#[💙] — angst

[junkissed]

love thy neighbor

member — fwb! neighbor!joshua x f reader genre — smut, light angst, college au, idiots to lovers, happy ending word count — 5.1k synopsis — there's perks to having your fwb live next door to you, but there's also downsides. like the fact that it's really hard to hide that you're in love with him. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, one mention of periods, masturbation (both reader & joshua), the smut is REALLY quick, premature ejaculation sort of, a little bit of body worship, nicknames (baby, good girl), not really described but implied creampie, they are idiots and they are in love and it's gross and sweet notes — tysm to @wongyuseokie & @onlymingyus for help choosing the banner <3 and thanks to @petrichor-han for this idea !! fun fact this was originally going to be for skz han but i figured it would also make a great shua fic so i chose him instead. fun fact #2 i am addicted to giving shua's fics religious titles even when there's no mention of religion in the fic at all lmao. it gives me a giggle like how could i not when it fits so well?? also this is one of my few attempts at angst so if you liked this please reblog or send and ask and lmk how you liked it! hope you enjoy!!

joshua should be asleep right now. 

really, he should. it’s 11pm on a sunday night and he’s got his chemistry lab at 8am tomorrow, and he’s still got a couple of assignments that he really needs to catch up on before the final next week. 

but then there's that bump against the wall that he’s grown so accustomed to, and his eyes fly open.

maybe becoming fuck buddies with your next-door neighbor isn't the smartest idea he's ever had, because this is the fourth time this week he's had to hear your moans as he tries to fall asleep.

the walls are thin, but he's certain that you must not realize just how thin they are, because he can hear every sound you make as clear as day. every whimper, every buzz of your vibrator, even every moan of his name, barely muffled by the wall separating his room from yours. especially every moan of his name. and it’s been driving him insane.

really, it’s his own fault for trying to be a polite neighbor. he almost wishes that he hadn’t run into you when you’d moved into the apartment next door at the beginning of the semester, because then he probably wouldn’t have recognized you at that party during homecoming weekend and got to talking with you. 

and because of that he probably wouldn’t have taken you home from said party and given you the best dicking down of your life (your words, not his), and then after that you probably wouldn’t have decided that you wanted to keep fucking him and agreed to become friends with benefits.

except he doesn’t actually wish that at all.

having your situationship live right next door is pretty convenient, after all. you’ll shoot him an “omw” text and be waiting at his front door seconds later. he forgot to bring condoms? it’ll just take a sec to run home and grab some. when you accidentally leave your panties in his apartment, he can drop them off the same day and then forget about it (he definitely won’t). 

he could probably even just bang on his side of the wall and you’d know to come over, but to him that’s a little too far, too impolite. he at least has the decency to send a text first.

a part of him wonders if that’s why you’re so noisy at night, if you’re doing it on purpose and knowing he’ll hear it, secretly hoping for him to come knocking at your door. but he doesn’t want to assume, doesn’t want to show up without asking and realize he’s been completely wrong this whole time and make himself look like a fool.

so he settles for earplugs instead. because there’s no way he can sit there and listen to the sounds you make and not start thinking about all the times he’s been in your bed with you just inches away. and by the time he’s cum all over his fist and he’s finally worn himself out enough to fall asleep, it’s 4am and he has class in the morning and he’s wasted an entire night yet again.

he’s been inside your apartment dozens of times, enough to know the layout by heart. enough to know that your bedroom sits directly next to his, enough to know that your bed is pushed against that very thin wall the same way his is and that your nightstand with the drawer full of toys is right next to the bed.

oh, he’s gotten to know more than just your apartment over the course of the semester. he knows which positions are your favorite (you’ve never told him outright, but you always cum harder when he fucks you in missionary). he knows the names you like to be called and the ones you like to call him. he can even tell which vibrator you’re using right now (the red one doesn’t buzz as loud, so you only use it when your favorite purple one is dead. tonight you’re using the purple one.)

but he’s also gotten to know the way you smile when you see a cat video, the way your forehead wrinkles when you talk about your calculus professor, and the way you like your pancakes in the morning (though he’s never been able to make them for you himself, he swears one day he will. one slice of butter, a ton of syrup, and a handful of cut up strawberries.)

so maybe that’s what makes these nights so unbearable. he can keep lying to himself that it doesn’t bother him, that it wouldn’t bother him as much as it does if he just… didn’t like you. 

but, unfortunately, he does like you. and he’s stuck with this problem until he finds a way to fix it, but just like in the lab analyses he has to write every week, he’s got no ideas. so he’ll have to settle for fucking his hand and biting his pillow so you don’t get suspicious of the noises he’s making, and hope that his silly little crush goes away on its own. 

after all, he isn’t anything to you. albeit a sexual one, he’s still just a friend. and he’s certain that’s all you want.

god, you wish that joshua could see you right now. you’re certain he’d love it.

earlier tonight you’d had to physically force yourself to turn your phone off so that you wouldn’t be tempted to text him to come over. you’d already texted him on monday night and thursday afternoon, and you’d knocked on his door on saturday at practically the crack of dawn because you’d woken up thinking about him.

were you embarrassed about it? absolutely, but that wasn’t enough to stop you. okay, maybe sometimes it was, because the girl who lived across the hall had caught you (on multiple occasions) sneaking out of joshua’s apartment twice in one day and you refused to meet him again for nearly a week after that.

but joshua didn’t seem one bit embarrassed by your arrangement. he always gave you a friendly smile and offered to walk you to your door afterwards, which you always declined, and he always made sure to say he looked forward to seeing you again. you even saw him wave at the nosy neighbor girl when he’d left your apartment once (which you only remembered because you’d spent the rest of the night in tears about it, but not that you were jealous about it or anything).

you felt bad enough meeting up with him so often, but you felt even worse that you didn’t even have a label to show for it. you knew it was probably exactly what he’d wanted out of this, just somebody to call for a quick fuck, but it made you mad. it was why you got so angry about the girl across the hall; because you knew everybody loved joshua, so of course he couldn’t love only you. 

he was hot and he was in a frat and he probably had a hundred girls he could call if he wanted to. with how often you text him to fuck, plus the other people he’s probably seeing? he’s gotta be exhausted.

which is why most nights you opt for touching yourself instead. in the months since you first met joshua, your vibrators have been going through batteries a lot faster than usual, a fact you’re not exactly proud of but will own up to nonetheless.

it’s not your fault that the image of him leaning over you, his thin gold chain dangling in your face as he fucks you is burned into your head practically 24 hours of the day. or the fact that his voice plays on repeat in your brain, specifically that one time he called you “baby” and you came so hard you nearly passed out. 

so really, it’s actually his fault that he’s constantly on your mind. his fault for being sexy… or your fault for falling for him?

either way, you find yourself yet again with your pussy stuffed full of your own fingers and your favorite purple vibrator on your clit (you remembered to charge it last night, after you came to the thought of joshua fucking you on your kitchen counter), wishing he could be there to see it.

you close your eyes and picture him in front of you, holding the vibrator against your clit as he grins down at you. such a good girl, he’d say, brushing his thumb over your nipple with his free hand. you love this, don’t you?

“fuck, yes, joshua,” you reply, gasping as you push your fingers deeper inside. you arch off the bed a little, pushing your head back against your pillow. you’ve learned that he loves it when you call him by his full name instead of “shua” or “josh”; you don’t know why, but it always seems to drive him crazy, and you never fail to leave his apartment sore in all the best places afterwards.

you spread your legs a little wider and moan, rolling your cheek to the side as you imagine him fucking you with his fingers instead of your own. i can tell you’re getting close, imaginary joshua says with a smirk, his hand cupped against your pussy as he thrusts his fingers in and out at a bruising pace.

“mhm,” you whimper, curling your fingers and trying to convince yourself that it feels as good as when he does it. “please, joshua—”

you turn your vibrator up to the highest setting, your hips canting into the air as you squeeze your eyes tighter shut. you can feel the waves beginning to wash over you and you repeat his name like a plea, chanting it over and over until you can’t form words anymore.

cum for me, baby, all over my fingers, he says, and your mouth falls open as you let go, your knee accidentally smacking against the wall as your legs shake with pleasure. you keep your vibrator held firmly against your clit until it sends you over the edge again, still riding the high of your first orgasm as you struggle to breathe through it. joshua loves to overstimulate you, until all you can do is weakly push at his hands and beg him to leave your exhausted cunt alone.

the post-orgasm clarity soon starts to hit and you’re left with the realization that you just got off from pretending your neighbor is just as in love with you as you are with him. absolutely pathetic. 

but your eyes are starting to droop and you’re quickly finding that you’re too tired to stay awake to think about how much of a loser you are, so you tuck your favorite vibrator back into its spot in your drawer and put your pajamas back on and tuck yourself into bed, trying not to wish joshua was there beside you instead of infinitely far away on the other side of the wall.

when joshua wakes up the next morning, he half expects you to be waiting outside his door again.

of course anyone would be annoyed at being woken up by their neighbor before 7am, but then you’d sheepishly told him that you’d had the most insane wet dream about him and he’d been more than happy to let you come in and bounce yourself on his lap while he watched the early morning sunlight stream through his bedroom window onto your cheeks. 

pretty much the perfect morning, in his eyes, except for the fact that you hadn’t slept in his bed with him. you never sleep over and it’s obvious why, but maybe it’s for good reason: he won’t get so attached to you.

unfortunately, though, this morning you aren’t waiting for him, so he trudges to his kitchen to make himself one lonely cup of coffee and one lonely stack of frozen waffles and get ready for his day.

he’s started noticing patterns about when and why you text him, and he finds himself checking his phone all day. 

on mondays, because you have all your classes on those days and you’re already exhausted so why not get fucked within an inch of your life before you settle in for the night?

on thursdays, usually in the afternoons because both your schedules happen to line up where he’s just finished his work shift and you’re on your break between classes so it leaves the perfect amount of time for him to eat you out.

if you have a particularly hectic morning you’ll text him right away and ask him if he’d come over once you get home that night, and he’ll reply that he can’t wait with a big red heart emoji.

in fact, most of the times you want to see him is when you’re stressed or upset, which makes sense to him but at the same time makes him a little disappointed. he hopes that you’d want to see him on your happiest days, because any day he gets to see you is automatically his happiest day. but he supposes that’s where you’ve drawn the line, and he’ll have to be okay with that.

joshua’s restless through his chem lab this morning, and then his english lecture, and then his shift at work, not-so patiently awaiting you to ask him about his plans tonight.

but you don’t text him at all on monday, and you don’t text him on tuesday, either. he catches you going into your apartment at the same time he’s leaving on wednesday, and he waves as usual but you just give him a small nod and hurriedly close your door behind you. he’s almost positive you’ll text him on thursday, but your lunch hour comes and goes without a word.

he almost never texts you first, because you text him so often and most of the time he’s already thinking about you anyway. so when sunday rolls around again and he still hasn’t heard anything from you, he thinks maybe you’re waiting for him to say something first this time.

he knows you’ve been home, because he’s heard your friends coming and going. maybe you’ve just been busy with other things and didn’t mean to ghost him. sure, you get together pretty often, but that doesn’t mean it’ll happen every single week. plans change and that’s fine, and it is right before finals week after all. 

but even when you’re on your period and aren’t in the mood to see him, you usually send a text as a heads up, and he’s definitely not keeping track or anything but this week shouldn’t be one of them. he’s going through every possibility he can think of as to why you’ve seemingly disappeared, but he just can’t find a reason why.

but then he realizes something else; he’s stopped hearing you at night, too. and then he really starts to worry, because he remembers how upset you looked when he saw you in the hall and maybe something really awful happened to you and he’s been pouting in his room like a selfish idiot this whole time.

so he pulls up your contact, cursor blinking over the text box as he tries to figure out what to say.

hey, he decides on, and he’s surprised but happy when you read the message right away. 

he waits a moment, but you don’t respond, so he texts again. you can talk to me, you know? about other stuff. i’m your friend.

he shakes his head and deletes that last sentence before pressing send. you read it immediately again, but it’s a long and agonizing few minutes before you reply.

okay

he frowns, not knowing what to say back. did i do something and make you mad? you seem upset and i’m sorry.

it’s nothing. don’t worry

joshua wants to say, but i do worry, but he knows that might be too far and he’s still not even sure what’s wrong. 

so instead he stands up and walks out his front door, leaving his phone on his bed. he may be an idiot, but the least he can do is try to act like your friend.

you don’t answer when he knocks, so he calls your name. “i know you’re home, i can hear you through the wall.”

finally the lock clicks, and you open your door just a crack. “what do you mean, you can hear through the wall?”

he pauses. “i can hear you… walking around, and stuff. making noise. the walls are thin.” so you really didn’t know? oh god, now he feels like an asshole for listening, even if he was trying not to.

“oh. well.” you sigh and close your eyes, inhaling. “that’s embarrassing.”

“can we talk?” joshua asks, suddenly feeling exposed. he’s plenty comfortable in large groups of people, but when he’s around you he wants to hold you tight and keep you secret and safe, out of sight of any wandering eyes. standing out in the hallway where anyone could hear is not how he’d like this to go.

“sure,” you mumble, swinging your door open for him to come inside.

you close the door but don’t move from behind it, standing like you’re waiting for him to say something. so he does.

“listen. i know whatever this is, is messy,” he starts, gesturing between the two of you. “but you’re my friend, and i care about you and i want you to be happy.” he sighs. “so please tell me what’s wrong, because not texting you has been really weird, and if you want to end this then that’s fine and i’ll leave you alone, but don’t just ghost me. we’re still neighbors and i’m not a fan of awkward hallway conversations.”

you crack a smile for a second, but it quickly fades. “do you want to end this?”

“no, not really. but i don’t want you to feel like you have to keep doing this if you don’t like it.”

“i thought it was pretty obvious i did like it,” you say with an almost laugh. 

he stares at you quietly. “then what’s going on?”

“i want to keep doing this, but i just… i don’t think i can,” you say, avoiding his eyes. “at least not like this.”

“what do you mean, ‘like this’?”

“joshua, because i like you. and i feel awful because i know we’re not on the same page and it feels like i’m taking advantage of you because you probably have a dozen other women telling you the exact same thing and it’s probably exhausting and it’s not what you want!”

his face contorts in shock at your words. “well, first, that’s not at all true. and second of all, stop trying to guess what i want without just talking to me. what is it that you want?”

“you! i don’t know. i don’t know what i want anymore,” you say, covering your face with your hands. 

joshua’s not sure if he should hug you or not, but he really, really wants to. “is that all that’s been bothering you this week?” he asks softly.

“yeah,” you say, moving your hands but still avoiding his eyes. “it’s stupid. i know, and i’m sorry.”

he laughs, and you look up at him like he’s crazy. “you don’t have anything to be sorry for,” he says. “i’m sorry. because for months i’ve been wishing we could change this but i never said anything because this is what i thought you wanted.”

you keep staring at him, but he can’t read the emotion on your face. “so… what is this, then?”

“i’ll be whatever you want me to be for you. your fuck buddy, or your friend, or your boyfriend, whatever.”

“you really don’t see other people?” you ask, still unsure.

now it’s joshua’s turn to look at you like you’re crazy. “no, why would i want to? i don’t care if you do, but with how often you text me it sounds like you don’t, either.”

“i just figured— nevermind,” you sigh.

“can i give you a hug?” he asks after a minute. “we’ve been sleeping together the whole semester, and i don’t think i’ve ever given you a real, proper hug.”

you smile, and seeing that instantly makes his day. “yes, please.”

his arms feel secure around you, and his chest is warm against your cheek. with a sigh you close your eyes, breathing in the smell of his cologne that you’ve been trying to push out of your brain for weeks.

you stand there for a while, neither of you making any moves to pull away. it's been a really, really long week without joshua and you didn’t realize how badly you missed him until this moment.

“so about the walls thing—”

“hm?” he mumbles.

“—you can really hear everything?”

he laughs. “oh, yeah. your bedroom is right next to mine. been having trouble sleeping for so long because i kept hearing you moan my name and it got me hard every time.”

your cheeks burn in embarrassment. “joshua, i’m so sorry! if i had known—”

he shakes his head, cutting you off. “you can make it up to me by telling me everything you were thinking about.”

“probably nothing you don't already know,” you grin shyly.

“probably, but i wanna hear you say it anyway.”

you lean away from him a little bit, releasing your arms from around him to rest against his chest. “i should've known this is why you wanted to come over,” you say, pretending to be mad, but you can already feel the tingling feeling building up in your stomach at the thought.

“it's not,” he replies smoothly, “but i did miss waking up to you knocking on my door.”

you pout. “that was only that one time!”

“doesn't mean it has to be the last.”

heat creeps up into your cheeks and you glance away from him, gaze trained on his shoulder. 

“you really wanna know what i was thinking about?” you ask, finally building up the courage to look back up at his face.

“of course i do.” his eyes are sparkling as he watches you, and you can't exactly identify the emotion but you know it makes your heart flutter.

“well,” you start, “it was different every time, but most of the time it started like this.” you trail your hands down his torso, pausing when they reach his hips. he stays silent, eyes fixed on your movements and a little smile on his face that you don't think he even realizes he's doing.

“and then…” you look down, a little surprised to notice the bulge in his pants already there. you place your hand over him gently and look up, waiting for him to say something, but he doesn't stop you.

you clear your throat and start again. “and then, you'd sit on the couch and let me gag on your cock for a while.”

you start to push on his hips, backing him into your living room. he’s enjoying this way more than he should be, but then again, you basically just confessed your love to him so it’s kind of the best day of his life.

the back of his thighs hits the arm rest of your couch, but before you can move him any further his hands pull you flush against his body, his bulge pressing into your stomach. 

“how about we skip that part for another day?” he says, his voice low. “tell me what happens after.”

you try your best to hold back a moan, suddenly losing your ability to speak. you can practically feel his cock throbbing through his clothes and it makes it impossible to come up with a coherent sentence.

“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he hums, hands still firmly gripping your hips, and if your brain hadn’t short-circuited already then it definitely has now. “been hearing you in your room for weeks, i know how loud you like to be.”

“that’s not fair,” you finally manage, still trying to collect your thoughts.

joshua leans forward to kiss your neck, gently at first but quickly growing harsher, and you’re sure he can feel your pulse jump every time his teeth graze your skin. 

“fuck, just like that,” you whimper, “exactly like that, shua—”

after a minute he hums and glances up at you through his lashes, clearly waiting for you to keep talking.

“we’d make out for a while, and then you—you’d fuck me on the floor,” you gasp out. joshua moans against your skin, and it’s only then that you realize your hands have found their way to his hair, tugging on it to urge him on.

your fingers loosen and he pulls away, the corners of his lips wet with saliva. “on the floor? you deserve better than that, baby,” he tsks. “can i take you to bed instead?”

“please,” you whine softly, suddenly feeling unbearably eager to fuck him. all week you’ve been using every last ounce of your energy to avoid thinking about joshua, but now that he’s here in front of you and way too willing to play into your fantasies, all the emotions you’ve been holding in are spilling out, and you don’t feel like containing them anymore.

you grab his hand and it’s like you can’t make it to your room fast enough, falling onto your bed and pulling him down on top of you. by then you’ve both forgotten the conversation you were having before because you’re too busy desperately pressing your lips against his, barely remembering to breathe as he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you and what were you even talking about again?

your brain is clouded when he finally pulls away with a gasp, kissing your cheek and your neck once more. his hands slip beneath your shirt and tug it over your head, making his way between your breasts and down your stomach and leaving more kisses as he goes. your skin burns with each touch, gentle lips and not-so-gentle hands covering every inch of you until you feel like your whole body is on fire.

he sits up just long enough to pull his own shirt off and now it’s your turn to touch, your hands instantly finding his chest as you trace your fingertips down his abs.

“how do you want me?” joshua groans, his hands joining yours at his hips to help him push his pants to the ground.

“fuck… missionary? just like this?” you say as you kick your pants and panties off in a rush, wrapping your legs around his waist.

his cock brushes against your stomach and you sigh out a moan, your hands moving up to grab at his biceps. he doesn’t say another word as he runs his tip through your folds, his attention fixated on your pussy and how you’re already dripping for him. for a second he forgets where he is and what he’s doing, so engrossed with the sight of you and how fucking glad he is that he didn’t lose you because you’re both idiots that assume too much about what the other wants instead of communicating your feelings like normal adults.

you let out a little noise and his eyes flick back up to your face, his gaze immediately softening at the blissful expression on your face. to think, he could’ve been seeing you like this the whole time if he had the balls to admit how he felt sooner. but there’s plenty of time for him to pout about it later because right now you need him, and he needs you, too, so why waste time thinking about that when he can think about how good you look taking his cock?

he leans down because he can’t resist kissing your beautiful face one more time, and finally he pushes into you, letting out a loud whine at the same time you moan his name. the sound of your voices joined together goes straight to his dick as he pulls almost all the way out, thrusting back into you with renewed energy.

“baby— fuck,” he groans, his grip on your body tightening as his thrusts begin to grow faster and rougher. “so good to me.”

you clench hard around him at the nickname, clinging onto him as you squeeze your eyes shut.

and then without warning everything hits you all at once, and you go boneless in his arms as he whimpers and groans and gasps and holds you tight and he probably told you he loves you about a million times as he was cumming too but you can’t hear anything as you lay exhausted on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with your ears ringing.

even with his shaking hands you can still feel the gentleness in joshua’s touch as you start to come back down, the warmth of his breath on your cheek as his fingers lightly brush your hair out of your face, feeling him twitch inside you before he slowly pulls out. 

with his own orgasm following just barely after yours that was probably some kind of record for the fastest round ever, but you don’t even have the strength to care. so what if he usually fucks you for hours on end? all you care about is the fact that he’s tracing your collarbones with a fucked-out little smile on his face and it’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

with a soft grunt he stands up, and you call out his name with all the energy you have left.

“joshua?”

“mhm?”

“can you stay?” you ask, and somehow you both know you’re talking about more than just for the next few minutes.

he smiles. “wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else.” and when he comes back with a towel and a wet wipe and apologizes for how fast it all was and promises to give you more whenever you want because he’s officially yours now, you know he’s telling the truth.

even when he’s doing nothing at all, joshua never fails to make your head spin. 

laying in the dark with you, his fingers absentmindedly twirling your hair as you snuggle into his chest, you can’t even begin to find the words to explain how good it feels knowing he loves you and you love him back. 

but it doesn’t seem like he needs words right now. all he needs is you.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[chiyokoemilia]

chapters of us (a bookstore romance)

ᰔ series. chapters of us (a bookstore romance)

ᰔ pairing. - architect/carpenter gojo satoru x bookstore owner reader

ᰔ summary. your love life is as quiet as the shelves of your bookstore. seeking a change, you sign up for a dating app and become captivated by a picture-less/nameless profile—belonging to none other than gojo satoru, a charming architect with a complicated past. your online connection sparks with undeniable chemistry, but you remain unaware that the man you’re drawn to is also your neighbor next door. when he unexpectedly walks into your cozy bookstore, your world shifts. as you navigate feelings for both the mystery man online and the neighbor who feels like a heartbeat away, hidden truths loom over you. can love blossom amid secrets, or will the shadows of your pasts eclipse your stories before it even begins?

ᰔ word count. tbs

ᰔ fic warnings. contains explicit sexual content, guy-next-door, romantic tension, rough sex, age difference (gojo is 32, reader 23), themes of self-doubt, angst, insecurities, heartbreak, and emotional trauma. explicit smut, self-destructive behavior, violence, he falls first and is down bad, illnesses, divorce, complicated relationship/pining, alcohol use. happy ending. ᰔ genre/tags. age difference (9 years), neighbors to lovers, slow burn, romantic tension, emotional depth, self-discovery, secrets, heartbreak, healing. 18+ ᰔ status: in progress ᰔ ao3 + wattpad

ᰔ navigation: chapter list: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | epilogue

ᰔ story details: c.o.u q&a, gallery: gojo’s aesthetic, readers aesthetic, bookstore, workshop, gojo headcannons, ᰔ taglist: — (open! comment if you'd like to be tagged for future chapters)

© chiyokoemilia. please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works.

[dustykneed]

good luck, babes! 💙💛

maybe i should write a fic. hmm

(edit: if you wanted to know my personal interpretation... watch the can in bones' hand. and the colors mean things loll. i think i'll make an explanation tomorrow just for fun)

[k8katdoodles]

RAGBRO GHOST HUNTERS! 👻👻👻👻

[senseichaos]

Howdy howdy! I ADORED "You Can't Run. Hell. You Can't Even Hide" The balance between absolute fear, dizzy hypnotic confusion, and wide eyed admiration that the reader character holds for Vox is immaculate! Also them calling him Mister Vox is just Chef's kiss (it is WAY too hard to find xReader fics or even just fics in general where the honorific is Mister (C/N) and I love every one I find). The clothing change moment was probably my favorite, I'll always be a sucker for the representation of being broken and rebuilt in someone's image combined with the gift of pretty clothes. I keep going back to reread the whole story.

I know it's a oneshot, but since your requests are open, I figured I'd shoot my shot and ask if you would make a part two where Mister Vox just wrecks us, preferably sexually. We did leave off on him finding us trying to run away, do we not deserve to be punished for such an offense after all he's done for us? I also would love to see if/how much Vox has to push us to slowly become happy to be his, if that's something he wants (I could imagine having a rowdy unwilling runaway as his possession would get frustrating after awhile and be terrible for his image). There's honestly so much potential for what could happen next, and even though I could stew in my imagination, I would very much love to be at the mercy of your interpretation of the funky TV man a little longer.

That said, take your time, I know you've gotten a huge influx of Hazbin requests, hell I wouldn't be surprised if someone else already requested something similar to what I requested. I also understand if you can't/don't want to fulfill this request for any reason, that's what makes it a request. No matter what, you're an amazing writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!

💙✨

AAAAAAH!! I love you sm! When I saw this request I knew I had to do it at some point! I'm giving you the name 💙 anon from now on so if you request again I know it's you!

_______

Forever and always

(part 2 to: You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either)

Summary: After that day you attempted to escape from Vox, you had become somewhat accustomed to this new life you are forced to be living. Or you were until Vox gives you your first day off, causing you to find something out that would change how you live forever.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Horror (?)

Warnings: Non-Con, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Masochism, Electric shocks, Mind control, Drugging, Love potion, Vox is an asshole, Hurtful language, forced, gilded cage, soul contracts, unprotected sex (DONT), Vox owns reader, dacryphilia, let me know if I missed any!!

(not proof read)

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That day you attempted to escape from your gilded cage you wished to escape again, though vox had managed to continue his control. Even when he tugged you back by your electric leash you felt that horrid sinking feeling. This was it. For the rest of eternity as you know it Vox has you. He owns you, your soul, your body, your life; or well, lack thereof. You couldn't run from him no matter what you did, he practically controls the pride ring, keeping you tethered there like a puppy on a leash is simple to him. He has eyes everywhere. You cannot hide anywhere.

Recently Mister Vox has become a lot more... Touchy. Those fleeting touches of his fingers against your back, poking against your chin, pressing into your neck, swiping against your bottom, touching against your bosom. There is an odd burning feeling to it, you don't want to enjoy Mister Vox touching you in such ways, you don't want to enjoy it when he sucks his teeth at you or licks his tongue against his gums. But you do. You can't quench that desire. Especially when he'd moved you into his room from your apartment building. He hadn't made you share a bed with him, thank Lucifer, but he had made you sleep near enough to him that you can tell when he's.. pleasuring himself. Almost as if he wants you to hear him.

You and Mister Vox have never been better, besides from such hurdles. You stay obedient no matter how badly you wish to escape his arms. To cut all of his tight bounds on your body and run away. You'd figure out how, one day, you would.

"Good morning my dear! Did you have a gratifying sleep?" This is how most mornings go, Mister Vox will wake you with a poke if your side and a coffee in hand, already fully dressed and done up. You've always considered yourself a light sleeper, so you never know how he manages to make you a coffee every morning without so much as stirring you awake. You smile, nodding softly as you pry your eyes from his two dimensional face.

"Thank you Mister Vox, uhm.. did you have a good sleep as well?" You ask, taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee. Vox smiles, nodding as he takes a seat on the side of your bed.

"Of course, my dear. So, I know you have been working very hard recently... So I've decided to give you the day off!" Mister Vox declares, outstretching his hands as he gives you a manic smile. A day off? Why? This has to be a test. he's just going to leave you.. alone? For a whole day? This has to be fake, a joke, a flook.

"Oh my dear don't look so surprised! You've been a very good girl recently so I thought you deserved a day off," Mister Vox pauses, looking up at the roof for a second before peering back at you. "Now don't think this means we don't have rules, you are to stay in here for the day. If you want to go shopping I have to accompany you, alright? But I do have an appointment in an hour so it won't be for long,"

"Remember, I have eyes everywhere.."

You laugh awkwardly, shrinking into your own figure.

"I know Mister Vox.. I wouldn't forget," You can't stop that sorrow from entering your voice, but quickly you put on that mask of a smile once again. Mister Vox clasps his hands together, that red dripping from his maw again. "Great! Now I'll see you soon, be a good girl for me, hm?" He says, ruffling your hair atop your head with a condescending gaze.

"Yes Mister Vox," you reply simply, watching as he disappears in Into a blue line of electricity, shooting into the camera.

Fuck. Now what?

You can't remember the last time you were given this type of freedom, even if it wasn't a lot of freedom. Often you were tethered to Vox's side. Everyone in the building knows that you belong to Vox. Everyone outside of the building probably knows this, too.

There's this odd feeling in your stomach, this odd feeling as if you were floating. It happened every time you drank your morning coffee, but you'd always assumed it was just that feeling of awakening from slumber. But today, oh today it is stronger than ever before. It's as if you can feel every nerve in your body be rewired, every single hair on your body stand on end. Every sensation is doubled.

What the fuck was in this coffee? What is this euphoria? What is this yearning.. this yearning for Vox? You suddenly wish he was here, with you, holding you, calling you his good girl.. m

Shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you stand from your bed, fixing the large blue shirt you wear (that vox often asks you to wear when you sleep) as you walk to the kitchen.

The kitchen in Mister Vox's room is a large area just off to the side of his desk space, lined with many kitchen appliances and red cabinets. You are determined to figure out what he's putting in your coffee, what's making you feel so emotional. Needy. Awful. You scan the room, finding the coffee machine in the corner of the room with a couple bags next to it. Coffee, sugar, creamer... Nothing suspicious yet, it seems. Crouching down, you look open the cabinets beneath the coffee machine. Looking through the half full area.

Then you saw it, a small vial hidden behind a spare bag of creamer labeled 'Valentino and Velvette: Love potion'.

Terror shoots through you, causing you to drop the vial to the floor. It shatters everywhere, leaving the pink liquid to seep into the tiles below. He's drugging you. All this time, you feeling this want for him, burning at his touch, listening to him as he jerks himself off late at night. You wanting him to do things to you. It's all part of his plan to make you his, completely. To make you want to be his.

Burning tears fall down your cheeks, humoring you as you stand on shaky legs from the tile. What do you do? Now more than ever you want an out, a loophole, a way to take your soul back from his greedy claws. Anxiety, terror, hurt, worry, pain.

You want to prevent yourself from doing anything drastic, you really do. But all you can feel is this pain, this pain as you run on your feet to the balcony door. Trying your hardest to pry open the doors as they rattle loudly, shaking them, pulling them, pushing them. This evil man can't keep you here for any longer. You'd do anything to leave, ruin yourself for him, do something awful, make yourself less attractive to him.

Nausea. Headache. Your knees buckle as an electric blue overtakes your vision. What is this? You can't breathe, Vox. Vox. Help. Your head clouds, words fill your brain and you feel yourself being wrapped up by sharp claws. You can't scream. Help me. Please.

"You really think it's that easy?" Mister Vox.

"I can't believe I trusted you alone, even for a minute. After all I've done for you, as well. After I gave you a life some would dream for. Stupid girl." He sounds mad, horridly mad. Regretful. Throbbing takes over your body as sound waves film your ears. You can feel him lift you into his arms, placing you down onto a soft surface harshly.

"How am I supposed to make you understand this? You're mine,"

Your vision slowly comes back, until all you can see is him as he stares at you from above. His eyes are dark, domineering, needing. He's ready to take. What is he doing? All you can feel is his claw as it travels up your middle, between the valley of your breasts, stopping at the middle of your neck.

"Now, my dear? Are you going to let me teach you a lesson? For being such a brat?" You gasp, feeling his hand as it circles around your neck, effectively taking some air from your lungs. You shake your head, attempting to move your heavy legs from him with wet teary eyes.

"Nonono! Get off, please, get off!" You cry, writhing in his grasp. He sighs, rolling his eyes as he clicks his fingers. Suddenly a pulse of electricity goes through you, causing a shock to blur your eyes and pull a scream from you.

"Every time you try anything I'm shocking you, Dove. Don't try to escape from me, it's not going to work," he grins, laughing at your frightened teary eyes. "I can do whatever I want to you, my dear! I fucking own you!!" He growls, using his hand that isn't around your neck to push your thighs to your chest, revealing your bare pussy from beneath your oversized shirt.

"No please.. I'll do anything..?"

"Oh I'm sorry dear, but this is what I want more than anything right now.. maybe you should have thought of this before making such a racket and alerting everyone in the building, hm?" He says, dragging his clawed finger through your building wetness. He finally takes his hand from your neck, instead using it to keep your thighs in place as he pinches your clit between his sharp claws.

"Ah! Mister Vox.. hurts..!" You wail, wiping your tears from your eyes as he continues to abuse your sensitive bud between his fingers. He chuckles looking up at you as you gasp in pain.

"Hah! Wail all you want, dear, no one can save you." Vox guffaws, finally taking his claws from your clit. Only to plunge them into your aching hole without warning. You moan out, feeling the sharpness of them inside of you as he curls his fingers into your g-spot.

Mister Vox revels in your wails of pain and pleasure, fucking you with his clawed fingers harsh and fast. His claws are surely are scratching you from the Inside, he can tell by the way your hands tremble and clasp over your lips.

You can't help but feel good. This masochism of yours that forces it's way into you. Every scratch of his fingers inside of you just makes you want to cum. You can't give him that satisfaction, you can't let him know that you are enjoying every second of his claws thrusting inside of you. This is awful. You hate it. You hate that you love it.

"Is my little dove enjoying this? Awe.. to scared to admit you fucking love this?" Vox laughs sadistically, giving you an extremely harsh thrust of his fingers into your g-spot. You squeal, vision going white for a moment as his fingers go at this manic speed. You feel your orgasm build, wishing to break through the walls and release. But you can't let it, you won't let him have that. You'll never let him have that feeling knowing he's won.

"If you don't cum I'll fucking ruin you, dove."

You gasp and choke on saliva, clawing on the bedsheets below as he forces you to orgasm. There's no getting out. He knows that you are trying not to cum. And he won't let it happen.

"Yes.. Mister Vox.." you say softly, hole clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Vox makes sure to drag it out, giving you slow rhythmic thrusts of his fingers to watch your body contract and writhe with pleasure.

"Good dove, listening to commands for me," He says softly, stroking the side of your cheek as he kneels between your legs. You want to pull away, but once again that burning and yearning feeling fills you. That stupid potion had an effect, and you can tell. From the way you feel a dizzy want when he looks at you to the wetness that continues to build between your thighs.

"Now, I'm going to fuck you so hard.." He laughs so himself, smiling crazily as he presses his hand to his face. "I'm gonna fuck you SO FUCKING hard, you won't even remember who I am anymore! How does that sound, my little slut?" Your lower lip wobbles as more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

"Awful.." you whisper.

Another strong electric shock goes through you, causing you to scream out Mister Vox's name in pain as your body is left shaking and aching.

From the corner of your eye, you see Vox unzipping his fly.

"Wrong answer! Haha! Wrong fucking answer stupid slut," He growls, pressing the tip of his cock to your hole without a care. There something wrong with him, he's acting more crazy than ever before. He's getting off on your fear, getting off on your pain, getting off on knowing you can't do anything but be his.

With a loud slap, Vox sinks his entire length into you. You scream, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life as he looms over you. He doesn't even give you a moment to let you rest, immediately setting a ruthless pace with his hips into yours. Every thrust causes your vision to go spotty with the pure force he drives his hips with, groaning with every thrust as he stares completely into your face as it scrunches in a pleasurable pain.

"S'too much! M-Mister vox It hurts!" You cry, reaching out to press your hands against his shoulders, clawing into his coat. You don't even care anymore, you want at least a small bit of comfort from these strong unforgiving thrusts. Vox chuckles at this, leaning down closer so he can capture your lips in a (forced) yet passionate kiss.

His long electric blue tongue immediately finds its way into your gob, passionately fornicating it against your own as his thrusts send you into a sort of floaty state. Vox maps the entirety of your mouth, tasting every crevice of you from your lips to the back of your throat. He thrusts almost ravenously like a dog, tip of his cock sometimes painfully pressing against your cervix.

Pulling away, Mister Vox looks Into your eyes, revelling in the way you claw at his back. You whimper and moan loudly, eyes fluttering closed as a tear falls down your cheek. He kisses it away, looking up at your closed eyes with a grin.

"Open your eyes, dove. Look at me while I fuck you." You cry out, opening your eyes for him so you can see him look at you with pleasure.

"Y-yes Mister- Ah! Vox.."

He chuckles, thrusting into you extremely hard. You can see the bulge of his cock in your stomach, poking against your skin in such a way you almost want to touch it.

"I'd fucking breed you if I could, fill your filthy cunt with all my little babies so then you can't even dream of leaving.. but I can imagine," Vox rambles, taking your cheek into his hand so he can look at you longingly- and almost affectionately. If it weren't for the position you're in you'd almost be enjoying this moment.

"Mister Vox!" You cry, back arching as your orgasm begins to prod at your stomach.

"Hm?" He asks, grunting as he thrusts into you.

"Can I cum? Please! Please please please.." You beg, legs quivering wildly. Vox chuckles, giving you an adoring look as you bite your lower lip.

"Awe look at you! Asking Mister Vox to cum and everything.." Vox begins, biting his lip as you sputter on a moan. "Of course you can, dove. Let go so I can fuck my cum into you.."

You scream his name when you cum, digging your nails so hard into his back you're sure his coat has tears in it.

You'd given up. Well and truly. You wouldn't admit it. But you've finally accepted it. You belong to Mister Vox. Forever and always.

Forever and Always.

Vox gives you one last thrust, emptying his cum into you with a moan from his own lips. Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, Vox drags out his orgasm by serving you a few more small quick thrusts, making sure every last drop is inside of you.

But when he has, he doesn't pull out.

"Mister Vox.. pull out.." you whimper, wiggling your hips against him.

"Haha! As if. I said i'd fuck my cum into you, didn't I? I haven't done that yet.. okay?" He asks, stroking a hand through your hair.

"Yes Mister Vox."

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Hey!! For your next fic could you do Leo and Mikey angst

It came be 2012, MM or rise

~ 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ~

💙🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @tmntalways 💙🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚒, 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍!!! 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚘 ☹️💔…𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 💖💕💘💞🩷!!! 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’�� 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 😅👍🏾! 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍— 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 🫠…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟸𝟾𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍…𝚞𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍, 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 '𝚞𝚗'. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕? 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz

@savemeafruitjuice @rice-cake-teen10 @mistyandsnow

@skyloladoodles @itzsana-kiddingmenow @titters-and-tingles

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝚋𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎��𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!!

𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝙳𝙷𝙳 𝚊𝚗𝚍/𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 ☺️💞💗💓💕

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Mikey couldn’t do anything right now. Like…anything.

Well…perhaps he was being a bit too dramatic. He was breathing. And he was fidgeting with his squishy cube. So saying he wasn’t doing 'anything' wasn’t entirely true.

Right now he just…couldn’t do anything…productive. 

For example, the box turtle tried making his favorite dishes and deserts! But that endeavor just ended up being a huge mess in the kitchen…and leaving the youngest turtle with a bunch of unappetizing food. 

Which he fed all to Raph by the way. 

Some would call that choice of action cruel but Mikey would just call it 'using his resources'. 

Besides, it’s not like the eldest minded at all. He said, and I quote: 'It has a nice…crunchy feeling to it. Did you put some of Don’s inventions in this?'

Which honestly got a couple of chuckles out of the smallest turtle teen of the bunch.

Then, Mikey tried skateboarding! But for once in all his 14 years of living…it was just utterly boring. 

And after all of that nonsense, Mikey then finally tried reading a comic…but he was too unfocused to even get to the second page…

But what was really new? Mikey could never focus on jackshit even if said jackshit hit him right in the shell. 

His brothers and sister would always have to remind him to stay focused or 'not do this' or 'not do that'.

For example, a couple days ago Donnie had to kindly remind the box turtle (well…as kindly as Donnie could be anyway…) to brush his teeth.

To. Brush. His. Fucking. Teeth. 

And honestly? Having to be reminded to do that was really embarrassing. And the orange banded teen knew his brother didn’t mean to humiliate him internally…but…yeah.

And it’s not like the softshell was wrong either! The youngest turtle just couldn’t freaking accept that he himself couldn’t do such a simple task in the morning. 

But literally every task he completely fails to do is just utterly simple ones!

Like cleaning his room or not forgetting things or even keeping track of time! 

…And the sad part about all of it was Mikey just honestly could not understand how his family haven’t gotten sick of his annoying tendencies…

And let’s be for real here…that was basically all of his tendencies. 

The box turtle groaned loudly in his room, slamming his whole body on his bed as he screamed into his pillow. 

There had to be something he could do instead of just wallowing in his own self pity…

And one of those options could not consist of bothering his family with his random bad mood. They had to put up with him 24/7…the least he could do was give them some space.

The youngest then glanced at his drawing notebook hopefully…

…One little sketch of something random wouldn’t hurt, right?

The amber eyed teen reached for his notebook, grabbing a pen from his drawer as he started to sketch his desk because why the absolute fuck not? Based on the objects he’s drawn in the past…sketching a simple desk should and will be easy, right? Right. 

That was until the orange banded teen’s pencil tip broke. But it was fine! He could just re-sharpen it, right? Right.

That was until the youngest realized he had absolutely no clue where his sharpener was due to the fact his room looked like a pig stie. And there was no way he was looking for it in…that whole situation. 

…The situation he created in the first place. 

Michelangelo layed on his bed with his face staring at the ceiling in frustration, he ran his fingernails along his arms, not making really deep cuts with them but going deep enough for it to hurt a bit.

Like a reasonable turtle would, Mikey should probably get one of his stress toys…or better yet, another pencil!

But let’s be for real here…he’d most likely find a way to fuck that up too.

Suddenly, there was a small, quiet knock on Mikey’s door but…in all honesty? He just wanted to crawl into his shell and sob for the next hour and a half. Letting out a niiiiice and quick 'come in' would take way too much energy. 

The box turtle let out a soft grunt, letting whoever was on the other side know it was a-okay to come in.

Abruptly, Leo peeked in the room, a wide smile plastered on his face as he closed the door, “Damn, Mikester…it looks like every single natural disaster went through your room…”

“I’m cleaning it.” The youngest grumbled to his brother.

“Really? You sure about that, little bro? Because if my memory serves me correct (which it in-fact does), you said that last week. And the week before that…and the week before—“

“I SAID I’M FUCKING CLEANING IT!!!” The orange banded turtle snapped, sitting up on the bed to glare at his immediate older brother before slowly realizing what he just did. 

The youngest’s heart dropped as he looked away from his brother. The orange banded mutant’s eyed widened as silent and small tears ran down his face. He covered his mouth as his other hand turned to a fist, his nails unforgivingly digging into his palm.

“I-I’m sorry…I’m s-sorry…I-I’m so s-sorry…!” He started, rocking himself back and forth before stopping as he was met with a warm embrace. Leonardo hugged him gently but firmly, rubbing the other’s shell in a comforting hold. “Woah woah…! Bud, you have nothing to apologize for…” The slightly older teen said as he rested his chin on the top of his baby brother’s head.

“L-Like h-hell I don’t. I-I just screamed a-at y-you for no reason…” Michelangelo wobbly said. “You were just trying to lighten the mood but I just had to make everything harder like I-I always do…!” 

“Mikey—”

“I-I always do this. I-I’m so f-fucking s-sorry Leo…”

“Mikester…I-I appreciate the apology but it seriously isn’t necessary—”

“You’re probably so sick of me and so angry at me. I-I’m sorry I just—”

“Mikey!” Leo gently yelled to get the other’s attention, squeezing the smaller turtle’s hands as he stared straight at him with pleading eyes. “Do I look mad?”

“…N-No.”

“Do I sound mad?”

“…No.” 

The second youngest sadly smiled, “So what are you apologizing for, hm?”

“…I-I…dunno…I-I just…I just felt I needed to apologize…” The box turtle mumbled as he looked at his hands. The blue banded turtle sighed, slowly getting out of the hug so him and his little brother faced each other. The slider rubbed the other turtle’s palm with his thumb comfortingly, “…Do you wanna talk about it, baby bro?”

The leader in blue was just met with silence…which he could honestly work with.

“Angelo…you know you can tell me…anything, right? Like…anything. Although, it doesn’t have to be me you talk to about it. It could be Raph or Don or April or even Dad or Draxum! I just…don’t want you sitting here and bottling up the way you feel…” 

Silence. Leo continued.

“You’re always there when we need you, Angel. Whether it’s to vent or to just ramble about shit, you’re just…always there. We don’t tell you this enough but we appreciate you always being someone we can lean on…”

Silence. Leo continued.

“But…you do know you can lean on us too, right? Comfort goes both ways and I can see you’re hurting, buddy. So please…if you need to talk to me…I’m right here.”

Mikey sniffled, squeezing Leo’s hand, “I-I d-dunno. Today is just…weird. This whole week has just been…weird.” Leo nodded, giving his brother his full undivided attention, “How so?”

“I just…haven’t been able to do anything…” The smaller teen admitted.

“What do you mean?” The taller teen inquired. 

“I haven’t been able to do…anything. Like, I can’t draw, cook or even skateboard! Me!!! Not being able to skateboard— isn’t that crazy?!” The amber eyed turtle laughed bitterly.

“And it’s not like I can’t do it. I’m perfectly freaking capable of doing it in the right amount of time I want but my brain just. won’t. let. me!” 

“I keep procrastinating and not doing the stuff I want to do and I have no idea why! I’m tired of just putting things off and being this way! I want to do things without having to ask you guys for help or to remind me or to relate it with a hyperfixation that I have!” Mikey hiccuped, a new wave of tears rolling down his face as his hands shook. 

The amber eyed teen sniffled, refusing to look at his immediate older brother at all right now because…holy shit he just overshared a whole lot…

Like…a whoooooooooole freaking lot.

“…That sounds like you.” Leonardo shrugged. 

In a state of just shock and confusion, the box turtle pulled his hands away from his brother, looking up at him as lime green eyes met amber ones. “I…what…?” Michelangelo murmured.

“I said that sounds like you.” Leo said again casually as Mikey glared at him, “Yeah. I heard what you said but that isn’t helpful.”

“I’m just being honest with you, Mikester.” Leo said, “Just…let me explain, okay?”

“…You have five minutes before I kick you out of my room.” 

“Deal.” The lime green eyed mutant commented, “You can’t draw, cook or skateboard right now. You’re procrastinating and not doing the stuff you want to do in the time you planned…is that correct?” 

Michelangelo sent deathly daggers to his brother— which the other wasn’t phased by at all. This time was probably the best time to crawl in his own shell and just sob his eyes out because what kind of dumbass question was his dumbass brother asking him?!

“…Yes.” The orange banded teen mumbled. 

“And…why are those bad things?” 

“WHY?!” The box turtle huffed out a laugh of annoyance, “Pfft— you’re asking me why. Maybe it’s because it’s annoying?! Maybe because it’s frustrating to deal with and I don’t want to burden you guys with my problems?! Maybe because I don’t want to fucking feel or be this way?!” The youngest shouted, breathing heavily as he finished his rant. 

The box turtle looked away again, silently cursing at himself for getting annoyed so easily. “Mikey.” Leo started again, “Your being too hard on yourself, okay? No one is expecting you to be at your 100% all the time.” 

“What you just described to me; you being able to not focus or you getting bored easily or procrastinating with stuff is…literally you. You’re just being you.” The slider explained as he held his baby brother’s hand in his. “And I get it. It’s hard to deal with it sometimes and it’s going to be hella frustrating. Like…super borderline frustrating. But you can’t shun them away and just…try to ignore them, bubs…”

“Let’s take moi for example. I’m impulsive, I talk loud and lose things daily. Those three things don’t make up my whole personality but it would be super weird and off-putting if I just…didn’t do or have those three things, right?” 

The youngest giggled wetly, “Yeah…it would. A-And by the way, I’m still waiting for you to find that glittery pen kit I gave you…”

Leonardo groaned loudly and dramatically, causing the other teen to giggle louder, “I’m looking for it, okay?! It’s in my room…somewhere.” The taller mutant mused, “But anyways…back to you. You procrastinate, you relate things to your hyperfixations and you can’t do some of your favorite tasks from time to time…those are some traits that make up you, is it not?” 

Mikey sniffled, rolling his eyes playfully due to the fact he knew damn well where this was going, “Yeah…” 

Leo smiled softly, seeing his younger brother was starting to get his point, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I know sometimes it’s hard to deal with the things you described but you have us for that.” He said as his smile turned to a grin. 

“You can come to me— to us— anytime. We love you for who you are…your flaws and all and we just…I-I need you to know that we love you so so much—!” The slider was cut off by a sudden abrupt embrace from the box turtle. The orange banded teen sobbed into the other’s shoulder, clutching the taller turtle like a lifeline. 

“T-Thank you…” The box turtle wobbly said through tears.  

“Of course, Angel.” Leo said as he hugged his baby brother back, “I love you.” He said as he kissed the other teen on the head.

“I-I l-love you too…”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Tell your thoughts to shut up.” Leo said as he lightly poked Mikey in the forehead numerous times. The two were sitting on the box turtle’s bed just simply…relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Michelangelo was sitting in between his older brother’s legs as he had his shell to his brother’s plastron.

Leonardo hugged his brother protectively, resting his chin on the top of the box turtle’s head. “What do you mean?” The youngest giggled out. “I can hear your thoughts, man. You’re not bothering me or disturbing me in any way, shape or form, alright…?” 

The amber eyed turtle nodded, squeezing Leo’s hand, “Y-Yeah…I know...” 

“I’m choosing to be here because I love you. I don’t feel obligated to be here, okay? You’re not annoying and you, neither your problems are a burden…okay?” The slider said reassuringly, “It’s okay to ask us for help…and we don’t mind reminding you to do things…okay?” 

“You’ve said ‘okay’ like, fifty times…”

“Mikey.” 

“Mhm…yeah yeah…I gotcha…”

The elder looked at his brother skeptically, resting his chin on his little brother’s shoulder so they made solid eye contact, “I want you to say it.” 

“…Say what exactly?”

“I want you to say that you are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” 

“You are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” Michelangelo grinned smugly. Leonardo glared at the youngest’s interpretation to his statement, “Mikey, you know exactly what I meant.” 

“I said what you wanted me to say…so…” The amber eyed teen trailed off.

“Michelangelo.” The slider said in a warning tone as he poked the other’s side. The box turtle squeaked at the unexpected touch, trying to stop his immediate older brother from doing it again but his brother had a strong but gentle grip on him…

Then the smallest turtle came to recognition that he was stuck in a potential tickle hug with no way out…

…How wonderful. 

“L-Leeheeo…doohoo nahat.” The orange banded mutant warned through his giggles, said warning not seeming too threatening due to the fact he was already laughing up a storm. The leader in blue raised a brow, poking the other’s side repeatedly, “I just want you to repeat what I said…in the first person.” The taller teen specified.

The smaller turtle squirmed in the hug, small frantic giggles pouring out of his mouth. This…really wasn’t how he was expecting his day to go. Just about an hour ago, he was wallowing in sadness about the stuff he hated about himself, to talking about it with his brother, to now getting tickled by his brother.

…So could he really complain about how things turned out?

…Yes. Yes, he absolutely could.  

“Leeheeon! Plehease dohon’t!” The youngest squealed as one of his brother’s hands hovered over his stomach. Mikey held onto the other’s wrists, trying to stop his elder brother from tickling him but his small attempts ending up to be all for nothing as Leo effortlessly tickled his stomach with one hand.

“LEEHEEHAHAHA!!” Michelangelo laughed wholeheartedly, swatting at his brother’s arms. The lime green eyed turtle cooed at the gesture, now using both of his hands to attack the youngest’s plastron, “D'aww…look at you giggling your head off~! You’re my adorable little bundle of amazingness, aren’t you~?”

The smaller teen shook his head, a faint blush appearing on his face, “STAHA— squeal N-NAHAHA!”

“What~? What was that?” The blue banded mutant asked as he kneaded the box turtle’s hips. “GYAHAH— squeal SHIHIHIT! COHOME OHAHAN!!!” The amber eyed turtle cried frantically as he kicked his legs on the mattress slightly. 

The youngest squealed with laughter, curling in on himself as he slumped in his big brother’s hold. Leonardo just sighed fondly at the action, wrapping the other in another hug as he raspberried his neck. “LEEHEEHEE!! PLAHAH— squeak NAHAHAT THEHERE squeak PLEHEASE PLEHEASE— squeak!!!”

“Not there~?” The elder lightly mocked, “What about…here~?” He mused as he used his hands to scribble all over the younger turtle’s ribs. Mikey cackled, shaking his head to try and at least subside the tickly feelings.

“NAHAHA— squeal AHAHAHA!! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE EHE— squeal EHEHEITHER!!! LEEHEEO!!” The orange banded turtle squeaked as Leo stopped for a second, “I’ve tried sooooo many spots, buddy! How many times are you gonna say not there, hm?”

Mikey genuinely squawked louder than a firefighter siren, squirming so much it looked like he was actually being electrocuted. “PLEHEHAHA LEEHEEO NAHAHAT THEHEHE RIHIHIBS!!!” He cackled. 

“Not the riiiibs~? Why~? Is it because it’s your tickle spot~? Your tickletickletickle spot~? Because you’re ticklish~?” Leonardo asked as he lightly nibbled the crook of Mikey’s neck. 

Michelangelo screamed in laughter, scrunching up his shoulders as he dug his heels on the bed, a couple of his plushies sadly falling on the floor (R.I.P. man…) “EEEHEEHEEP!!! S-STAHAP BEEHEEING MEEHEAN!” Mikey said as he thrashed on the bed. 

The slider said nothing, his hands sneaking up to the box turtle’s underarms. “AAAAHAHAHA! OHO NOHOHO— squeak SHIT! SHIHIHAHAT!”

Happy tears slowly begin to appear in the smallest teen’s eyes, he weakly hit Leo’s arms as a last attempt to be set free, “LEHEHEMME squeal GOHOHOHO!” 

“Ohonly if you sahay it, bubs.” 

“IHIHI— SQUEAK!! LEEHEEHEEON!!!” 

“Yeeeees, baby brother~?” The elder dragged out as he kneaded the other’s hips.

“IHI’LL SAHAY IHIHAT I-IHIHI’LL SAHAHAY IHIT!!” The amber eyed teen squealed. 

“And you promise not to be a sassy little shit about it~?” The older teen asked.

“SQUEAK YEHAHAHA— SQUEAK YEHES YEHES I-I PROHOHOMISE!” 

Leo stopped tickling his little brother, hugging him protectively as the youngest caught his breath slowly but surely. “W-Wahait…whahat squeak wahas ihihat yohou eeheeven wahanted me squeak to sahay again?” 

The taller turtle pondered for a bit, thinking to himself before loudly groaning, “That’s…a good damn question. I don’t really remember exactly what I wanted you to say in the first place…” The lime green eyed turtle sighed, “Forgetfulness at its finest...” 

The red eared slider adjusted himself, making sure the other was comfortable before starting to speak again, “Well…based on what we talked about…could you maybe just…y'know…” Leo gestured with his hands before groaning, “Do you get what I’m trying to say, man?” 

“…I thihink I have ahan idea…” Mikey giggled as he fiddled with his hands, “I shouldn’t beat myself up so much because of some of my traits or quirks. And I’m allowed to feel frustrated and/or upset because things don’t go my way because of them. But…I shouldn’t allow those things to put me down...”

Michelangelo smiled softly, rubbing his palm with his thumb, “They don’t define me as a person but they make me a person. I don’t need to be at my best 100% and I’m allowed to have bad days. And if things get too overwhelming or difficult I can just go to you guys.” 

Mikey hugged himself, letting out a small laugh as his happy tears welled up in his eyes, “I’m just…being me. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Leonardo teared up at his brother’s words, hugging him tighter than he ever had before and burying his face at the back of the youngest’s head.

“Never forget that, Miguelito…never forget that.” 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[peachsayshi]

there are two sides of nanami if he did survive shibuya -

he wouldn’t be the same.

on one side it would have hardened the softest parts left; where it would fuel an anger inside him that is rarely ever seen. he’s not cruel, but he’s violent. almost unrecognizable, incredibly morally grey. it doesn’t take away his golden light, it only exacerbates the flame.

on the second side is when he is drowning in an ocean of darkness; where he can’t escape the shadow or fear. he’s not weak, but he’s frightened. how much more of this pain does he have to carry? why does he feed his happiness away to the heaviness around him? his radiance is dwindling but he hides it behind a courageous smile.

regardless, I think the one thing for certain is that he wouldn’t stop being a sorcerer. he would keep going. despite the trauma. despite the pain. always playing the part as the martyr to protect everyone else.

I’ll carry this burden, he thinks, so no one else has to.

*sobs*

[chrisevansonly]

Block Out the Noise

pairing: harry styles x female reader

summary: sometimes you just need to listen to your song and love on your boyfriend to make the negative thoughts go away

warnings: mention of past abuse, talks of depression and suicidal thoughts, potentially triggering(?!) very soft and caring harry&lt;3

a/n: i wanted to write something about matilda because it’s a song that I hold so close to my heart. from growing up in an abusive home and needing to take care of my brother from age 6 and up, when i heard matilda i knew it would be a song i’d cherish forever. this is a fic i hold close to my heart because i was that scared and small little girl who didn’t understand why i got anger taken out on me and why i had bruises when other kids didn’t. you’re not alone, you’ve got me in your corner and your stronger than you know, i hope my inner child knows that too<3

No one asks to be born into a world of chaos and fear, especially not when you’re a child. Wondering why your parents fought, the screaming matches, the subtle bruises you somehow ended up with because you ‘stood in the way.’ As a child you never knew what went wrong or what you did to be treated this way but you still tried your hardest regardless of the war zone you once called home.

you were riding your bike to the sound of its no big deal, and you’re trying to lift off the ground on those old two wheels..

You taught yourself to read, to cook, to take care of yourself and your siblings. Going as far as to teach yourself to ride a bike and even drive, you raised yourself in a world where you wished you hadn’t needed to do that. When you got to high school the insults from your father got worse, the insecurity creeped in and you struggled with self worth and self harm.

nothing about the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming til now..

Then came college where you worked three jobs to pay your tuition and fought tooth and nail to get the best grades and work your absolute hardest to get your degree which you did all on your own. Mental illness and recovery was never linear and you battled some of your darkest days throughout college and even towards graduation when you met Harry.

so you tie up your hair and you smile like it’s no big deal

Harry was your world, he was the calm through the storm, the light that helped guide you through the tough times, he truly was your best friend. You’d been together now going on 5 years with no plans of ever separating from one another. He always told you that you provided just as much safety and comfort to him as he could to you.

you can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know and not invite your family, cause they never showed you love, you don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up

-

Now you were 26 and worked at your dream job, your life was filled with so much love and so much joy sometimes you found yourself needing to take a step back and just breathe, reminding yourself your life was real. Of course you had your rough days, and after the meeting and scolding you’d gotten today, all you wanted was to get home and see Harry.

matilda, you talk of the pain like it's all alright, but I know that you feel like a piece of you's dead inside

When Harry had started working on the album, he’d told you he was writing one very special song he couldn’t wait to share with you. So on the day that he sat you down and let you listen to Matilda, by the second line you were looking over at him with tears in your eyes, bottom lip wobbling ever so slightly and he was quick to pull you into his chest.

You showed me a power that is strong enough to bring sun to the darkest days

When you arrived home you dropped your work things by the front closet, kicking your heels off and dropping your shoulders in exhaustion. Harry wasn’t home yet so you allowed yourself a few minutes to get some water, your headphones and settle on the couch with a fluffy blanket.

it’s none of my business but it’s just been on my mind

On natural instinct almost, you allowed the soft melody of matilda to play through your headphones, eyes closing as you sunk into the cushions. It wasn’t as if you were trying to cower from the overwhelming feelings you had in this moment, but more or less trying to let them flow and escape from your mind

you can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know and not invite your family, cause they never showed you love, you don't have to be sorry for leaving and growing up

You hadn’t even noticed the tears steadily falling down your cheeks, your breathing picking up slightly as you pulled the blanket up further, attempting to wrap yourself in more warmth. It wasn’t until you felt gentle fingertips dancing across your face that you opened your eyes, Harry looking at you in concern. Pausing the song you pulled your headphones off and sent him a soft smile

“Hey m’love…”

“Hi”

Lifting the blanket up you let him cuddle in next to you, the instant comfort you felt just from being wrapped up in his arms was enough to blow the stress and pain from the day away

“You okay y/n?”

Nodding you leaned further into him

“Just had a really bad day…got yelled at and it just made me think of old stuff and I don’t know…f-felt a bit sad”

Harry placed a soft kiss against your temple

“I’m sorry today was so tough, I know it was probably hard to remember what it was like growing up too..can’t blame you for feeling upset”

His hands ran up and down your arm softly, the constant touch helping to keep you grounded and in the present moment.

“You know what I think?”

Looking up at him you furrowed your brows

“What?”

Placing a kiss on your lips he smiled

“I think you are the most beautiful soul, inside and out. Despite everything you’re still here, fighting and working hard day in and day out. You don’t ever have to feel sorry or feel bad about doing everything you’ve done on your own, and allowing yourself to love and experience love despite it all”

“H…”

He was quick to swipe a tear from your cheek before continuing

“I love you so much, you’re my now and my future. Seeing you grow and flourish into the woman you are today has been a privilege to witness and support you through. I admire you so much m’baby, you’ve never let anyone dim your light and m’so lucky to get to love you”

Anything you would have said to him in this moment was caught in your throat, so wrapping your arms around him and holding him tight was enough for him in the moment. Harry was the moon and the stars to you, he was your whole universe and he’d been helping you heal since you’d been together. You’d done the hardest work on this journey, he had just been there to support and love you through it so he says.

“I love you so much H, thank you for letting me start a new family”

“I’ll always be your family, you’re safe with me my darling, always”

Matilda was a song that would forever have its hold on you, and it was even more special knowing Harry had wrote it thinking of you, including you in his album and one of his projects he really loved. The love he’d shown you and continues to show you had only helped you come out of your shell and finally feel as if you’d found your place and purpose in this world.

Harry was your home, just as you were his.

a/n if you or someone you know is struggling with abuse please reach out to someone you know, whether it be a friend, family member or adult you trust. I’d only wished i’d done so earlier, i’m here to help and support you guys in anyway I can. You are loved, you are cherished and you are worth it.

[writerblue275]

hi i love ur work so much and ive been racking up the courage to try and make a request so here we go. uhm. can you do maybe an irritated/upset!reader and how the heartsteel boys would comfort them? or vice versa with them being upset and the best way to comfort them/reader trying to comfort them.. idk loll. (ily again btw ur works giv me life)

Hello sweet Anon!! I’m so happy you enjoy my work! Thank you for the lovely words, they mean a lot to me. And thank you for requesting!! I totally get it. I’m a very anxious person so I definitely have to work up the courage to request or comment on stuff. But I promise I don’t bite (like 99.999999% of the time)!💙

How Heartsteel would comfort an upset/frustrated reader

Inspiration: So I know I said I’d work on requests generally in the order they’re sent, but I was literally in the process of doing basically this as a non-requested WiP. Because lately life has been TRYING. ME. 🙃 (I will neither confirm nor deny having multiple stress cries in my car the past week.) So even though this is my newest request, since I was already working on something like this, I might as well combine the two. I think I’ll just keep this to them comforting the reader, but I like the idea of doing a separate one where reader comforts the Heartsteel members. Also listen, I absolutely love me a good comfort moment. I melt.

Genre: Headcanon (with some fake texts??? Trying something a little new here.)

Type: A bit angsty just because you’re upset, but fluff because comfort.

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader!

TW: General hurt/comfort. Mentions of a no good very bad day/week for reader. Swearing.

Aphelios

I think Aphelios would actually do comfort pretty damn well. He’s also used to being stressed and tired and upset about things (because let’s be real he works so hard. Too hard sometimes) so he’d be great to turn to.

One thing I think Phel would do, if you do visit him in his studio, is play music to distract your mind a bit from whatever has you so upset. Now this might be through a file he’s already recorded on his computer and sent to Yone to be mixed. However, he also just has a shit ton of different instruments in his work space.

So pick one for him to play and he’s happy to do so. You get like a mini concert from an instrumental prodigy! Or even better, pick one that you want to try! He’s happy to teach you some basics on how to play it.

And it doesn’t matter how badly you might sound as you attempt to play an instrument for the first time, Phel’s nodding and clapping as if you just finished giving an incredible performance. Every time. Because he supports you. (Though he will use some very very light teasing occasionally, but he’s joking.)

And he’d definitely order some food in and cuddle or nap with you on his studio couch (which is so mind-blowingly comfortable for some reason). And once you are eating and settled together and in a better mood, then he’d ask if you want to talk about things.

And you don’t have to. He’s happy to continue to keep your mind on happier things. Phel also has a couple gaming consoles hooked up to a tv that you can play with him/watch him play. But he’s also happy to just let you talk and get everything off your chest. (He’s just so supportive oh my god.)

Ezreal

(I enjoyed getting to break out a little millennial/Gen-Z slang here lmao.)

If Ezreal has one goal in your relationship, it’s to try and make you smile as much as possible. He hates seeing you upset or frustrated about something. And he will do anything to help get the smile he adores back on your face.

So when you do come to him upset about something, his internal alarm is just going bonkers. DEFCON 1 level shit. 🚨🚨🚨

If you want comfort? Ezreal’s going to give it to you. He already loves cuddling you so you can have all the therapeutic cuddles your heart desires with him (god bless his love language of physical touch). And he’s more than happy to play with your hair or do whatever actions help you relax the most.

You wouldn’t even have to ask him, he’d already have your favorite comfort food ordered and he’d go pick it up (or have it delivered). He fully know your order by heart.

Builds the BEST pillow forts to unwind in. Truly an expert. Ezreal even decorates it a little bit with some of your favorite comfort things. And as his texts said, pick anything you want to watch. Whether that is a movie, show, gaming streamer, him gaming, it DOES. NOT. MATTER. It’s all up to you. Also if you want him to sing to you he absolutely will, no question. (Can you imagine? HEAVEN!)

He’d let you take the lead on whether or not you want to tell him what has you so upset. He knows stewing in your emotions isn’t always productive, but sometimes talking about things when they’re so fresh in your mind can make the feelings more intense. And while he’s not the go-to guy for advice, he’s an excellent listener. As long as he can play with your hands or hair or something, he’s fully tuned in, letting you get everything off your chest.

He’s such a great example of golden retriever boyfriend, and if golden retrievers are good at anything, it’s comfort and making people happy. So don’t you worry, Ez will have you smiling again in no time.

Kayn

So when it comes to Kayn, comfort is very interesting to think about. Definitely feel like he approaches comfort differently from, say, Ezreal, but he has his own special ways of supporting you and helping you reach a better mindset.

If he can tell you’re frustrated or angry or the type of upset that requires a little bit of rage release, he’s fully on board to go to a rage room with you so you can get out everything you’re feeling in a controlled and safe environment.

And you absolutely know Kayn’s cheering you on the entire time. “FUCK yeah baby! Show that wine bottle who’s boss!” Or “That’s it, Sexy. Work has been driving you nuts right? Take it out on this shitty copier. Fuck it up!” Or *softball pitches a vase to you while you’re standing at-bat*

He’s fully supportive. And if expressing your feelings requires more of an artistic approach, that works for him too. He has a small room that has been turned into an art studio where he goes to practice his graffiti (in a way that’s legal) and he would gladly let you use it. Or he’ll let you play with his guitars if you want. (You’re one of the VERY FEW who can. You, Phel, and Yone.)

And if you just need to talk out your feelings, Kayn’s going to be there to listen, only interjecting if he has questions or if he’s commenting something supportive. “Of course you’re upset, baby. That’s bullshit and would piss me off too!”

And his love language (giving) is physical touch. So if you just want him to hold you while you cry, he can do that. And physical touch doesn’t just mean holding you. Like his hands would just be gently wandering. Nothing suggestive necessarily, but just reassuring. Like rubbing your back or your arms. Playing with your hair. Stuff like that.

It absolutely breaks Kayn’s heart to see you cry. He will do anything to keep you from crying/make you feel better when you are upset. (Again 🤫🤫🤫🤫 don’t tell anyone but he’s a huge softie for you!)

K’Sante

As mentioned in previous headcanons K’Sante gives off the vibes of someone who is just amazing to talk to. And that absolutely applies when it comes to helping you feel better when you’re upset.

Just an absolutely incredible listener. Vent as much as you want to him. He’ll listen to every single word you say. And when I say listen, I mean fully tuned in. You have his undivided attention. (How could he give his partner any less??? He couldn’t, is the answer.)

And if you ask K’Sante for advice? He’s offering you sincere and thought out advice. He truly wants to help you, always.

Now beyond talking, he can also make a mean meal in the kitchen (even if Sett is the official best cook). So you’re going to enjoy some really excellent food. Either your favorite or one of his favorite comfort foods. And that’s never a bad thing.

You’re also receiving some prime cuddles. Have you seen K’Sante??? He loves holding you. And leaning against that broad chest while his arms wrap around you seems like a great way to feel better.

Oh and even better? He will absolutely sing for you if you ask. (Which bestie…how could you not??) His voice is so lovely too. And he will sing any song you want him to. (Though he definitely already knows your favorites that he can pull out if you don’t feel like picking anything/making decisions.)

K’Sante is just someone who would be amazing at comforting you. He’ll go the extra mile in helping you feel better and making sure you know he’s always got your back.

Sett

Sett would be phenomenal at comforting you when you’re upset. He loves to see you smile and will do anything to help bring a smile back to your beautiful face. (Remember his love language is acts of service).

He’d make your favorite comfort food. And hell even that would go a long way in helping you. He cooks with so much love.

And the CUDDLES. Oh my god cuddles with Sett would be 😩👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻. He’s so soft with the people he loves. And he loves YOU.

He’d pull you into his lap, wrap those lovely arms around you, and let you get comfy. And only when he can hear your breathing level out and feel you relax in his arms would he ask about what has you so upset.

And as you’re talking Sett would give you the gentlest little forehead/to-of-the-head kisses and rub your back and stuff. And he’d be such an excellent listener. He’d let you unburden yourself first before talking. He’d also ask if you just want comfort or if you want his advice. He realizes sometimes we all just need someone to listen while we vent and we don’t necessarily need people to give advice. And he respects what you want.

And if you’re ever angry/frustrated-upset, he’d offer to grab his boxing training pads and let you safely hit out your anger. He knows how cathartic that can be. And if you take him up on that, he’s cheering you on the whole way. (Such a hype man.)

And after dinner, he’d give you a couple options. Bath? Massage? More cuddles? Whatever you want, you get. Sett will take care of everything.

Yone

(A/N: The amount of time I spent trying to come up with a better contact name for him…but he’s just so 🥰.)

Yone would be EXCELLENT to turn to when you’re upset. There’s no one who understands work stress more than him (if that’s the problem), and he has all the tools to help you feel better, whatever the issue is.

One of the things Yone is best at is calming you down. Something about his vibe is just very grounding, which is super important when your emotions are running high.

He is absolutely someone who meditates regularly/uses incense and such. (He would have killed his band members by now if he didn’t.) So when you either come to him or call him and he can tell you’re upset/frustrated, I think he’d first do some breathing exercises with you to help settle you down and help you get your emotions back to a more manageable place.

If you’re with him in person, he’d light some of your favorite incense that he always has stocked for you and pull you down to sit in his lap so he can hold you. Because he knows you feel better when he does.

Once Yone can tell you’re in a much calmer state of mind, only then would he ask if you want to talk about things. And he’s truly leaving that up to you.

And once you’ve cuddled for a little bit, and finished talking if you do end up telling him, then he’ll definitely just keep you on his lap and work with you there. He knows you love watching him work on music. He’ll pass you your own set of headphones that he has plugged into a splitter, so you can hear what he’s doing. He’ll even ask for your input. (Nothing too technical unless you have a musical background, but more so “Which of these sounds better, my love?” Or “What do you think, baby? Instrumentals too busy?”) He also gives you the occasional forehead kiss while he works, and those are the BEST.

Yone just gives off such a peaceful vibe (when he’s not stressed by his band members), and that sort of energy is perfect to be around when you’re upset and you need comfort.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. This really helped me feel better I must say. Thank you Anon for requesting this too, and I hope I did your request justice! 💙

[cryptidpandas]

Wrapping his arms around the other, Splinter pulled him further into the hug. “I love you so much, my Baby Blue,” was all he could manage to say, holding onto the other tightly. They held each other in the hug, Leo’s body shaking with his quiet sobs, while Splinter gripped him securely. Leo couldn’t tell how long they were like that, sitting on the floor of the crumbling hotel lobby, and holding onto each other the way only a father and son could. It could have been a few seconds, or several hours, but it still didn’t feel like enough time.

“I’m sorry…we are running out of time, Leonardo.”

A scene from chapter 10 of my Last Of Us AU Our Future Days on Ao3

thank u to @less-depresso-more-espresso for doing this commission!💙

[junkissed]

leaning on the everlasting arms

member — childhood best friend! pastor's son!joshua x f reader genre — angst, smut, some fluff, bible college au word count — 10.3k (my first fic over 10k wowie!!) synopsis — as kids growing up in the same church, you and joshua were inseperable, until you got to an age where it was considered immoral for girls and boys to be friends. when you find him again just before graduation, he's different than you remember; but so are you. content warnings — female reader, she/her, reader is implied to be smaller (i'm sorry), discussion of gender roles & religion, no religion is mentioned by name but it's heavily implied to be a form of christianity, reader & shua are both seniors in college, reader wears skirts/dresses but not really by choice, this whole thing is pretty blasphemous oops smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, virgin!joshua x virgin!reader, mutual masturbation, phone sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (reader receiving), hints of a voice kink, size kink, praise, begging, really vanilla missionary but it's hot, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, angel) notes — although i am no longer religious, this is partially based off of my own experiences with the extremely traditional christian church i was raised in. however, please keep in mind that this is fiction and does not reflect my beliefs nor joshua's beliefs so don't take the plot too seriously. this piece is not meant to discuss whether certain religions are "right" or "wrong" so please do not comment/send me asks trying to start a debate! we're all just here for a little sexy time with shua it's not that deep note #2 — for those who aren't familiar, the title is the name of a hymn and i thought it was funny bc joshua big sexy arms hehehe

as far back as you could remember, joshua was your closest friend.

his father was the pastor of the church your family went to, and as luck would have it you were both in the same grade, so it wasn’t long before you became inseparable. you saw him at minimum three times a week: sunday morning, sunday evening, wednesday evening.

you spent most of your childhood together. sitting next to each other at every service, sharing your bibles with each other whenever one of you left them at home, sneaking donuts away from the box at the table outside the sermon hall that was supposed to only be for the adults.

you did everything together, and told each other everything. that is, until you reached middle school. boys and girls weren’t allowed to sit in the same services anymore, and you had to stay in separate buildings for every church camp and conference. 

the worst part was you didn’t even understand why. what did they think you were gonna do with him? kiss him? no amount of money in the world could get you to do that! joshua was your best friend. who else were you supposed to climb trees and build forts and sneak donuts with? kissing was stupid.

when you asked your mom about it, she told you the same thing everyone else did: about how men of god had a different path and needed to hear different messages in order to grow up to lead their own churches one day. you thought it was stupid. what if a woman wanted to lead a church, why are men the ones that have to do it? but she would just shake her head and tell you it's just the way things work in the church, you'll understand when you're older.

you were allowed near him less and less until the only time you were able to see him was at the after-service brunch with his family, and even then that began to happen less and less as the years went on.

and of course it was church rules, so there was no arguing with them because that would mean arguing with god, and who were you to question his authority? there would be no special exception for you, no matter how much you protested to your mom that you would never, ever think about joshua like that. in a fit of anger one day you blew up at her, shouting that she had had friends of the opposite gender when she was in high school, so why couldn’t you? it wasn’t fair. but she had just sighed and stared out the window, clearly ending the conversation. many years passed before she finally told you about her life before she came to church, recalling all the times she had been hurt by men she had loved and trusted. you understood then why she had wanted to keep you sheltered and safe, but you still didn’t agree. but then again, if you had been allowed to do what you wanted then maybe things would never have ended up the way they did. perhaps you have her to thank.

back then, all you could do was hold on to the little time you had with him until eventually you stopped seeing him altogether. 

more summers passed and you started spending all of your time memorizing bible verses with your fellow “women of christ”, missing the way you used to spend your time with your best friend.

but then you went off to bible college like had always been planned for you, and everything changed. instead of continuing to follow the strict schedule that was laid out for you, you finally got a little taste of freedom, and you realized what you’d been missing all this time. everything that you’d been taught was sinful, evil, wicked, was what brought you more pleasure than you’d ever known was possible.

you still had to pretend to be a good girl for the people around you, who, for reasons you couldn’t comprehend, were still dedicated to their life of purity. or at least they acted like it. maybe everyone was secretly just like you, hiding their sins behind a friendly smile and a firm handshake every sunday morning.

you weren’t hurting anyone with the things you did in private, and the feeling of rebellion was a kind of satisfaction you didn’t know you were allowed to feel. you were an adult, making your own choices now and facing whatever consequences that came with them.

there was only one consequence. for some reason, all the impure thoughts you had always centered around joshua. no matter what dirty books you read or videos you watched, the man you always pictured giving it to you was joshua.

you hated that after all these years, everything still came back to him. you fought it, tried imagining actors or celebrities in his place instead; characters from your books and movies and shows, anyone but him. you wanted to save whatever memories you had left of him, think of him in a good light like you used to when you were younger, but the way he plagued your mind was worse than the ones in the book of exodus.

but now, in your final year of college, you thought you had finally gotten yourself under control.

that is, until you were leaving one of your bible lectures and all the control you’d convinced yourself that you had crumbled away in mere seconds when you saw a startlingly familiar face standing by the door. a face you hadn’t seen in far too long. 

“joshua?”

“hey,” he says with a smile, like no time has passed at all. like it’s been hours since you’ve seen each other, not years. 

there are so many things you want to say, so many things you want to ask him, but you’re frozen in place. why is he here? where has he been? how did he find you again?

“it’s been a while,” he says with an awkward laugh when you don’t say anything.

you nod, still in a daze. “yeah. quite a while.”

he smiles. “well, anyway, i’ve got a meeting to go to in a bit, but… i just wanted to see you.”

“oh,” you say. what else is there to say? what can you say to make up for the years lost that you’ll never get back?

he looks at his watch, the conversation clearly coming to an end.

“can i give you my phone number?” he says. a deep shade of pink creeps into his cheeks but he either doesn’t notice or purposely doesn’t acknowledge it. “maybe we can talk sometime, catch up.”

“i– yeah,” you manage. god, it’s so good seeing him again. “yeah, that would be really nice.”

you’ve given up on homework for the night, spending your entire afternoon in a daze since you ran into joshua.

so many years, yet you still can’t get his smile out of your head.

you close your eyes, hand dipping below the waistband of your pajama pants automatically. it’s frightening how easily you’re able to bring up a picture of him in your mind, so much clearer than before now that you’ve seen what he looks like all grown up.

and grown up, he has. you had been too stunned to get a good look at him while he was in front of you, but the way he’d changed was immediately apparent and the image in your brain now feels almost unreal. 

his hair was a little longer and a little darker, and he was much taller, with broad shoulders that looked way too perfect in a suit jacket. but his face hadn’t changed a bit. maybe his jaw was a little bit sharper and his smile lines were a little bit deeper, but his eyes were the same ones you had always known. 

your hand slips lower and lower until you’re gently running the tips of your fingers over the panel of your underwear covering your pussy, moaning quietly when you feel how wet you are already.

no wonder it’s been so hard for you to focus all day. you’ve been too busy pushing away thoughts of joshua burying his fingers in your tight, wet cunt, cooing about how good you’re being for him and how long he’s waited for you.

automatically you feel your other hand grabbing for your phone, desperate to hear his voice again. you hadn’t said more than a few sentences to him earlier, but you feel like you’ll go crazy if you don’t hear him while you’re in this state. so needy for him and only him, and he doesn’t even know it.

your fingers shake as you press the buttons, knowing you’re about to get yourself into a whole world of trouble but not being able to stop yourself.

“hey.” he answers on the second ring. his tone is deep and husky, and your breath catches in your throat for a second, not used to hearing him talk like that; the last time you heard his voice was long before puberty, and you’re still navigating how to talk to this older, sexier joshua.

your first thought is to wonder if his morning voice sounds equally as sexy, but you’re immediately pushing it out of your head when you hear what sounds like him stifling a yawn.

“sorry, did i wake you? it– it’s not important,” you start, ashamed of how needy you are that you’d call him in the middle of the damn night, unprovoked, like some kind of bible group booty call.

the regret is already starting to set in. he probably hasn’t changed as much as you've built him up in your mind, probably still the obedient gentleman he was before. he’s probably already well on his way to being the head of a church, so of course he wouldn’t be thinking about you like that—

“no. it’s fine,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “always have time for you, sweetheart. what’s up?”

you shove down the butterflies that flutter up in your stomach at the name he calls you, a nickname he always called you when you were kids because he was taught it was always polite to talk sweet to a lady. 

except it feels so much different now. talking sweet to a lady as kids was easy, innocent. but one wrong word now would completely change the meaning behind those pretty words of his, and you aren’t sure how to feel about it.

“i… just– it’s been so long, joshie,” you whisper, surprised at the sudden feeling of tears springing up behind your eyes. you didn’t mean for this to happen— you didn’t mean for any of it to happen. not back then, and certainly not now.

he lets the line go quiet, finally sighing into the phone after a long pause. “i missed you… so much.” he murmurs your name, and the way the rumble in his voice goes straight through you immediately reminds you why you called him in the first place.

your free hand toys with the hem of your underwear again, fighting to keep down the whimper that threatens to escape you. “missed you too,” you breathe out. god, you can’t believe you’re doing this. but for the first time in years, the man you’ve been picturing in your head is right here with you, fulfilling some of your fantasies that you never thought could ever come true.

somewhere deep in your stomach you feel guilty about it, getting off to the thought of him and he doesn’t even know it. would he want to know? would he be okay with it? would he hate you forever if he knew?

he clears his throat, snapping you back to attention and you realize you must’ve been silent for a while, thinking.

“um, so, what are you doing?” you ask, trying to seem casual, but it comes out as anything but. nobody calls anyone this late at night and asks what they’re doing without having a dirty reason for doing so. 

all you can do is hope he’s either too innocent to pick up on it, or that he doesn’t believe you’re the type of person who would call for something like that. you wonder if he still thinks of you as that perfect little obedient church girl he grew up with.

“nothing, just–working on… stuff,” he replies awkwardly. clearly he doesn’t want to go into detail about what he’s doing, and you’re already afraid you’ve interrupted his sleep; you’re mentally kicking yourself for all the blunders you’ve made, and you haven’t even been on the phone for five minutes.

“what are you doing?” he asks back, and you freeze, trying to come up with some excuse, anything. fuck, think of something!

“h-homework,” you sputter out, attempting to hide your unconfident answer with a cough.

apparently it works, because he hums in response, the line falling quiet. you hear the rustling of papers on his end, and you press your fingers harder against your cunt, heartbeat racing in your ears.

your fingers brush against your clit a little rougher than you intend, and a little whine escapes your lips, catching you off guard. you slap a hand over your mouth, hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear and he hadn’t been paying attention.

“are you…?” he asks suddenly, and your cheeks flush, caught red-handed in your sinful act.

you clear your throat, praying (both metaphorically and literally) that he doesn’t notice anything off about you. “am i what?”

his silence on the other end of the phone speaks volumes.

“joshua, oh my god, no, i–”

“what did you just say?”

you freeze. “what… did i say?”

when he speaks again, his tone is even. “don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

that nickname again, and now you know he’s doing it on purpose. innocent, pretty words, completely changed in a split second.

you let out a short laugh, scrambling to find a cover. “must’ve forgot then.”

he hums. “i remember you spent a whole month trying to memorize the ten commandments. we must’ve been what, eight or nine? you wouldn’t have forgotten. i may not have seen you since we were kids, but i’ve still known you most of my life.”

“it was an accident, you know how it is. just slips out. of course i remember them all.”

he tsks, and it feels like your heart stops. “did you forget that lying is a sin, too? you’re two for two now, wanna try for a third?”

damn him! damn his good memory and damn his stupid witty comebacks and damn the way he so quickly manages to unravel you.

you scowl and don’t respond to his question, your silence enough of an answer for joshua to know he’s right.

“why did you call me tonight?” he asks calmly.

you answer truthfully this time. “just wanted to hear your voice again. i really did miss you.”

the phone goes quiet again, and for a second you’re afraid he’s hung up, but then you hear him exhale. “it’s late. what are you doing?”

“i’m in bed, josh. don’t worry, father, i’m not staying up past my bedtime.”

he chooses to ignore your remark. “in bed doing what?”

you give him a half-suppressed laugh. “in bed laying down. what else would i be doing?”

“well, with the way you were trying to hide your moans earlier, i would’ve figured you were doing something more exciting. but if you’re just laying down, then i don't want to keep you long, might as well hang up…”

“no!” you squeak out, cutting him off. you swallow, trying to collect yourself as you repeat the word. “no. fine, whatever, you caught me. but– please, stay.” you can hear the plea in your voice and you know you should be embarrassed at how pathetic you sound, but you aren't. the only thing you can think about is joshua, joshua, joshua, and how good it feels to talk to him again.

“i’m here,” he says softly, and you let your eyes close with a sigh, relieved he’s not going to chastise you. but as much as you’ve both changed as you grew up, deep down you knew he wouldn’t. you figure you could do just about anything and he wouldn’t try to tell you what to do. he’d always been like that, and it’s what you’d loved about him; he never tried to control you or shame you for not acting like the perfect little angel everybody wanted you to be. 

you couldn’t say the same about others in the church. maybe that’s why you’d started to drift away from them and why joshua’s friendship coming to an end had left you so devastated. he had been the one and only person you could always count on, and they had not.

“are you still there?” he asks gently, and you realize you’ve been quiet for too long thinking.

“yeah,” you say finally.

“are you still touching yourself?”

you pause, stifling a gasp, taken aback by his forwardness. hearing him say it out loud made everything seem so real, the realization setting in about what you’re actually doing. “n– no.”

and it’s true. your hand has long since dropped away from your pajama pants, too nervous about being discovered to continue.

“well, why not?” he says. “don’t stop on my account.”

your mouth falls open. “i–”

“clearly you wanted something from me when you called. what is it, sweetheart? i can’t help you if i don’t know what it is you want.”

your brain practically short circuits at that, and it takes a very long minute for you to collect your thoughts into a coherent sentence. you want a lot of things, but you don’t know what’s okay to say or not or if he even wants to keep going. which is a silly thought, because he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want to know. it dawns on you that maybe… maybe he’s curious, maybe he’s thinking about you, too.

“what kind of help?” you ask, still testing the waters. you think you have an idea of what he means, but you ask anyway. you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else, only by yourself; not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t want it to be with someone who wasn’t joshua.

“you said you wanted to hear my voice,” he says, and you swear his tone has dropped an octave. “then let me talk to you.”

you whine a little, still holding back but not putting in as much effort to hide it. “m’kay.”

“would it make you feel better if i told you i’m hard right now?”

you suck in a breath. “yeah?”

“yeah,” he says. “just thinking about you.”

you feel a rush of emotion at his admittance. pride? satisfaction? whatever it is, it makes your cunt throb, knowing that just the thought of you can get him going.

finally you dare to slide your hand down your pants again, unsurprised when you find your underwear sticking to you with how wet you are. you’re soaking, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

“hold on,” you manage, putting the call on speaker as you set your phone on the table beside your bed, scrambling to shove your pants and ruined panties off and onto the floor.

once free, you pick up your phone and turn off the speaker, holding it to your ear with shaky hands.

“all ready now?” he asks softly, and it reminds you of what he used to say before you’d play pretend games together. always making sure you were ready. he was hot back then, too, and you mentally curse yourself for never realizing it sooner.

you hum. “mhm. comfortable.”

“good,” he says, and you can almost hear him smiling. “go ahead and do whatever you’d like. but i want you to tell me what you’re thinking about right now.”

you squirm a little on the bed as you start to circle your clit with your fingers. “thinking about you, joshua,” you sigh, finally beginning to feel relief.

“yeah?”

“yeah. you look even better than i thought you would,” you groan, picking up your pace a little as you slip your index finger inside your walls.

he chuckles. “oh, really?”

“mhm. god, i never thought i’d be doing this. especially not with you.”

“and why is that, baby?”

the name makes you shiver. you’d imagined him calling you it many times, but hearing him actually say it is completely different.

“because—” you whimper, losing your train of thought when your brain suddenly pictures his fingers inside you instead of your own. “i’m so close already, please—”

his tone is gentle but firm. “i want you to stop now.”

“but– ah, feels so good, shua,” you say, moans spilling out of you, finally letting him hear everything you’ve been holding back.

you hear him curse in that low voice through the phone, and your hand stills for a split second in shock, your eyes widening. as far as you knew, he never swore. but then again, there were a lot of things he never did that you're discovering about him now. looks like you weren’t the only one who changed over the years.

“that’s not my name.”

you sit up a little in confusion, pushing your phone closer to your ear to make sure you’re hearing him right. “huh?”

“my name is joshua. if you’re gonna moan like a sinner about how good it feels when i tell you how to touch yourself, you better use my name properly.” he sounds almost angry, but it only spurs you on even further.

you let his words sink for a second before responding. “yes, sir.”

“fuck,” he moans, he actually moans, and if you weren’t already so far gone you would’ve stopped to listen closer, to ingrain the noise in your brain so you never again forget how he sounds. “what did i just tell you?”

“what, you don’t like being called ‘sir’? thought you wanted to be a pastor, joshua,” you say with a smirk, and you know he hears the mischief in your voice, daring him to give you what you want.

it’s probably a good thing he’s not physically in the room with you, because there's no way you would have been able to muster up the courage to say something like that to his face. you wouldn’t have dared to even look him in the eyes, but being on the phone gives you a head rush. because with only his voice and not seeing his face, you can convince yourself that he still isn’t real, that this whole phone call and even your meeting earlier had just been an elaborate figment of your horny imagination, your denial being the only thing saving your last shred of dignity.

“didn’t realize you’d grow up to be even more of a brat than you were before,” he scoffs, and your cunt pulses. 

“what are you doing right now?” you say, a little desperately. the change of subject isn’t very subtle but you don’t care. you won’t lie, you’ve been curious since the start of what he’s doing but he’s been so focused on you he hasn’t said anything about himself. you want to know everything about him— how he’s moving his hands, where he puts pressure, what he thinks about to get himself closer and closer.

he grunts unceremoniously. “i’m fucking my hand and pretending it’s you.”

“me too,” you whimper, closing your eyes as you focus on the movement of your fingers.

after a while he stops responding, and you can hear his heavy breaths over the line matching with your own gasps for air as you curl your fingers inside of you. you figure he must be getting close, but you ask him anyway, because you want to hear him say it.

“yeah– fuck, so close,” he chokes out, and the way his voice gets higher as he lets out a whimper is what finally makes you come undone.

with a moan of his name—his full name—you cum, clenching around your fingers as you struggle to keep your hand moving. your wrist is starting to cramp up a little from the position you’ve been in, but the pleasure coursing through you is more than worth it. it’s almost dizzying, more powerful than any orgasm you’ve had before and when you finally remove your fingers from your aching cunt your head is spinning and your heart is pounding.

you can hear a muffled string of curses through the phone and you know he’s right behind you. thoughts of him sitting on his bed run rampant in your head, imagining his stomach covered in milky cum and his pretty, pretty lips parted as he catches his breath.

the silence is heavy as you feel yourself come back down from your high. you struggle to find something to say after… whatever that just was, so you say the only thing that’s on your mind.

“i really did miss you, joshua,” you say quietly. unlike before, there’s not a hint of teasing in the way you say his name now.

and he sighs contentedly, finally hearing his name on your lips like he always wanted to. “i know. i missed you too.”

you both say your goodbyes and good nights quickly, still basking in enough of the remnants of your orgasms to not be too awkward about it. but after you’re settled in bed (for real, this time) and about to fall asleep, you can’t help but wonder if things between you and joshua will ever be anything but awkward.

a memory surfaces: you and joshua running around at the park behind the church after a sunday evening service, no older than kindergarteners, laughing and playing until you collapse on the grass. your mom called for you both to get ready to go home, and no you’re not allowed to have a sleepover because it’s a school night but maybe this weekend if his mom is okay with it. before you ran off, he thrust his pinky out towards you and you shook on it, making a pact to always be best friends, even when you can’t have sleepovers. it didn’t ever occur to either of you that there might come a day where you wouldn’t be best friends.

you don’t remember what prompted him to make the pinky promise, but you know he’s never broken it. and you can only hope that he hasn’t forgotten it.

it’s a few days later at one of your bible study groups when you see him next, and yet again you’re caught off-guard like a deer in headlights.

you’re sitting with a group of other ladies, annotating material for a test you couldn’t care less about when you hear your name called out– a familiar deep voice you can only pray doesn’t belong to who you think it belongs to.

oh, but it does belong to him, alright. it feels like you’ve gotten the wind knocked out of you when you turn around and see joshua standing behind you, a warm smile on his face that makes you doubt anything ever happened. maybe it really was all just a delirious dream, too many years of yearning built up into one intense wet dream.

he puts a hand on your shoulder lightly, turning you away from the rest of the ladies. “hey, can we talk somewhere?”

and oh shit it was definitely not a dream.

your cheeks burn as you excuse yourself from the table, packing up your bible and pens and shoving everything in your bag as quickly as you can. you can almost hear the snickering already, the gossips whispering to each other that you must have done something unspeakable if the top-student, pastor’s son, joshua hong has to speak with you privately. ah, if only they knew.

you only wish you could go back there and wipe the smirks off of all their faces and tell them about what the perfect little gentlemen they all pretend they don’t have crushes on was doing on the phone with you last night. you wouldn’t do that, not in a million years, but just the thought of it is satisfaction enough. 

joshua leads you down the hall to a room that looks like an empty office. he opens the door for you, then closes it softly behind you.

“whose is this?” you ask, glancing around the room. 

“it’s… mine,” he says almost shyly, gesturing idly to a little engraved nameplate on the desk. joshua hong, pastor’s assistant. because of fucking course he would be.

“oh.”

he clears his throat, and in that moment you realize he’s just as nervous as you are. “listen…” he starts, taking a pause. “about the other night–”

“are you gonna kick me out?” you interrupt.

his brows knit together in confusion. “what?”

“are you gonna expel me?”

“no?” he says, still looking at you, baffled. “why would i do that? i don’t even think i have the power to, even if i wanted. which, for the record, i don’t.”

you don’t reply, focusing your gaze on the carpet instead.

he frowns. “is that really how you think of me? that i just go around tattling to my dad? from that… conversation, i thought it was clear i’m not like that anymore.”

the tips of your ears are burning at the memory of all the things you said to each other over the phone. but it never occurred to you that maybe he was just as sinful as you had been.

you stay quiet, the silence stretching on as shame and embarrassment and a hundred other emotions swirl in your mind and you struggle to figure out what to say.

luckily for you he fills the silence himself. he exhales, looking down at a stack of papers on the desk. “god, you… you don’t know how much i missed you. i thought about you all the time.”

“so did i,” you manage to whisper. “in more ways than you know.”

he gives you a teasing smile. “oh, i have a feeling i do know.”

you hold back a cough and look away, focusing your attention on a painting of flowers on the wall. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“if that’s how you wanna play this, fine.”

your curiosity piques, and you look back at him. he motions to the seat in front of the desk, wordlessly asking you to sit. hesitantly you do, and he starts to sit down at the swivel chair behind the desk, but you clear your throat and he glances up.

“can– can you not sit over there?” you ask softly. “feels like i’m being scolded.”

his expression softens a little, and he rolls the chair back into place, opting to sit next to you instead. “of course.”

except maybe you shouldn’t have asked him to do that, because now he’s sitting toe to toe with you and the closeness is overwhelming. at least on the other side of the desk there was enough distance for you to shrink and hide behind, but here, sitting like this, he can see all of you. and you don’t particularly want to be seen right now.

the tension is palpable as he takes his seat, still watching you. you take the moment to study his features: the slope of his nose and the gentle curve of his lips, the way the light catches on his long eyelashes and the way his broad shoulders look in that perfectly tailored sunday morning service suit.

“i always liked you,” he starts, and your gaze shoots up to his eyes. you open your mouth to ask something, but he shakes his head and you immediately fall silent, letting him finish. “i was almost glad when they made us go to different sunday school classes, because i wouldn’t have to sit there and pretend i didn’t have the craziest crush on you.”

“joshua, i–” you trail off, not even knowing what to say.

he pauses, as if debating his next words. “and i know it’s wrong, but i couldn’t get you out of my head when i… y’know.” his cheeks are flushed but he doesn’t look away from you, eyes searching your own for any hesitance or any sign that you don’t want this.

it’s then that you realize that the boldness you had felt hiding behind your phone, he had felt it too. saying words alone in your room at night was easy. sitting in public, in the daylight, and saying those same words to his face was so much scarier. and knowing that you’re both feeling awkward and shy and a little uncertain of how to talk about it gives you the confidence to keep going.

“when you would what?” you pry. you already know the answer but you want to hear it come out of his mouth anyway. you’ve already heard him say it, but something about sitting in his office, in a church, speaking such filth ignites a spark in you that’s completely different from the spark you felt a few nights ago.

he clears his throat and looks you in the eye, maybe gaining a little bit of that confidence, too. “when i would jerk off i would always wish it was your sweet little mouth instead of my own hand.”

you inhale sharply, and that’s when he finally breaks eye contact, his guilt-ridden gaze shifting to the wall behind you as his cheeks burn redder. “i didn’t feel good about it. felt like i was doing it without your permission, and i didn’t want that. i–”

“yes,” you say hurriedly.

he stops short at your interruption, instantly looking back at you. “yes…?”

“yes, you have my permission. whatever you want, joshua, always.”

his eyes narrow, almost imperceptibly, but you recognize it. even after all these years, after so much has changed, you still know his tells. you wonder if he still knows yours.

he murmurs your name in response, almost like a warning. “don’t say stuff like that,” he says, letting out a shaky breath.

“why not?” you ask, feigning innocence. but you know exactly what you’re doing, and you know exactly how you affect him: the same way he affects you.

he looks up at you. “you really are just as much of a brat as you were back then, aren’t you?” he says with just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“why don’t you find out?”

he groans, leaning back in his chair. “do you know how long i’ve wanted to kiss you?” he says finally.

“probably just as long as i’ve wanted to kiss you,” you counter, and he raises an eyebrow.

you both stand up at the same moment, closing the distance in less than a second. 

you stare at his chest in front of you to avoid his eyes, until he brings up a hand and gently tilts your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“are– you gonna get in trouble?” you breathe, heartbeat pounding in your ears as you stare at his perfect, perfect lips.

he hums, and it sends a shiver down your spine at the close proximity. “are you still giving me permission?” he asks, and you quickly shake your head yes. 

“always.”

he smooths his thumb across your cheek. “then i won’t be in any trouble at all."

and then his hand moves to hold the back of your neck and he's tilting his head and bringing his lips towards yours and then finally, after years of dreaming about it and even more years of denying it, you're finally kissing joshua and there's so many things happening at once that you can't seem to focus on anything because your mind is so full of everything and nothing and joshua and it all just feels so right.

you’re melting in his arms and falling into his touch and enjoying every fucking second of it. your heart speeds up when his hands slide behind your back, wrapping around your body to pull you closer to him, pressed chest to chest.

he pulls away to kiss you again, and again, and again, and you decide you’d be content to be like this forever, standing in his office in the church building making out like you’re the only two people on earth. 

but finally his lips leave yours, and he takes a tiny step backwards, heaving out a shaky breath as he looks you in the eyes. “what are we gonna do now?”

your heart plummets, doubts racing through your mind. did he not like it? does he not like you? did you really just ruin everything? why did he stop? why did he ask that—

but all your questions are answered in an instant when he coughs and you look down, finally noticing the prominent bulge in his dress pants. oh. that.

when you look back up at him his cheeks are flushed bright red, and he immediately begins to apologize.

“shua,” you call out to him, repeating his name the way you know he likes. “joshua. don’t worry about it. it’s fine.”

in fact, you find it incredibly flattering, that just a few kisses and gentle touches could get him this worked up. maybe it really has been you all along.

with a surge of confidence, you step back towards him, wrapping your arms around him and leaning to kiss him. “are you busy today?” you murmur, your cheek brushing against his.

he shudders, hands automatically finding your waist and pushing your hips against his own. “no. are you?”

you sigh, kissing the corner of his mouth. “not anymore.”

“fuck,” he curses, his grip on your body tightening “you really want to…?” he asks, almost shyly, as if he’s in denial this is really happening.

“absolutely,” you say, and you’ve never meant anything more in your life.

in a second he’s got you shoved against his desk, sending papers flying to the floor as he lifts you by your ass to sit you down on top of it. your kisses turn rougher and needier, your hands grabbing at anything you can reach to ground yourself: his hair, his shoulders, his back.

finally he breaks free, dropping to his knees in front of the desk. “please, let me eat you out.”

you moan out loud, probably too loudly for the thin walls of the office. but the visual of him on his knees to do anything other than pray drives you mad, and you need more of him, desperately. “joshua, please.”

he pushes your skirt up your thighs, moving it out of his way so he can stare eye to eye with your pussy. you whimper and instinctively try to hide your face in embarrassment, but something tells you he wouldn’t like that, so you resist, keeping your hands firmly planted on the edge of the desk.

“fuck, you’re soaking,” he says, his voice broken. “you’re so perfect.”

his hands reach up to tug at the hem of your underwear, and he looks up at you, silently asking for permission to continue. you nod eagerly, lifting your hips off the desk so he can slide them off of you, revealing your glistening entrance.

he whines at the sight, pretty lips parted in shock? awe? as if he can’t wait to taste you. he pushes his face into your pussy, gently at first, but when you moan and bring your hand up to his hair he dives deeper.

the moment he attaches his mouth to your clit, you jump, gasping as you try to shut your legs around his head but his large hands keep you held open. his tongue explores every inch of you, moving back and forth, up and down, mapping out your cunt with his mouth. 

“fuck, never dreamed you’d taste so good,” he sighs against your pussy, leaning away to take a breath after what feels like forever.

your legs are shaking and your cunt is throbbing as you also try to catch your breath. you’re not used to being touched like this and you’re definitely not used to being touched by joshua. so many thoughts running through your head and not a single one of them coherent enough to put into words. all you can do is weakly whine out joshua’s name and tug on his hair, pleading for him to keep going. you need release, and you don’t want it from anyone but him.

he stands up, his pants wrinkled from kneeling on the floor but still tented with a bulge so uncomfortably large you feel dizzy just thinking about it. you don’t even know if he’s going to fuck you or even if he wants to, but god you want to see his cock so bad. too many restless nights spent thinking about it, and now you might finally have the chance to see it in front of your face.

your mouth waters at the thought, and you start to slide off the desk, but joshua stops you. “what are you…?”

you look up at him, eyes blown wide with lust and you don’t even attempt to hide your eagerness. “please let me suck your dick. joshua, please.”

he whines, running a hand through his hair. “god, i want that so bad, but… i don’t think i can last if you do, and i was really hoping to fuck you.”

you close your eyes and roll your head back, moaning at his vulgar confession. but he sighs, and he sounds almost defeated, and you look back at him quickly, afraid he’s suddenly changed his mind.

“i’m not—prepared,” he admits, and you tilt your head in confusion before it sinks in what he means.

“ah. don’t suppose you would have any condoms lying around, would you, mr. pastor’s assistant?” you ask playfully, and he shoots you a glare.

“brat,” he mutters under his breath, but you hear it, and your walls clench in response. “no, i don’t have any. not interested in anybody else, so… no reason to.” he looks like he has more to say, more serious things to say, but he keeps his mouth shut, his eyes searching your face nervously.

your stomach flips at his words, feeling your cheeks heating up. you hadn’t thought you would ever get this far, and especially not with him. because of the kind of school you were at, it wasn’t like the people here were doing the kind of things you’ve been doing—at least not publicly. even if you’d wanted to hook up with somebody (which you didn’t), everyone in your vicinity would shame you for even bringing it up. you may have experience with yourself, but anything with anyone else is completely new territory for you.

you fall silent, not sure how to continue the conversation as all your newfound confidence begins to crumble. what were you thinking? caught up in the heat of the moment, saying things you weren’t sure you meant. you were in love with him: that much you were sure of. but everything that comes after that is too new, too scary, at least for right now. you can barely even comprehend that he just went down on you, but you know you enjoyed it and honestly, you’d give anything for him to do it again. but there’s too much going on inside your head for you to even begin to process that right now.

he calls your name and you blink, looking back at him anxiously. “we… don’t have to. right now, or even at all,” he says gently. the tips of his ears are burning red but his voice is calm and steady.

“joshua, i want to,” you start, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap to give you something to focus on other than the way he’s watching you so intently. “but i– don’t know how.”

“neither do i, baby,” he says. the nickname makes you shiver; even though it’s not the first time he’s called you that, especially after the other night, you’re still not used to it. but somehow it’s comforting, and it makes you relax knowing that he’s still the same person you grew up with, the same person that knows almost everything about you. you’ve both changed so much, but deep down you haven’t changed at all.

he pauses when you don’t say anything back. “we’ll wait, then,” he says and wraps his arms around you, lightly at first but then squeezing when you don’t try to pull away. “we have all the time in the world. no need to rush.”

“we… do?” your voice is laced with uncertainty.

he smiles. “of course. i let you go once already, i’m not letting it happen again. never again.”

you turn your head away from him and hide your face, flustered by how sincere he sounds. he hums, and you can hear the pout in his tone so you fight your embarrassment and turn back towards him to ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind since you first saw him days ago. “this is gonna sound so stupid, but… shua, what are we?”

first you were childhood friends, you were best friends, and then you were nothing. right place, wrong time? and then you were… doing something on the phone together, whatever you could call that. and now you were just sitting on top of his desk, sweating from having almost had sex. how do you even begin to put a label on this?

“well, i’d like to be yours,” he says shyly, and just like that all your questions are answered with six small words. you realize it doesn’t matter what label you have; as long as you have him, that’s all that matters.

“yes,” you breathe, lifting your eyes to finally meet his and you see all the love in his eyes threatening to spill over.

he reaches up to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “i’m just glad i finally have you back,” he says with a soft smile as he watches you. “we’ll go slow, we’ll wait— whatever you want. whatever it takes not to lose you again.”

you bury your face in his chest with a whine. you’re hiding again, but even the uncomfortable scratchiness of his dress shirt can’t pull you away from him.

“besides, i don’t want our first time together to be in my stupid little office,” he chuckles and holds you tighter against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head that makes your heart flutter. “you deserve better than that.”

you stay there for a long moment, hugging him like it's the last time you'll ever see him. but this time you know it won't be the last. it's the first, the first of hopefully many, many more.

when you feel like you've been standing there too long, you clear your throat and lean your head back to look at him. "so, um… now what?"

he pauses, those pretty lips turned up in a smile. "do you have plans for lunch?"

"no, i just had that study group you pulled me from. i'm free for the rest of the day."

his smile widens. "perfect. you still like grilled cheese, or did you grow out of that, too?"

you laugh, putting your chin on his shoulder as you hug him. "i haven't changed that much, shua."

after taking a while to collect yourselves (waiting for his erection to go back down so you can leave together without looking suspicious), you walk out of joshua’s office the happiest you've felt in years.

he'd wanted to hold your hand, too, but you were still anxious about anyone seeing you together that you'd refused him until you made it to his car. you were probably just being paranoid and no one would care about two responsible adults talking to each other, but all the time you'd spent hiding from your peers had put you on edge.

so, it wasn't until you were safely out of the church parking lot and in the driveway of his apartment complex that you let him touch you, kissing you over the cupholders with his hands gently holding your neck.

it took everything in you not to climb over the center console and sit on his lap in the driver's seat and kiss him as hard and as deeply as you really wanted, but you knew once you started you wouldn't be able to stop. and besides, he still didn't have any condoms. it didn't bother you either way, since you'd been taking birth control since high school to help with your periods, but if it was what he wanted you'd be more than fine with it.

you don't know what you'd been expecting the inside his apartment to look like; probably some tacky cross-stitch bible verses or a wooden cross hanging on the wall, but his apartment just looked like… a normal apartment. a very clean apartment, actually, though you weren't surprised. he'd always been a neat, organized kid, and it looked like that was one thing he hadn't grow out of.

you watch as he puts his keys on a hook by the door, following him into the kitchen and sitting at one of the chairs.

he grins at you as he opens his refrigerator, pulling out the ingredients for your lunch before taking out a pan.

"shua…" you interrupt him, standing up and walking towards him slowly. "you're not— really thinking about grilled cheese sandwiches right now, are you?"

he hums, eyes following your every movement as the pan sits cold and abandoned on the stove. "there are… other things on my mind, yeah."

"so why are you still trying to make grilled cheese sandwiches?"

by now you're close enough to stand toe to toe with him, and you're sure he can feel the heat radiating off your body when he wraps his hands around your waist, backing you against the kitchen counter. "because i wanna make you lunch. maybe i just wanna spoil my girl a little bit."

a shiver runs down your spine at the new name he calls you. never in a million years did you think this is where you'd end up.

"i think you have all the time in the world to spoil me later, joshua," you mumble, leaning in closer and closer until your lips touch.

in a flash he's hoisting you up and sitting you on the counter. his mouth never leaves yours as you slide your legs around his hips to drag him closer, kisses growing deeper and more desperate now that you can finally be alone together.

his hands slide down your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt and only breaking apart for a second to slide it over your head before his lips are crashing against yours again. 

your hands find his hips, experimentally tugging on his belt to see his reaction. immediately he pulls away from you, 

cheeks flushed and breathing heavily. "sweetheart, i still don't have any condoms. if you really want to now, then we gotta run to the store first."

“i’m on the pill,” you burst out, hoping he gets the message. maybe he has some other reason for wanting to, but you're too impatient to wait for who knows how long it'll take to go to the store, and you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off him for that long. you don't think you'll be able to keep your hands off of him for even a few seconds.

his face goes blank as he processes your words, struggling to understand if you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. “you’d let me…?”

you grab onto his arms, a desperate attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. “raw, yes, joshua. just—please, i need you,” you beg him, cunt throbbing with neglect as you wait for him to answer. 

he buries his face in your shoulder with a groan, gripping his hands underneath your thighs and sliding you off the counter.

with a shriek you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, holding on tightly as he starts to walk out of the kitchen carrying you. "joshua! what the hell are you doing?"

his face is still pressed against your shoulder, and you can feel his lips tickling your bare skin as he speaks. "i'll fuck you on my kitchen counter any day of the week, baby, but i want to have you for the first time in my bed, please?"

his voice is low and whiny, just as desperate for you as you are for him and it makes you moan with excitement. 

he finds his way into his room, stumbling a little when he accidentally runs you into the wall instead of through the doorway, but you just giggle and kiss him harder until he finally drops you on his bed, immediately unbuttoning his shirt.

you run your hands along his chest as he leans over you, feeling the toned muscle that feels almost wrong to be seeing. his physical changes are much more obvious to you now that he's like this, and you know the image will fuel your fantasies for weeks.

your hands move to his belt again and this time he allows it, letting you unbuckle it and toss it away before slowly lowering the zipper. he's already hard again, and your heart races when you put a little bit of pressure on the seam and he lets out a guttural groan in response.

his arms flex as he reaches down to slide your skirt off, and you help him and kick the fabric away, leaving both of you in nothing but your underwear.

joshua pauses, letting his gaze wander your body as you look away shyly. he hums and you look back at him in confusion. "don't hide from me, sweetheart, please," he says, but it comes out more like a whine; not like he's asking, but like he's begging. it's honestly the hottest thing you've ever heard, and even with your nerves he makes it hard to resist.

"dreamt about this for fucking years. years," he moans as he leans over to kiss your chest, reaching behind your body to undo your bra and let it fall away. you whimper when he brings his hands up to cup your breasts, wrapping his mouth around one of your nipples as he starts to slowly grind against your clothed pussy. you can already feel yourself soaking through your panties, and you're sure he can feel it, too.

his hands are like nothing you've ever felt, and you roll your head back against his pillows, arching into him as he massages your breasts with his large hands. you'd noticed them before, but you hadn't realized just how big they were until they were on top of you and made your body seem almost tiny beneath his massive palms.

"shua…" you breathe, tentative hands reaching up to touch his shoulders.

he looks up at you, mouth covered in spit. "yes, angel?"

you whimper at the nickname. no angel you'd ever learned about in sunday school had acted like you are right now, begging a man to fuck you. and on top of that it was before marriage, too; surely if there was a god they would be extremely disappointed in you. but right now you didn't care if the entire universe was disappointed in you, as long as joshua hong wasn't.

it takes you a few more seconds to build up your courage, but finally you open your mouth and tell him, "joshua, please— fuck me."

he slides forward to kiss you again, before sitting back and repositioning himself between your legs. "anything you want, sweetheart."

he lines his cock up at your entrance, and just before you think he's about to push into you, he looks up at you instead. 

"i love you, so much," he says, and you have to fight the urge to hide your face as you grin and giggle like a fucking schoolgirl; like the past version of you would have, if she'd had any sense and figured everything out sooner.

and, like always, he asks, "ready?", and you nod, and it's better than you could've ever imagined.

the whines that leave his mouth drive you close to the edge already as he begins to thrust into you, slowly, gently, just a little bit at a time but it still leaves you gasping from his size.

he keeps moving at a snail's pace until you reach up, fumbling to grab at his bicep as tears nearly spill out of your eyes and beg him, "joshua, more, please."

he leans over you, pressing his body flat against yours as he starts to rock his hips faster, and you cry out from so much pleasure and so much emotion hitting all at once.

"wanted you so fucking bad, for so long, and now you're finally here," he whispers, his thrusts never faltering despite how close in proximity he is to your face.

you whine as your hands claw at his back, digging in as you struggle to hold on and he curses again, pushing into you harder.

"you said i was better than you imagined," he groans, one hand coming up to caress your cheek. "but you're even better than i imagined. you're a fucking angel, so fucking beautiful."

you gasp his name, falling into your orgasm from his words alone as you clench impossibly tight around him. you always thought of him as the nice kid, the rule follower, but here he is, fucking you through the hardest orgasm of your life and saying such filthy things in between praises and compliments.

"jo-oshua, please!" is all you can manage, still struggling to recover before he crests into his own high with a whimper. his eyes scrunch up as he releases inside you, eyelashes fluttering and sweat dripping down his temples, and you think it's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen. 

a constant stream of curses fall from his lips and you swallow them with yours, kissing him as if you're afraid he might disappear into thin air if you don't hold onto him tight enough.

his breaths are shallow when his mouth falls away from you, resting his forehead on your shoulder with a long exhale.

"god…" he starts, then stops and laughs, and you have to tug on his hair to make him face you again.

"what are you laughing at?" you say, cheeks growing hot when he looks at you with droopy, hooded eyes and a lopsided smile.

"nothing," he laughs. "just god. what a funny word."

"and why is that, baby?" you say as you try to hold back a smile, testing out the nickname.

he grins. "because it gave me you. or maybe it didn't. who knows?"

you finally laugh along with him, remembering what he'd said to you on the phone that feels like years ago. "don’t you know it’s a sin to take the lord’s name in vain, sweetheart?”

the church is humming with activity as you make your way to the front pew, carrying two donuts in your hand. people greet you as they mingle about the hall, talking and laughing. some wave excitedly when they see you, others simply smile and offer their hand for you to shake with a friendly “good morning and god bless!”

being a pastor’s wife isn’t something you ever imagined yourself doing, but then again, a lot of things in your life you never imagined doing. you never imagined seeing joshua again, and you never imagined marrying him, either. you certainly didn’t imagine taking over your father-in-law’s church when he retired and decided it was time for joshua to take his place as head of the church. you always knew he would someday, whether he wanted to or not, but you’d be happy to spend the rest of your life by his side no matter where he was or what job he had.

you’d been almost nervous when you decided it was finally time to tell your parents you had been seeing each other, but to your surprise they had been overjoyed at the news. both his family and yours were “just so glad when it happened to be you!”, saying things like “we’d always known it would happen, back since you were children!”, and “so when are we going to get some beautiful little grandchildren to take to sunday school!”

it had been five long and happy years since that very first phone call, and every minute you spend with joshua has been the best of your life.

you walk up the steps to the stage where your husband is waiting, flipping through his notes for the morning’s sermon. you hand him his donut with a grin, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. he smirks at you, imperceptible to everyone else but you can tell what it truly means.

everybody in the congregation always talks you’re the perfect example of a happy, god-loving couple. such nice looking people, so well put together. but behind closed doors, they’d be horrified by the things you say and do together. wolf in sheep’s clothing, as is your husband’s favorite parable to preach.

it’s not the life you imagined, but it’s perfect to you and him.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging with tags or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[pastelpousay]

I’m too lazy to finish this butttt HERES THE ANGST (??) 😻😻

ALSO I LITERALLY TRIED TO POST THIS BUT MY SCHOOLS WIFI IS SO FUCK ASS BRO AND IT DELETED MY LAST DRAFT 😭😭

Anyways art taglist for cool ppl!!

@re3tro0 (the way you literally watched the progression of this lmaoo) @glacier-alchemist @maddieinheaven @delicatestringbean @persephoneflowerpetals @dreamwinged

[ninebluehearts]

Scars Under the Stars

A/n: A special fic requested by @sn1peraj !!💗 I hope this is what you were picturing 💗

Warnings: Angst: hurt comfort. Mentions of Sarah's death. Panic attacks.

Summary: Walking home from Ellie's, you find out about Joel's panic attacks.

-----------------------------------------------------

It was late by the time you and Joel had left Ellie's little home, which was only a five-minute walk from you and Joel's house. You decided to come along and watch Ellie's guitar lesson tonight since you hadn't really seen her since you all arrived at Tommy's. She was busy finally socializing with people her own age, and you and Joel were still working on relearning how to relax for the first time in twenty years.

You stared up at the stars on your way back, your arm firmly intertwined with Joel's. "You're right. She is getting better."

"Ain't she? Personally, I think she'd do better with a bass, but she's making it work."

"Why do you say that?" You leaned your head against his shoulder, looking up at him as he spoke.

Joel cleared his throat. "Well, with the way her hands are shap-" But before he could finish, a dry, harsh cough forced itself out of him, bringing along five more back-to-back, until Joel was doubled over, gasping for air.

"Holy shit Joel, what's wrong?" You asked, gently rubbing comforting circles on his back.

"I'm fine." Joel muttered; his eyes screwed shut as he tried and failed to catch his breath.

"No, you're not. Come here." You guided him over to a random porch step, helping him sit down on the damp wood. "Hey, look at me, okay? Breathe with me." You held Joel's hands in yours, maintaining eye contact with him as you took deep, even breaths.

It wasn't long before Joel could finally breathe normally again, though you were still worried. "What was that, Joel? And don't say you're fine, because we both know you're not."

Joel let out a defeated sigh, focusing on tracing the lines on your palm with his finger. "I don't know. I just get these little moments where I can't breathe and my vision starts to go out, ya know? Like I'm gonna pass out or something."

"What do you think about in those moments?"

"How I can't breathe really." Joel swallowed around the lump in his throat, taking another deep breath. "Or um, how she- what she.." And just like that, Joel finally broke down. Twenty years of suppressing his feelings with booze and pills finally caught up with him, breaking him down until there was nothing left.

"Oh, Honey.." You wrapped your arms around him as tight as you could, holding him as close as possible. You knew there was nothing you could say to make him feel better, but because he felt like he was falling apart, maybe holding him tight would make him feel like he was together again. At least for a moment.

A few moments later, when the worst of it was over, Joel began to stare off into space, as though he were distancing himself from reality "What if Sarah felt like that when she died?" He whispered, another tear slowly slipping down the curve of his nose as he closed his eyes.

That's where this was coming from; it all made sense now. Tommy had told you that he was concerned about Joel a couple of months ago, giving you a brief summary of how Joel thought he was failing Ellie as he felt he did Sarah, but you never thought it was this bad.

"No baby, I'm sure she didn't."

"How do you know? You weren't there. You didn't see the way she gasped for air. You didn't see how hard her little lungs fought-" He sobbed out, his hand flying to cover his mouth. He pulled himself out of your embrace, angerly wiping the tears from his face. "Fuck! Why does it still hurt?! It's been twenty fuckin' years!" He yelled, his entire body trembling from the waves of emotions that just kept crashing into him.

You tried to gently shush him, noticing the lights turning on in some of the surrounding houses. "I know it hurts. It's never going to stop hurting, baby. Ever." You walked over and held his face in your hands, gently wiping away his fresh tears with your thumb. "But maybe it's not so bad. Maybe the pain reminds you to look at it- to remind you of just how much you love her. The pain is always gonna be there, yes, but it'll get easier over time, I promise."

Joel just shook his head, tired and defeated. "I know. I know it's gonna get worse before it gets better and all that bullshit. Doesn't make it hurt any less from where I'm standing."

You pulled him into another tight hug, tearing up when you felt him melt into your embrace this time, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you just as tight. You hated seeing him like this, knowing there was nothing you could do to make it one hundred percent better. But the best thing you could do for him right now, in this moment, is be there.

You stayed like that for a long time, the two of you gently swaying as you held one another. And when you did finally start walking home again, you couldn't help but notice that Joel walked a little bit straighter now. As though he finally left behind a little bit of that weight he constantly carried on his shoulders. It was going to take a lot of work, but maybe, just maybe someday he'll be able to lose it all.

[bluehoodiewoozi]

You Changed Everything

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x gn!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Word Count: 10,6k

Wanings: some stronger language. mentions of violence, blood and injuries. it is implied that y/n was in a gang. small food and alcohol mentions. 

[Series: Serenity Street 17]  Two runaways meet in a bar and decide to get an apartment together to escape their worries. Their relationship has fuzzy borders from then on as they explore each other’s past and worries.

Note: a lot more angst than i’m used to writing but my bestie said the fic is just a mildly angsty house husband au, so idek.

You met him on a rainy summer evening. 

Though you had put in some effort to dress up nicer than you usually would, you still looked and felt like a mess. Your drink sloshed around in the glass but you had little to no interest in it that night. If anything, it was an excuse to escape to this bar.

You barely liked the place more than you liked the people in it, but you supposed it was an improvement from your normal life. At the very least the lights were prettier there, shining gold and red. 

Your thoughts drowned out any sound that echoed between the walls. Perhaps that’s why he caught you off-guard.

“I’ll have a tequila, please,” he called out to the bartender and practically fell into the seat next to yours, startling you out of your thoughts so hard that a drop of your drink fell onto your fingers. 

Eyes wide, you watched this man who somehow looked worse than you did. His hair was haphazardly bleached blonde and cut, a few black pieces peeking through here and there; it was a mess from the number of times he must’ve run his hand through it. 

“Rough day?” the bartender asked him while placing the tequila glass down.

The man scoffed and slumped against the counter. “It always is.”

Before he could ask anything more, the bartender was called elsewhere, leaving the two of you there alone. You couldn’t help but laugh a little – you hadn’t laughed in days – as he downed the tequila and cursed right after. 

“Not much of a tequila guy?” you inquired.

His eyes widened in surprise at the sound of your voice, but a small smile appeared on his face nevertheless. “No, but I figured I should try something different.

“You don’t look like you’re in a much better place mentally,” he tried to joke without even realising how right he was. “So, what’s your tale?”

“I’m not big on sharing,” you told him that evening and took a swig of your drink, “but if you’re patient enough, you might find out.”

He smiled at your words – whether he was amused, understanding or too much of a jokester for his own good you’d never know. Then, he extended his hand. “I’m Soonyoung.”

To the surprise of both of you, a few exchanged sentences turned into hours of talking. By the time the bartender kicked you out (not before asking Soonyoung to cover the both of your bills, which he begrudgingly did) you were so far drunk and gone that you could barely stand up straight. 

You rarely let yourself get to this point, afraid of letting your guard down and getting in trouble that would end with more than a slap on the wrist or a black eye. But this time you couldn’t be bothered to hold back. A new city, a new you – you repeated that to yourself every time you took a shot.

The more you talked, the more you realised the two of you were at the same point in your lives. The same chapter of a different book of a similar genre.

“Hey, here’s an idea,” you started with drunken giggles as the two of you stumbled through the streets together later that night.

Soonyoung seemed only a little more sober than you, seeing as he was the one providing most of the balance the two of you shared on your trip. Still, his face was red and he was laughing non-stop at just about anything, so maybe he just had very good balance. He nudged and prompted you, “What idea? Tell me, tell me!”

“What if we–” You burst into giggles again. “No, we couldn’t possibly.”

“We couldn’t?” he seemed almost scandalised that you would suggest something so preposterous – whatever it was you were suggesting.

“Okay, hear me out,” you eventually managed to get out when you got a break from your laughter, “your life sucks, my life sucks, we’re both new here – let’s move in together.”

He stopped in his steps, halting you with him. His eyes seemed to clear at the idea. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t have a place to stay and not enough money to cover the rent of anything alone. But together– Together we could rent an apartment, somewhere in this city.”

A smile appeared on his face and your drunk self felt a little weak at the knees at the sight. How had you stumbled upon this gorgeous specimen at all?

To your utter surprise, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder a little tighter and nodded, slurring his words a little as he answered, “That sounds wonderful. Let’s do that. Together.”

You moved into apartment 4C close to midnight only a week later. It was then that you learned that Soonyoung wasn’t particularly fond of the dark. Funnily enough, the darkness was where you felt most comfortable.

And yet, as you walked around your new home, 4C was like something out of a horror film. 

The ceiling had obvious water damage. The floors were covered in dust and bits of dried mud. And the bathroom made such terrifying noises that Soonyoung had to ask you to keep watch outside the door every time he used it.

Even the guy in charge had seemed baffled in your interest in the place when he showed you the apartment two days ago. But this was all the two of you could afford. 

Fortunately, there wasn’t much to carry up the stairs. You and Soonyoung only had a single bag each. You and your trusty backpack, Soonyoung and his suitcase – that was all you had. 

Be the state of the furniture of the apartment as it may, at least it was there. You had a sofa, a dining table and a queen-sized bed – what more could you possibly need? 

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” you told your new roommate as the two of you looked around, exhausted from your journey. “You take the bed.”

He didn’t seem to like the idea as much as you expected him to. Instead of a grateful smile, what you received was a disapproving scowl. “No, I’ll take the sofa. You take the bed.”

You were baffled at his response. It didn’t take much to figure out that this man was used to living in luxury – he wore a button-up shirt on moving day, for crying out loud! Why would he possibly give up the bed?

“It’s fine, Soonyoung,” you insisted and prepared to settle down on the sofa. “I’ll be fine. You can spread out on the bed.” You felt a little jealous of him, really.

“But that’s not very fair,” he said and pulled you back up just as you managed to lie down. Before you could protest, he took your place and melted into the cushions. “You go sleep in the bed and tomorrow we can– Ow!”

He sat up as fast as he lied down and glared at the sofa before lifting his hand to inspect it. A bloody scratch stood in his palm, thin and painful – you thought it a warning.  

“That’s it,” you sighed and pulled him up just like had done for you just moments ago, “we’re both sleeping on the bed. At least it has a new mattress.”

Soonyoung grumbled under his breath as he realised that he couldn’t be the perfect gentleman this time. Not with this cut in his hand. 

“Really,” he cursed under his breath and glared at the scratch while blindly following after you by the hold you had on his sleeve, “who even gets injured by a sofa?”

“You, apparently,” you told him with a scoff before pushing him to sit on the bed. 

You turned on the single light in the room and found that the bed was a little smaller than you had thought. Still, you brought this upon yourself, so with another sigh, you picked up your backpack and rummaged through it. 

“What are you looking for?”

“The first-aid kit.”

“Why do you have a first-aid kit in there?”

“Because of you, it seems,” you bit back before victoriously digging the item out and throwing it on the bed. “There, clean that scratch. God knows what that couch has seen. I don’t want to nurse you back to health from the dead.”

“Aw, you care,” he giggled as he looked through the little red bag. 

You rolled your eyes and shrugged off your leather jacket. “No. I just don’t have the money to pay this rent alone.”

“That’s what they all say,” he joked before thanking you nonetheless. 

While he cleaned and dressed his wound, you took it upon yourself to make the bed. The owner had been kind enough to get you a brand new mattress, two blankets and three pillows as well as some bed sheets. You hoped they’d be as comfortable to sleep on as they looked.

Once the bed was made and you lied under the covers, the situation sank in. You were finally independent and free and you hadn’t had to do anything really illegal to achieve any of this. All it had taken was a friend.

Said friend grumbled on the other side of the bed. “Why is it so cold here?”

“The landlord said the heating would take some time to start,” you reminded him softly and tried to get comfortable with the idea of sharing the bed, as big or small as it was. “Just pull the blankets around yourself a little tighter, Soonyoung.”

Silence filled the room. Too loud to let you sleep just yet. When you let out a defeated sigh, Soonyoung spoke up again, “I don’t want to seem rude or needy or anything but–”

“What is it?” you mumbled and turned to face him.

“Can I hold you?” he whispered after a hesitant pause before ranting on, “I’m sorry. I just can’t sleep unless I hold something and it’s cold and you’re here anyway, so I just thought–”

To this day you don’t know what came over you that night. You didn’t let him finish his sentence before you wrapped yourself around his frame. Your arms comfortably rested around his torso, your head on his chest. You could hear his breath hitch and his heartbeat pick up before his arm wrapped around your body. 

“Better?” you mumbled into his chest, thankful that it was too dark to see. It made it easier to forget you were actually cuddling a real human-being and not a giant pillow. 

Soonyoung sighed softly, relieved and happy, before humming. “Better. Good night. Sleep well.”

You didn’t get the chance to reply – you had never fallen asleep faster.

Your apartment felt empty still even after three whole days. It felt less like a home and more like a shell. And yet you hadn’t felt so comfortable in years. A little worn-down, lacking a lot of the essentials, but free and, most importantly, safe from your past.

“It’ll feel more like home eventually,” Soonyoung whispered as he sat next to you on the small torn couch, his side pressing against yours. You felt his gaze on you, his voice impossibly small as he added on, “Right?”

You were still hesitant as well. Without much thought, you leaned into the comfort his warmth offered and rested against your head on his shoulder. It scared you how quickly you had grown used to his presence and affection and – worst of all – how fast you had started to reciprocate.

“The sunrise is beautiful,” you whispered back instead of answering his question, eyes still stuck on the view out of your living room window. A nice big window with a beautiful view towards the river – just like you’d always dreamed. 

Soonyoung chuckled and rested his head against yours. “It’ll only become more beautiful the longer we stay here, I’m sure. We came all this way to see it.”

And come a long way you had, from the cold and unforgiving streets of the city. You could only hope this would be the turning point of your life and you could now finally forget your past. 

“Do you think we could get a pet?” he then asked you. “I think a dog could make this place more lively.”

“No,” you told him before you could even fully comprehend and contemplate. You had always wanted a dog, or a cat. But old habits die hard.

He pouted. “But why?”

“Just because.”

“Because…?” he attempted to get an answer out of you, eyes shining hopefully. 

You bit your tongue despite the excuses threatening to come out one by one: “because we can’t afford one”, “because I don’t trust myself to care for another being”, “because what if my past catches up with me?”. You held your mouth shut and just shook your head instead of voicing any of those reasons.

“Fine,” he groaned in defeat. “But I will win one day and you won’t be able to deny my request any longer.”

A part of you doubted you’d even stay in his life long enough to see that day. But the other part of you was just as hopeful as he was, if not more, and eagerly awaited that day. 

“Can we at least decorate this place?” he then wondered, already eyeing places for trinkets and flower pots. “It’s so cold and empty.”

“Decorate?” You wanted to laugh. “You and what money? We need to find jobs first.”

With an offended scoff, he sat up and glared at you before starting, “I’ll have you know that I have–” and just like that he trailed off and shut up. 

“Right,” he eventually mumbled and reached up to run a hand through his hair, “we’re poor.”

That word could barely even cover your situation. You had been lucky to get anything more than a house-shaped cardboard box for the cash the two of you scratched up just a week ago. It had taken some busking on his part (something you found he was decently good at) and a secret threat to a random guy in the streets on your part (something you knew you were very good at). The apartment was barely up to the standards of any person and yet here you sat.

The only places you had managed to clean so far were the bathroom, the one usable bedroom, and the living room window. This place was a complete mess but now it was your mess and, despite its many shortcomings, you were proud of it.

“Maybe we could clean the kitchen tomorrow,” you suggested after a pause. 

Soonyoung grinned at the idea. “Yeah, it would be nice to finally have some homemade food.”

“When was the last time you had any?”

He frowned in thought and began counting, his lips moving without a sound as he did so. Eventually he said, “About a year ago? Back when I lived with my parents. Mother used to cook the most delicious bulgogi and my grandmother’s kimchi was out of this world–”

As you listened to him reminiscing, it hit you that you couldn’t remember the last time you saw your parents. You could barely even recall their faces. It had been far more than a year.

Soonyoung’s voice suddenly faded into silence. You didn’t even realise because you were so lost in your daze – in an attempt to recall your mother’s smile or your father’s voice, or anything really. Why was there nothing you could fully remember about them? Had you really already worn those bright memory photos down to blurry smudges?

The walk down memory lane came to an abrupt stop when you felt the warmth of a hand against your cheek.

As he gently wiped your face, Soonyoung spoke in a voice that seemed almost impossibly soft, “Why are you crying?”

“I–” You hadn’t even realised you were crying, but indeed, tears were rolling down your cheeks and your breathing was heavier than before. You had walked a little too far into your memory. “Sorry, I don’t know what–”

“Don’t apologise,” he interrupted and carefully pulled you into his embrace. “You never have to apologise to me.”

“Life will get better soon,” he added after a moment of letting you cry into his shoulder. “Let’s just hang on a little longer. We have this entire place to fix up and decorate.”

You sighed. “We’ll have to find jobs first.”

“I’m sure we can manage that. Together.” He offered the most endearing smile, one so full of hope that your frozen heart swelled at the sight. “After all, everybody else has jobs. How hard can it really be?”

It was only a week later that Soonyoung burst into the apartment with a wide bright smile and papers in hand. He immediately located you on the sofa and practically threw himself at you.

“Guess what!”

You blinked at him slowly before softly sighing and asking, “What?”

“No, you’re supposed to guess,” Soonyoung whined and squished your cheeks together for his own amusement. “So, guess.”

Taking a deep breath, you pushed his hand away so you could speak. “You saw a cute dog?”

He paused. “Actually, yes, I did that too.”

“Really?” You hadn’t expected it to be true, honestly.

“Yeah, the guy living across the hall has this fluffy white dog,” he told you, almost getting distracted already. Almost. “But that’s not it. I have far more important news.”

“What news?”

This time he just about stomped his feet and glared at you in disappointment. “I said you’re supposed to guess.”

“Why did I agree to move in with you?” you wondered under your breath before clearing your throat. “Okay, fine. Did you get free food?”

“Man, that would’ve been nice,” he breathed out – and you felt a little disappointed as well because you could only eat so much instant ramen before it became too much – but he still shook his head. “One more chance.”

“You… Yeah, I have no idea.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouted only briefly before a bright smile took over and held the papers out for you to read. “I got us a job.”

Your eyes widened and you sat up immediately, grabbing the papers to inspect them. “You got a job?” 

“For us both,” he beamed and awaited praise, much like a little puppy. “How is it? Didn’t I do good?”

Unfortunately for him, you were too baffled to give him the compliments and head pats he so deserved. “How?”

Though he was clearly a little let down by the lack of praises, he still smiled brightly as he proudly recounted the tale. “I ran into one of the girls who lives in this building – Mina, or something like that – and she said that her parents need help with their shop and she remembered that we were new in the city, so she set us up. They want to meet us the day after tomorrow for our first day at their shop.”

“A shop?” You supposed it was better than joining another streetgang for quick dirty money. At least this sounded legal. “What do they sell there?”

Soonyoung squinted in thought, eyeing a random spot on the wall as he tried to sound out what he remembered. “I think it was a bookstore? Or a bar that has books? Or a–” He sighed in defeat. “Something to do with books.”

“I like books.”

“I don’t, but I’m willing to take anything at this point,” he breathed out and leaned back against the sofa. He let out a groan of pain barely a second later and sat back up to stare at the very spot he had just leaned against. “I don’t care what you say: I’m blowing my first paycheck on a new sofa.”

You laughed at that and he practically lit up at the sound, eyes bright as he watched you. Despite feeling shy under his gaze, you couldn’t help but elaborate on your amusement: “You do know how much a sofa costs?”

“Absolutely not,” he admitted without any shame, “but it can’t cost more than our future health bills without a normal sofa.”

You had to agree with that. 

“How’s your hand?” you then remembered to ask. 

He shrugged and looked at it. “It seems fine. A little sore at times, but I think it’s almost healed.”

“Good,” you smiled and gave him a pat on the head. “I’m glad.”

“And you’re proud that I got us jobs,” he urged with a playful smile, leaning a little too close to you, “right? I did good, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh again. Much like one would do to a puppy, you finally gave him headpats and cooed, “Yes, you did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

He giggled at your affection but made no moves to reject it. In fact, he leaned further into your space and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Thank you.”

“No,” you sighed and held him close, “thank you.”

Soonyoung hadn’t been too far off with his job descriptions. It indeed had to do with books – a café-library hybrid. Exactly the type you had imagined when you were still young and naive. For the past ten years, you hadn’t even thought this kind of business could actually exist.

Under Mina’s supervision, Soonyoung was appointed the newest waiter at the café section. It took him a few days to get a hold of the coffee maker and the cash-register system. 

In the meantime, the far less sociable you was in charge of tending to his near-daily burns as well as restocking and organising the bookshelves. 

It was a perfect work division and you didn’t even mind the job too much – especially not when Soonyoung all but ran over to you with a fresh cup of your favourite hot beverage every time there were no customers in the building.

“Did you make this by yourself this time?” you asked between sips. 

Soonyoung was practically shining, his chest buffed out proudly, as he nodded. “How is it? Better than last time, right?”

“Well, it doesn’t taste burnt this time,” you half-joked and pinched his cheek affectionately. “Good job.”

“Yes!” He just about vibrated in his place, excited to see improvements in his work. “I’ll become the best barista this town has ever seen.”

“Considering you couldn’t even figure out how to use a kettle the other day, I really can’t wait.”

“Right? Me neither.” He smiled at you, choosing to ignore the little jab at his technical skills. “How are the books treating you today?”

You glanced at the return cart. “It’s not the worst day. It’s manageable.”

“We got really lucky with this job, huh?” he thought out loud. “We should get paid today.”

“Still going to buy a new sofa with the first check?” you teased.

He scoffed as if he felt offended by your words. “The moment we get out tomorrow, we’re going to IKEA. I’m not even joking. I cannot stand that damn thing anymore.”

“And how do you suppose we get that thing to the fourth floor?” 

He preferred to not embarrass himself by admitting that he hadn’t really thought that far yet. Instead, he cleared his throat and gestured to the return cart. “Do you need help with those? Mina said I’m not allowed at the counter because I keep stealing her loyal customers.”

“That’s what you get for being too handsome,” you joked and handed him a book to put on the shelf. 

He grinned. “You think I’m handsome? Really?”

“What? You thought you’re getting all those tips just for being so good at making coffee?”

“Well,” he paused and pressed his lips together into a tight line of defeat, “no, but–” 

“But?”

A confident smile came back onto his lips. “But it’s nice to hear that you think I’m handsome.”

You scoffed and shoved a book to his chest. “I’m never admitting anything to you again.”

“You can’t help it. You think I’m handsome.”

You chose to not interact with him for the rest of the work day, aside from a few hums, remarks and laughs at his dumb jokes. No one could fully ignore Soonyoung. The day went by faster in his presence.

To your surprise, you had multiple notifications when you finally remembered to check your phone. A bank notification to inform you of the paycheck going through – you let out a little sound of cheer because you were officially no longer poor to the point of hunger – and two messages from a number that made your blood run cold.

[did you really think you could just run to a different city and your debts would be forgotten?]

[tomorrow, 8 pm, the corner of rosewood and williams. bring the money and don’t be late.]

And just like that your week took a sharp left turn towards hell.

“You’re not coming to the store with me?” Soonyoung wondered in surprise as the two of you walked out of the store. “Why not?”

You hated lying to Soonyoung. So you didn’t. “There’s someone I have to meet.” 

Not a lie. Just an omission. He would never know. It was for the best.

“Am I supposed to pick the sofa out on my own then?” he pouted and tugged at your sleeve. “But it’s your sofa too.”

“I trust your taste.” 

Now, maybe you weren’t entirely uncomfortable with lying to him. But this was a lie so dumb and bold that it might as well have been a joke with how annoyed he looked. 

You groaned under his scrutinising stare. “Fine. You can just text me when you think you found something you like. And then I’ll say if I like it or not.”

He seemed a little hesitant still, almost as if he knew that your plans for the evening were too dangerous for you to go on your own. But he trusted you. You wished he didn’t.

Finally, he sighed softly and nodded. “Fine. But if you don’t answer within five minutes of each text, I have the right to be mad.”

“Deal.”

“Deal!” He smiled proudly at that and nodded. “I’ll go and find us a sofa then.”

“How are you going to get it inside?” you still wondered. 

He rolled his eyes, making a show of his tiredness of you underestimating him. “I already talked to Jihoon. He promised to help and get some of the other guys to help as well.”

“Good,” you smiled and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. Somehow you felt the need to show him you cared in this moment. “Don’t strain your back, okay?”

He nodded, looking a little solemn at the realisation that you really wouldn’t go along with him. Briefly you wondered if he actually did know where you were going as he took your hand and insistently looked into your eyes. His voice wavered a little as he told you, “You be safe too, alright? Call me if anything happens.”

“Of course,” you breathed out and shook off his hand before heading your way. How you wished you could keep your promise.

As you made your way to the meeting point, you briefly wondered if you were doing the right thing at all. This was something the you from your hometown would’ve done. You would’ve liked to believe that the you of this city was brave enough to not even bother with your past.

Maybe it would’ve been smarter to call the authorities and ask them for help. Heck, even asking for help of one of the guys living in your building could have had better consequences than your current plan.

But your mind was already made up: you were going to break out of this circle the only way you knew how – by facing it head-first. 

You reached the the corner of Rosewood and Williams just a minute before 8. When you did, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. When you checked it, you couldn’t help but sigh at Soonyoung’s name on the screen. As you were about to reply, however, a voice interrupted you.

“Glad to see you’re still as punctual as ever. Now, where is my money?”

You took a deep calming breath. It used to be a lot easier to fake nonchalance before you met Soonyoung. He had changed you. 

“I don’t have your money.”

When you turned to face the woman, you did so with the knowledge that it would be your last time to do this, one way or another…

Soonyoung never did hear back from you after the two of you went your different ways in the street. Though he had expected you to ignore his texts and calls, even expected you to come home a little late, he truthfully wasn’t even half-prepared for the anxiety the situation would bring him. 

He spent the better part of the night pacing back and forth in the apartment. He was restless – more so than ever before. He hadn’t even been able to pick out a new sofa despite his generous paycheck because he was simply that worried. 

There had been something off about you when you bid goodbye that evening and he both feared and waited the moment you’d come home. Even when he tried to rest, he couldn’t go to sleep until you came back to him. 

At around 2 am he gave up on sleep and simply sat down on the floor in the middle of the living room, facing the front door as if it could open at any moment now. Between his anxious sighs and curses, he unlocked his phone in hopes of an update. When there was no sign of you even there, he groaned and texted Jihoon to let him know – the man was his only friend in this building besides you. 

The clock dragged on. 

3 am – nothing. 

4 am – nothing but it appeared that Jihoon had fallen asleep in spite of Soonyoung’s panic. 

5 am. He heard a rustle at the door. 

At first he paid it no mind, assuming it was Seungkwan and Bookkeu going for their morning walk. But his half-asleep brain kicked right into gear when he heard the sound of keys against the lock – against your lock.

Without a second to lose, he jumped up – a little sore from sitting on the ground all night.

He just about cried when he opened the door to find you there. “Where were you?! It’s 5 in the morning!”

You could only whine in response, all of your energy going into staying even somewhat upright. It took Soonyoung a moment to realise your distress, but once he did, he flew right into action.

“Wait,” he gasped as he helped you inside, “you’re bleeding?!”

“Just a little,” you told him and sat on the chair he promptly pulled out for you. “It’s fine.”

Soonyoung looked ready to scream when you told him that. But he must’ve realised that was a dumb idea because he squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and then mumbled under his breath, “I’m so killing you after this, I swear to god–” He ran towards the bathroom all while still grumbling, “Where’s that stupid first aid kit? Under the sink?”

You could only grit your teeth and fight the urge to cry. You weren’t one to cry – crying meant weakness and Soonyoung had seen you at your weakest two more times than you would have liked.

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital? What if you die?” he scolded you once he emerged from the dimly lit bathroom with a familiar red bag. 

He placed it onto the counter next to you and prompted you to lift your shirt enough to show him the wound. You shook your head and pushed him away before reaching for the bag yourself. With practised grace, you pulled out the disinfectant and bandages. “Don’t come any closer.”

“I just want to help–”

“You’ll get nightmares,” you interrupted him while doing everything you could to not cry out when the disinfectant touched your skin. After letting out a muffled hiss, you looked up to still find him there, staring like he couldn’t look away. You rolled your eyes at the sight. “Soonyoung. I’m serious. I can do this myself.”

He seemed almost sad at the mention. “Yeah, but… Just because you can doesn’t mean you should have to.”

You sighed and continued to clean the blood. “Just let me be.”

“What happened to you?” he eventually asked your most feared question. You didn’t dare open your mouth to answer. Yet, he pressed on, his voice rising a little with each passing question. “Who was it? Was it that someone you had to meet? What did they do to you?” When you still didn’t dare answer, he scoffed and his worry grew into anger. “I asked who did this to you?!”

You gulped. “An old… acquaintance.”

“Acquaintance?” 

It was then that you realised that he wouldn’t leave you alone before he got the full story. You didn’t like that idea one bit. “Soonyoung, you don’t need to know any more. Just leave it.”

He rolled his eyes and clenched his teeth. “Let me get this straight: you think I should watch my roommate– no, my closest friend walk in, blood all over them, at the dead of the night – hell, it’s morning! – and just leave it?” He just about laughed at the idea. “You won’t let me tend to your wounds, so at least tell me what happened. You owe me that much.”

A deep breath – painful due to your injuries – and a sigh. You hesitantly began, “I used to hang out with some… horrible people. I didn’t like to, but I didn’t have a lot of better options around. So, I became a horrible person too.”

“You were in a gang?” His eyes widened before he looked away, as if he was ashamed of even knowing you. At least so you assumed – it was a look you were accustomed to, at least. But when he looked back at you, his eyes were brimming with tears. “They came to get back at you for something, didn’t they?”

You cringed. “I may have stolen some of their cash and… told on them to the police in exchange for a new start.”

Soonyoung wasn’t the smartest guy in town, or even the building, but it appears he was smarter than you. “You didn’t think one of those bad guys would find out and come to get back at you? Didn’t even consider it?”

“Not really, no.” You refused to actually admit that you were that dumb just a few months ago. At least you refused to admit it directly. “I guess I was just foolishly hopeful.”

He let out a deep sigh, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned against the counter, staring up at the ceiling to blink back the tears of both rage and sorrow he felt for you. 

Silence once again filled the room as the two of you stood there, one cleaning their wounds and the other thinking thoughts unknown to the other. Finally, after what felt like forever, once you had wrapped the bandages around your abdomen and arm, Soonyoung looked at you again. 

The tears were gone and a glint of fire burned in his eyes instead. His voice was uncharacteristically cold as he uttered, “They won’t touch a hair on your body again. I’ll make sure of it.”

You blinked in confusion. “How exactly?”

He didn’t offer another word of explanation. Instead, he sighed and glanced at the clock before rubbing his eyes and yawning. He offered you a narrow-eyed stare and an accusatory pointed finger. “You’re not coming to work tomorrow.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You’re taking a sick day, maybe a week. I’ll talk to Mina about it, don’t worry,” he told you, his voice still low and even before he made his way to the bedroom. You followed soon after.

“We need the money though,” you argued all the while trying hide your limp. 

He turned around to offer a pointed stare. “You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine–”

His voice rose again, “Did you forget the part where you almost died?!” He took a calming breath, closing his eyes before adding in a whisper, “You’re staying home and that’s final.”

You didn’t dare argue.

Though you were anxious of what was yet to come, of how your relationship with Soonyoung would go on, it appeared your exhaustion won. The bed had never felt so comfortable and safe, if a little cold without his arms around you this time. 

In fact, he made a conscious effort to remain on his side of the bed this time, barely willing to graze against you as the two of you slept.

But when the morning finally came, even through your sleep, you felt a hand softly brushing over your cheeks and soft murmurs of promises you would forget by the time you woke up.

You spent the next day home, alone. It was lonely and cold without Soonyoung around as his presence had largely made up for the lack of decorations and home-like feeling in the apartment.

When he didn’t as much as spare you a second glance in the morning, you first worried your secrecy had enraged him to a point of silence and the ruins of your friendship. 

You spent half the day in bed, contemplating if you could really face the day when you had managed to frustrate him so. The other half of the day was spent aimlessly walking in circles around the apartment, looking for anything to do to distract you from your worries. 

You found yourself glancing at your phone in hopes of a new message from him, of any sign he thought about you at all.

Fortunately, Soonyoung proved your fear wrong when he returned from work with a bright-eyed smile and a take-away bag of pastries from the café. “Hey! How are you feeling today?”

Just hearing his voice made you soft inside on this day. Without a second of hesitation, you ran over (the best you could with your limp) and pulled him into a hug. He was taken off-guard by your sudden affection, almost to the point of dropping the bag of pastries he’d brought. 

When you didn’t utter a single word, his smile morphed into a pout and his hand reached up to rub your back. His voice softened. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. Finally, you found your voice. “I thought you were mad at me.”

“Mad at you?” He opened his mouth to argue but soon realised that he was, in fact, just a little bit upset with you. “Well, I’m not going to let you be miserable just because I’m a little upset with you. Speaking of which, I bought you some–”

“Just hold me now. Let it be,” you whispered and leaned further into his embrace. He couldn’t find it in himself to protest.

So he just held you, right there in the front hall, still fully dressed in his coat and boots. 

“Soonyoung,” you then started, “about yesterday…”

“You don’t need to apologise.”

“It’s not that. I just want you to know,” you leaned back to look at him, “you don’t have to worry about the guys who hurt me.”

His brows rose. “What do you mean? Of course I have to worry about them! They hurt you and you just want me to forget about that? We should report them to the authorities not–”

“I don’t think you understand,” you laughed a little, though there was little humour in the sound. “Soonyoung, we don’t have to worry about them anymore. They got what they wanted and, believe me, they fear me more than I fear them now. I walked out pretty unscathed compared to some of them.”

Soonyoung opened his mouth to inquire some more but remained silent. “I… don’t think I needed to know that. But,” he sighed out in relief, “I guess that means I don’t have to ask for a favour from a friend of mine after all.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What kind of friend?”

“... The head prosecutor of this part of the country.”

“You–” Your jaw dropped. “You know the head prosecutor?”

“I know a lot of people,” he admitted with a shy laugh, stepping back out of your embrace to sheepishly scratch the back of his head. “Didn’t I tell you?”

“What kind of people?”

“Powerful ones.” Your silence prompted him to add some examples. “The prime minister, some people in the state secretary… The president.”

It strangely made sense now that you thought of it. He did tend to dress a little too formal. He was impeccably polite. And yet he seemed to lack any understanding of the most trivial things. 

“You come from old money, don’t you?” you eventually realised. “You’re one of those Kwons.”

“Those Kwons?” he wondered.

You smiled as the pieces fit further together, forming the perfect picture you had been to close to fully see. “One of the richest families in Korea. You’re an heir to a billion-dollar fortune, Soonyoung. I kept wondering why your name rang so familiar.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t done a very good job of hiding.”

“But why are you here then?” you asked, tilting your head. “You’re rich, you’re practically famous. Why this dump? Why me?”

“That– That is a story for another day,” he sighed and took off his coat, toed off his shoes, and walked into the apartment.

But just like he had been the day before, you decided to keep pushing. “Soonyoung.”

And unlike you the day before, he cracked far more easily. “I was sick and tired of the way I was treated. I was practically a play doll for the company – I was whatever they wanted me to be, whenever they needed me to be. I never got to grow to be what I wanted.”

“Sounds exhausting.”

He laughed bitterly and slumped onto the sofa, you following right after, your hand reflexively coming up to rest on his shoulder. “You have no idea. I was a Kwon before I was Soonyoung. I was the property of the company before I was my father’s son. I had all the money in the world but none of the freedom to use it. I hated every second of it. So…” He sighed.

“You ran away.”

“Thought it was my only option. But I don’t think I realised how much more difficult life is without all the money and the contacts.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered and let him lean into your side, his head coming to rest on your shoulder. With the softest kiss on his forehead, you promised, “We’ll figure it all out together.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, just taking in the situation and each other’s company. Now that neither of you had anything to hide anymore, a strange new sense of home filled the apartment. 

The sofa was still just as creaky and hard as the day when you arrived, and the rooms were still hauntingly empty, but there was more than enough comfort for the two of you. 

“So,” he started again, a little more cheerfully, “do you want macaroons? I bought some.”

You smiled. “I could go for something sweet, now that you mention it.”

“Sugar helps you heal faster,” he joked and poked your side, making you wince just a little, “and you need it more than I do.”

“Does that mean I get to eat extra macaroons?” you teased and he immediately gasped at the mention, wounded by your suggestion. 

“After all I have done for you–”

“Just kidding, just kidding.”

Despite Soonyoung’s protests, you returned to work just one day later, even as you continued limping and wincing every time you moved.  

Obviously, he kept on worrying and checking in on you at every chance. And there was nothing you could do about it.

It was both amusing and annoying to see him peek between the shelves every time he caught a break, as brief as it was. Each time, he’d offer a toothy smile and sometimes a candy he nicked from the break room. 

“You know you have a job of your own, right?” you laughed when he returned to your side for the 20th time that day. “I bet there’s a queue forming at the register already.”

“Nah,” he waved away your concerns and leaned against the bookshelves to watch you, “rush hour’s done. We should be fine for half an hour at least. Besides, I’m more worried about you.”

“And you’ve chosen to spend that half hour bothering me just because of that? Any other reasons?”

“You’re pretty to look at.” No hesitation. Not even a waver in his voice. “I love spending time with you.”

You scoffed and hoped he wouldn’t notice how flustered he made you feel. “You don’t know a lot of people, do you?”

“No, but the people I do know are all wonderful. Like you. Oh, and did I tell you that I ordered a new sofa for us earlier?” He grinned proudly. “So you can rest better while you heal.”

“Can you two stop flirting?” Mina’s voice carried into the bookstore side of the building. “Soonyoung, you’re supposed to be helping me clean!”

His eyes widened at the mention. “Oh shoot.” He hesitated to return to his post, eyeing you in concern as you lightly leaned against the shelves after a movement that was too sudden. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Promise?”

“Soonyoung.”

“Fine, I’ll go. But when we get home, you’re not moving even an inch without my permission,” he threatened with a playful smile before kissing your cheek and rushing back to the counter.

You spent the next half hour in a daze — it was the first time he had kissed you at all.

From then on, you often wondered if you even deserved the affections of this man. He seemed far too great and perfect for you. Too wonderful and kind for the likes of you who used to make people’s lives hell for the fun of it. 

But sometimes you thought maybe – maybe he was exactly what you deserved and needed: a broken yet cheerful man to mend your equally broken and lonely self. Maybe you were meant to heal each other.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” you asked him through a tired laugh as he frantically flipped through the instructions’ booklet. “Because it sure doesn’t look like it.”

“It’s a sofa,” he grumbled, “how hard could it possibly be?”

“You keep saying that but then it has also taken you like an hour to assemble even a third of it.”

He hummed in response, brows furrowed, too deep in the instructions to really listen. 

You scoffed at the sight. It had been unbearably adorable just thirty minutes ago, but now? It had been well over an hour and the heating was acting up again. You were getting cold. Very, very cold. 

But unfortunately Soonyoung had explicitly forbidden you from moving a single finger unless you wanted to extend your rest – a rule you had taken for a joke at first. But now an entire month had passed and Soonyoung had kept his promise: when you weren’t at work, you were on bedrest at home until he deemed you healthy again.

Thus, now wiser than a month ago, you remained seated on the old sofa, arms wrapped around yourself for warmth, and sighed. “Soonyoung…”

“Listen,” he sighed and looked up at you finally, “I am trying. This thing is more complicated than it looks.” 

You pouted – a habit you picked up after living with this man for over two months now. “But I’m cold… ”

His pout matched yours immediately. “What can I do about that?”

“You could hand me a blanket?” you offered with a hopeful smile. 

Soonyoung chuckled at your tone, his earlier frustration at the sofa disappearing immediately. He got up and headed to the bedroom, soon emerging with a warm blanket and a garment in hand. He placed both in your lap. “Here, a blanket and you can have my hoodie, too.”

“Your hoodie?” you wondered, picking up the item and eyeing it suspiciously. “Weren’t you wearing this just now?”

He shrugged. “Nice and warm for you, sweetheart.”

You shut up at the nickname, afraid that if you voiced another thought your voice would betray you. But your face must have betrayed you regardless. 

“Gosh, you’re so cute!” he cooed just seconds later, squishing your cheeks together a little before pressing a kiss to your forehead as he now often found himself doing. It was as if his need for physical affection had doubled after you got injured.

You whined and shook out of his hold, pulling the blanket over your head to hide. “Stop calling me cute. I’m not cute.”

“You’re absolutely so cute.”

“I’m not.”

“The absolute cutest.” He continued squeezing you through your warm, cosy fortress made up of a single blanket. Thankfully, he soon let up, with a laugh, and returned to his spot on the ground where the pieces of the sofa lied. 

“Okay, I can do this,” you heard him whisper to himself in encouragement. You quietly cheered him on from underneath the blanket, peeking out just a little to watch his adorable pout and furrow of brows return. 

“Fuck…” you mumbled under your breath, blood running cold in fear despite your heart beating faster in adoration, “I think I might be in love.”

You had dreaded this day. Feared it. Had nightmares about it. But it had come and it was even worse than you imagined: you had finally fallen in love. 

But love? Love meant being tied down. It meant being vulnerable and loyal. It meant being there for him when he needed you. But you weren’t sure you could offer that to him. 

It was a terrifying realisation. You weren’t used to being tied down or attached to anyone. You had made more enemies than friends in your lifetime. Lovers? Never. 

Then there was the issue of reciprocation: just because you were in love didn’t mean he had to be as well. And this was something you couldn’t bear.

You decided that a lonely heart was better than a broken one and distanced yourself in hopes of it being a passing fancy. 

It started small. Short answers to his questions. Avoiding his eyes at work. Rolling as far away from him as you could in bed (a fruitless effort, as somehow you still woke up in his arms). 

When he didn’t seem to notice, you escalated. Avoided him at all possible places. Took your breaks when he was too busy to join you. You even began sleeping on the new sofa under the pretence that the rising outside warmth was making the bedroom and his embrace too hot to sleep in. 

Had you not been so preoccupied with your own feelings, you would’ve noticed the way his eyes shone less brightly and his smiles didn’t quite reach as high as they used to. He had noticed your distancing efforts, and he was heartbroken.

Still, you didn’t dare risk it. You didn’t want to get your heart broken when you were already the most fragile and vulnerable you had been in years. 

“Okay, I have had enough of this,” Mina declared one day, stomping over to your section of the store to drag you to lunch. She practically threw your jacket at you before leading you to a café across the street. “Come on.”

After sitting down, you began to fear the worst. “So–”

“Why are you playing with Soonyoung’s feelings?” she interrupted, crossing her arms over her chest while glaring daggers at you. You paled at her sharp tone. “Is this a game to you?”

“Game? I’m not following–”

She scoffed out a laugh. “Not following?! Have you even looked at him this past week?”

“Sure I have.”

“Really? And you didn’t notice anything strange?”

“Strange as in?”

Her stern look dropped into something more akin to genuine concern. “You– You actually didn’t notice?”

“I have never been so confused in my entire life,” you confessed despite the little bell at the back of your head ringing to say that you knew exactly what she was talking about. 

She relaxed in her seat and stared at you, wide-eyed. “I’m worried about both of you now, then. Listen,” she leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, “I know I used to tease you about flirting all of the time and what-not, but… I miss hearing the two of you goofing off at work. Now it’s just dead-silent all the time.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Did something happen between the two of you?”

You hesitated. 

“Come on, you can tell me,” she encouraged sweetly. “Maybe all you need is someone to listen to you.”

“I… I think I might love him,” you eventually whispered, breaking under her relentless stare, “and I don’t know if I’m ready for it. Or if I even deserve it.”

“Oh, honey…”

“He’s so sweet and he’s funny and caring and gives me his hoodies when I’m cold and he learnt to cook so I wouldn’t have to. And me– I’m just a wreck. I don’t deserve to love him.”

“But he loves you,” she whispered so sincerely you almost believed her. You shook your head at the thought, laughing at it almost, until she took your hand and repeated, “He loves you. And I think you’re the only one who hasn’t realised yet.”

“You read too many romance novels,” you told her with a sigh. “How could he ever love me?”

“I assume he thinks the same way about you,” she told you with a sympathetic smile. “You know, he talks about you a lot. I swear he could write a whole novel about you. So, why can’t you just love him back?”

“He doesn’t love me. Even if I love him. He can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if he loves me, he’ll get hurt. He’ll find out that I’m more broken than I let on. He’ll get his heart broken and hate me for the rest of his life. I don’t want that to happen.”

“But,” she was close to tears, always a hopeless romantic at heart, “what if he’s your romance of a lifetime? What if he’s the one that’s meant to be with you?”

“What if we crash and burn?”

“But how do you know that you will if you won’t even give it a chance?”

You didn’t say anything else but her words echoed in your head for days to come.

Soonyoung was many things. Patient was not necessarily one of his qualities. In fact, he was rather short-tempered and he wasn’t afraid to admit it.

He let you be for a week – two even. He forced himself to be patient and calm and keep smiling even as you ignored him. He almost hit a breaking point when you picked up your blanket and pillow and left to sleep on the sofa, but still he told himself that you were going through a phase and you would come out of it a warmer person. 

But then the third week began and you were colder than ever. He felt as if an ice wall had been built between the two of you. And frankly he was sick of it.

When the day came to a close, he gathered his courage and headed out the café door. As usual by now, you stayed behind at work a little longer under the guise of working overtime. And unlike usual, he stood there waiting for you outside the store.

About an hour passed and he was about to lose hope when you finally stepped out, clad in your hoodie. He jumped up from his spot on the sidewalk and ran to meet you. He didn’t bother to smile. 

“Soonyoung,” you gasped in surprise and took a step back as if to hide. “What are you doing here? You should be back home. It’s late.”

“Strange,” he laughed humourlessly, “I was about to say the same about you.” He looked at you up and down once before sighing and shrugging off his jacket, despite your noises of protest. He placed it around your shoulders, adjusting it as he spoke, “Where’s your coat? It’s not even proper spring yet and you’re walking around like it’s summer.”

“I’m fine.”

He frowned and scoffed. “I’m not.”

“Why?”

“Because this is the first proper conversation we’ve had in three weeks,” he whispered, hand falling from your shoulder to your palm. “Did I do something wrong? Did I upset you? If you were so mad at me for making you rest, you should’ve just said so. I would’ve–”

“That’s why I didn’t say anything. Because if I told you that something was wrong, you would do anything to fix it. But you can’t fix this.”

“I can try.”

“I don’t want you to.”

He let go of your hand to run his fingers through his hair, tugging at it as he sighed, “Why not? Why won’t you let me help you?”

You felt your lip begin to wobble. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, Soonyoung.”

He frowned at your words. “Why would I get hurt?”

Why did he have to be so damn stubborn?

“Because I love you, and if you loved me, nothing good would come out of it! I’m not good enough for you!” 

You felt a stray tear fall. Perhaps it was too late to hide now. Your voice wavered as much as your confidence did. Because even when you shouted at him, even when you broke his heart, he only looked at you as if you had set the stars in the sky to light his way home on this dark night. 

“You’re making me feel things I never thought I could and it’s scary. You changed everything: the sun is suddenly brighter because it reminds me of you, the people I used to deal with regularly are suddenly scarier because I fear they’ll come for you, and I don’t know if it’s good or bad, whether I’m happy or sad. I’m a wreck, and I’m not good for you.”

“You think I don’t feel the same way about you?” he breathed out after a pause, close to tears himself. “Do you have any idea how selfish I used to be? I ran away from my family just because I wanted to prove myself. I’m not even disinherited, I still have access to all that money if I want it – but, instead, I made you live in that shell of an apartment with me because I was too damn proud to ask my parents for help. I’m not any better than you.”

While you reached up to wipe his tears, you gave in to the temptation to run your fingers through his hair: it had grown since you moved together. Blonde and spiky and short when you met, his hair was black and smooth now, almost reaching past his eyes. He looked like a different person all-together – more mature and sure of himself than before. You wondered if you did too. 

“You say I changed everything for you,” he spoke softly, leaning his forehead against yours, “but you changed everything for me too. Please don’t take it all away from me now. These past three weeks have been like hell for me. Please make it stop…”

You couldn’t even find any other words to say. Perhaps you really were perfect for each other as Mina had said. Two broken pieces that fit together. 

“Can I…” He took a deep breath before whispering, “Can I kiss you? Even if it’s just this once.”

You nodded. His lips found yours barely a moment later, soft and plush, filling you with a warmth you suddenly craved. The kiss was too brief for you liking you found and when he went to regretfully pull away, you pulled him right back. 

The doubts you had, faded into nothingness, but the warmth of his embrace remained as his arms wrapped around your body. It was then that you decided to follow your heart instead of your mind. 

“I was being dumb, wasn’t I?” you breathed out when the two of you stepped away from one another, arms still lingering. “I’m sorry.”

“You may be dumb, but I’m no better,” he whispered with a light laugh. “So, does this mean you’ll give me– give us a chance?”

You pressed your lips to his again instead of an answer.

[bonus epilogue]

He whined and fell back into the mattress, letting it consume him whole. “Do we need to fix the other bedroom? We can just share this one.”

“Don’t you want your own space?” you wondered while picking your clothes for the day.

“Why would I?” He pouted. “Why would I need my own space when I could just be in yours?”

You groaned at that. Ever since you began dating, he’d been nothing short of affectionate: holding your hands at every chance, hugging, cuddling, kisses, pecks, head pats. And as much as you tried to hate it, it was hard to find it anything other than endearing.

“Okay, but if you don’t want your own bedroom–”

“Correct.”

“–then what should we do with our other bedroom?”

“... a room for our pets?”

“We don’t have any pets,” you told him with a laugh and sat down next to him to play with his hair (a gesture he greatly enjoyed). “All we have is that one houseplant Mina gave us.”

“I’ve been thinking about that, actually.” He sat up abruptly, eyes shining, a bright smile on his face. “We should get a dog.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Didn’t we have this conversation already?”

“Yes, but it was before we started smooching–”

“I hate that wording.”

“Romantically cuddling?”

“No.”

“Fine, you’re boring. It was before we started dating and I think we’ve grown a lot since then. We’re ready for a kid.”

It appeared your heart was made of soft cotton-candy rather than cold hard stone. You had eased up greatly in the past few months. And so, not even begrudgingly, you sighed and agreed, “We can get a dog.”

He lit up like the 4th of July. “Really?”

“Yes, but it has to be a dog we both like,” you compromised (or so you told yourself to not admit how easily you gave in to him). 

“Then we have a reason to make the other room our pet room,” he declared and jumped to his feet. “Let’s get started.”

You laughed. “Now?”

“Yes, now. When else?”

“I don’t know. I’m too tired.” You emphasised your point with a theatrical yawn. 

Soonyoung giggled at the sight of you slumping back in the bed and leaned down to press a single kiss to your lips. “Better?”

You pouted and shook your head.

Another kiss, followed by three more. You smiled now and sat up as he gently pulled you by the collar of your sweater. 

“Great, then let’s eat some breakfast and get planning.” Leaving you standing in the middle of the bedroom, he walked out. Then he turned once again at the doorway and smiled brightly, as if an idea had struck him right there. “We should name our dog Tiger!”

“We’re not naming our dog Tiger.”

“What about our first-born child then?”

You raised a brow and followed after him. “Absolutely not.”

“You’re no fun.”

“And yet you love me.”

He sighed deeply. “I do love you.”

A/N: this fic took so long and i am so sorry. the next fic will hopefully be ready faster and it’ll be more fun to read <3

[insomniphic]

“I just want to get to know you better because I care about you, okay?”

He’ll understand.

[newbornwhumperfly]

whump aesthetics • mercy the mermix

(in honor of @much-ado-about-whumping & their tragic merwhumpee for mermay 2024)