never been able to deny Pierre anything when it comes to this.
He sinks his teeth in a little more and Charles moans. “Pierre—”
“Tell me what time you’re leaving,” he whispers, breath hot against Charles’ already-heated skin. “Maybe I will meet you there.”
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