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jungkookstatts · 8 months

Text

As Thunder Rolls

[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters

[Word Count]: 8,296

[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)

People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.

You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.

Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.

“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.

Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.

“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.

“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.

But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.

“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.

Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.

You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.

“Down there,” you corrected him.

“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.

“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.

Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.

The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.

Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.

“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.

His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.

You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.

Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.

But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.

He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.

His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.

What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.

You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.

You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.

“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.

“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.

“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.

You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.

In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.

“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.

“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.

“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.

“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.

“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”

He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.

“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.

You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.

“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”

“Your siblings?” he asks.

“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”

He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.

“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.

“No,” you laugh.

Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.

“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”

You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.

“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”

“For?” you peck his lips again.

“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”

You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.

“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”

“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.

___

Law school used to be interesting.

Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.

Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.

These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.

Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.

You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.

A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.

“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.

With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.

“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.

“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”

Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.

“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”

“It worked,” you kiss him again.

“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”

“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”

“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.

You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.

“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.

“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.

“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”

“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.

You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.

“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.

“What?” all four of you say at once.

“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”

“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.

“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.

“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.

“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”

Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.

“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”

—

You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.

Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.

He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.

“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.

He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?

“Baby, talk to m—”

“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.

“What?”

“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”

You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.

“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.

“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”

“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.

“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.

“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.

His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.

“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.

___

Dinner is awkward. So awkward.

It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.

Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.

Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.

You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.

Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.

It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.

“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”

Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.

“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.

“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”

“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.

“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.

You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.

“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”

The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.

After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.

“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.

“Father,” you try to stop him.

“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”

Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.

“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”

You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.

“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”

“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.

“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”

“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.

He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.

“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”

“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.

Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.

He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.

“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.

“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.

There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.

“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"

“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”

“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.

Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.

You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.

“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.

“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.

“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”

“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”

“It’s not enough,” he whispers.

“N-No,” you shake your head.

But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.

“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.

“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.

Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.

“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”

He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.

“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.

“Marry me,” you say it again.

He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.

“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” he denies.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”

His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.

“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.

“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”

“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”

“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”

He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.

“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.

“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”

A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.

“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”

“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”

He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.

He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.

“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.

He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.

“Where?” you follow him.

“My place,” he looks back at you.

You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.

You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.

His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.

The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.

“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.

You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.

Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.

“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.

“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.

The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.

You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.

You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.

With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.

You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.

He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.

“Please, Tae,” you allow him.

He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.

You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.

But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.

It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.

“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.

He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.

“Tae?” you cup his cheek.

He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.

With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.

Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.

Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.

It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.

Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.

“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.

Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.

“Yes,” you nod.

You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.

“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.

“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.

“A little,” you admit with a small smile.

“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.

“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.

He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”

His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.

“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.

“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.

He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”

“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.

“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.

“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”

You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.

“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.

His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.

He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.

“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.

He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”

He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.

“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he raises his own.

“Will you?”

“Will I…?”

“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”

“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.

“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”

You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.

“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.

___

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

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talesofesther · 1 year

Text

I told the moon about you

Wednesday Addams x OC/Reader

Summary: Wednesday finds herself enchanted by the black wolf who always watches her play the cello in the dead of night.

A/N: This was written for a request sent by @roleplayfandom and I combined it with an idea of mine that I've had for a while, hope you don't mind and can still enjoy it. Arguably one of the most important stories I've written, because this oc has been my baby for so long, and I'm so happy to finally have the opportunity to include her in one of my stories; just hope I was able to do her justice with this. <3

Word count: 6,4k (sorry)

Masterlist

There was a drizzle in the air, the wind carried it around easily; tiny droplets of rain landed on the strings of Wednesday's cello that shook with each note she played.

Past the thin rain and clouds, the brightness of the full moon was nothing but a faded blur, casting a silver glow over the Addams girl and serving as the only witness to her spectacle.

The strong melody traveled with the wind same as the rain did, reaching the deepest parts of Nevermore and undoubtedly waking up a few students from their slumber. It only served as incentive — Wednesday could feel the burn on her fingertips as her song reached its momentum. The pain was welcomed, embraced.

When she released the strings, a soft sigh was let out as well. She blinked up at the moon above her, silently thanking it for its loyalty in keeping her most vulnerable moments a secret.

With uncanny delicacy, Wednesday lowered her cello, closing the case with a soft click.

The rain looked like it was starting to pick up, bigger droplets started to kiss Wednesday's cheeks, making their way down to her chin. The sky was darkening, with the moon fighting for a chance at a last goodbye to the one responsible for her favorite lullabies.

Wednesday walked up to the railings, her hands leaning against the wet concrete there. Save for the howling wind, it was strangely quiet.

But there was something different with today. Wednesday could feel it. She could feel the weight of a mysterious presence nearby.

As expected, her instincts never failed. It was dark, pitch black, the shape of trees blending together with one another in the distance.

But in the middle of the darkness, a pair of caramel eyes were spotted. They belonged to what appeared to be a black wolf; big in its size, ears pointy and tail long, fur a little spiked as it glinted from the raindrops that fell on it, almost resembling a starry night sky. It was just sitting there, on the grass of the gardens outside. Its golden eyes fixed intently all the way up to the balcony where Wednesday was standing.

The Addams girl expressed no reaction other than angling her chin up with furrowed brows, a dare; and the wolf understood, because it slowly stood up, its ears resting back against its head before it trotted out of sight and into the woods.

Wednesday remained under the rain until she could feel the wetness of it seeping into her clothes. Her hands held onto the railings tightly.

Turns out the moon wasn't the only witness tonight.

—

Those same golden eyes followed Wednesday in her dreams, and she woke up frustrated for not knowing who they belonged to.

Was it just a wild animal passing by or a student braving the woods past curfew?

The thought of the wolf being a student seemed… unlikely, because it looked much different from Enid when compared to her 'wolfed out' form. The black wolf was simply that, a wolf — albeit a tad bigger. Yet Wednesday didn't discard the possibility of it being someone. Someone who was watching her.

She tried pushing the thought out of her mind during the day for the sake of her grades.

"Miss Addams?"

Wednesday snapped her head up, only to see her anatomy teacher and the whole entirety of the class with their heads turned her way, eyes expectant as they waited for something to happen.

A scowl came to Wednesday's face at the unwanted attention. She rested both hands on her table, briefly realizing that the board had three extra paragraphs of lessons written on it that weren't in her notebook yet.

"I made you a question," the teacher continued, one of her hands coming to rest on her waist, "for how long can a gorgon stone a person?"

Wednesday gulped, her lips hovering open as she searched her mind for the useless information yet came empty-handed.

The teacher was annoying, one of the least liked by the Addams girl. She was old and wore long and colorful skirts, with obnoxiously large glasses resting atop her nose.

"It depends on the gorgon," a familiar voice suddenly said, "but usually from two to four hours."

Wednesday glanced beside her to where the owner of said voice sat, and was met with a smirk being directed at her. She huffed in annoyance, visibly rolling her eyes.

You had transferred to Nevermore a little over two months ago — adorning a pair of dark sunglasses you never took off and dressed in all black, save for the light pink pendant of your necklace — instantly getting into Wednesday's nerves the moment you stepped foot into the school and called her 'sweetheart'.

"Very well." The teacher looked between you and Wednesday, not entirely pleased that Wednesday wasn't the one who answered but deciding to let it pass, and turned around to write on the board again.

Wednesday didn't know what your deal was, no one did. No one knew who your family was, what were your abilities, or the reason you enrolled in Nevermore; not even Enid knew, and she was the gossip queen. Despite the ever-present sunglasses, one thing Wednesday knew for a fact was that you weren't a vampire, just by the way you scrunched your nose at the mere sight of blood; but that's about everything she knows so far.

Too smug for your own good, you leaned back on your chair. Wednesday could feel your gaze roaming up and down her body, before you said, quietly; "you're welcome-"

There was sunlight coming through the dusty windows. Wednesday could see her reflection in your glasses. "Shut up."

"Sweetheart," you finished with a grin.

The pencil that was thrown in your direction missed you only by an inch.

—

When Wednesday walked out onto the balcony of her dorm the next night, the wolf was already there.

She got a little taken aback by it, halting in her steps and gripping tighter onto the case of her cello. Wednesday immediately discarded the possibility of it being a coincidence or just a wild animal passing by. The wolf was there for her.

Those caramel eyes held a staring contest with Wednesday, and they eventually won. Satisfied, the wolf then lay down on the grass… and waited.

Long beats passed by until Wednesday finally sat down on her chair and adjusted her cello to be played. Her movements slow and calculated, all too aware of the heavy stare on her.

The moon was bright in the night sky, and Wednesday briefly glanced up at it, partly searching for some kind of reassurance but only finding that it wasn't a night of full moon.

When her gaze found the wolf again, she saw it looking up at the moon as well. The sharp silhouette of its muzzle being highlighted by the silver glow, fur flowing like silk with the wind.

Wolves sing for the moon, maybe that's why this one took a liking to the Addams girl.

There was hesitance on the way Wednesday's fingers hovered over the strings. Save for the occasional twitch of its tail, the wolf was unmoving on the grass, patiently watching.

Wednesday could tell the wolf to leave again, part of her knew it would obey. She didn't. She only closed her eyes, and started playing.

—

The next day, Wednesday made a trip to the school's library. She dug up every single book about werewolves and lycanthropy that she could find — some of them old, pages fragile to the touch and covered in a thick layer of dust.

The place was mostly deserted as per usual, and Wednesday saw no harm in staying. A table waited for her in the middle of the tall bookshelves, the only one hidden from sunlight.

She would be lying if she said she wasn't at least a little thrilled at the prospect of a new mystery. Things have been dull at school without an evil pilgrim trying to destroy it.

Though she was able to read in peaceful silence for all of ten minutes.

"What's with the sudden interest in furs?"

A heavy sigh left Wednesday's lips when she heard your voice. She sat straighter on her chair and chose to ignore you, pointedly turning the page of her book and focusing on it.

You hopped up on the table, sitting there cross-legged so you could face Wednesday, "you know your roommate is one, right? I bet she'd be happy to answer your questions."

See, there's a reason why Wednesday is bothered by your presence. Every time you're near, every time she can hear nothing but your voice or feel nothing but the warmth radiating from your body; Wednesday's little black heart gains a burst of color that should never exist, it picks up a faster rhythm and makes her skin crawl uncomfortably. It's a feeling that's been there once before, fleetingly, much smaller than it is now. But she's no stranger to what comes with it.

"I don't remember asking for your advice," Wednesday said, still refusing to look at you, her bangs hiding her eyes from you.

"Ouch," you mumbled, leaning back on your hands, "was just trying to help."

No one else but you could make Wednesday feel the slightest bit of remorse for snapping. And it's not like she paid attention to the last three lines she just read in the book anyway. Begrudgingly, Wednesday glanced up at you, and the moment her eyes found you, she knew it'd be a whole challenge in itself to look away again; the dim golden light of the table lamp framed your profile and the way your hair fell over your shoulder — for a second, it reminded Wednesday of her wolf.

Her wolf. The thought jolted her back to reality and she cleared her throat, heat rising to her cheeks as if you'd be able to read her thoughts.

"When are you gonna stop chasing after me like a lost puppy?" Wednesday didn't sound half as confident as she should for those words.

You raised an eyebrow at that, almost as if you wanted to be challenged. You leaned forward, bracing your elbows on your knees, so you could cast over every twitch on Wednesday's expression, your personal space shy of mingling with hers. "When you ask me to," you whispered.

The air felt electric, there was something enticing about the way you refused to back down sometimes. Wednesday felt the hair at the back of her neck rising with a shiver. If looks could kill, you'd be six feet under already — or at least fighting for air between her and this damn table. Wednesday couldn't decide which outcome she liked best.

Wood scratched against the floor as she suddenly pulled back the chair beside hers; "sit down properly, stay quiet," without looking at you, she shoved one of the books in your direction, "we're looking for a werewolf who can transform without a full moon."

—

Nothing. There was nothing in any of the books.

Wednesday walked back to her dorm without having learned a single thing. None of the books in the school had anything remotely close to the creature she saw the past two nights. Frustration was eating at her insides because she was running out of leads to follow, a dead end steadily approaching.

She went up the stairs of Ophelia Hall in a haste, pushing the door to her room out of the way and causing a loud thump that got Enid jumping on her bed, almost throwing her cell phone to Wednesday's side of the room.

"Jesus Wednesday, what did the door do to you?" Enid grumbled, sitting up on her bed.

Wednesday didn't respond, she threw her black backpack by the feet of her bed and came to stand in front of Enid. "What do you know of werewolves that can transform without a full moon?"

Slowly, a frown came to Enid's features. She turned off her phone when Wednesday kept glaring at it. "Nothing? Werewolves don't usually change without a full moon," Enid explained, confusion evident in her tone.

"And what if they did?"

"Then they're most likely not a werewolf."

Wednesday clenched her jaw in annoyance, she tugged at the tie around her neck, taking it off and messing up her hair in the process.

"Uh- my mother used to tell me about people who could shift into wolves at will, when I was younger," Enid kept going, wondering if that's what Wednesday was after.

The tie fell to her feet and Wednesday came to sit beside Enid; "tell me."

"Well, I don't know much about it, just that they're technically not werewolves. At least not like me," Enid shrugged, her colorful nails tapping her knee as she searched her brain for the stories she heard as a kid. "Oh, people used to call them hellhounds… pretty creepy if you ask me," she grimaced momentarily, "because they could change form whenever they pleased, and their… looks didn't help either, it made others scared of them. Most of the hellhounds succumbed to the fame and lived up to the name back in the 1850s I think, from what I know."

Wednesday narrowed her eyes, "lived up to the name?"

"Killers," Enid gulped, "or hunters, as they'd call it. My mother always told me they were no good, so I guess the bad rep still follows," she shrugged, "maybe that's why no one has seen one for the past twenty years or so."

—

Wednesday didn't sleep that night. She kept staring at her ceiling and going over everything that Enid had told her. And the only other thought on her mind was you. It was inevitable, too fitting for it to be a coincidence.

Every time she's seen that wolf she felt the exact same tug on her heart that you so inconveniently brought. It couldn't be a coincidence.

For a week straight, Wednesday waited for the wolf to appear every night so she could start playing her cello. And every night without fail, the wolf was there; same place, same time. It would lay down, watch her, and then leave.

—

On the tenth night, Wednesday wasn't on the balcony of her dorm. She decided to break the pattern.

There was no moon in the sky tonight, it almost looked like a storm was brewing. The air was frigid outside, the grass already coated with a thin layer of ice. Wednesday enjoyed the cold, but even she was reprimanding herself for having only one coat on.

Glancing down at her phone, Wednesday saw that it was already five minutes past the usual time the wolf showed up. She wondered if it saw the empty balcony and left. Or maybe it wasn't going to show up at all tonight. She felt strangely disappointed at the thought.

A twig snapped behind Wednesday, causing her to hastily turn around with a gasp lingering on her tongue. The trees stood tall in front of her, creating a blanket of pure darkness between them, nothing could be seen. Nothing, except a pair of golden eyes. For a moment, they looked like they were floating on nothing, intently watching the girl in front of them as if she was prey.

For several beats, Wednesday waited. And then, one paw stepped out of the woods and into the grass, causing a chill to run down her back — not from fear, at least not only fear.

The name hellhound has never seemed more fitting. One paw in front of the other, white air huffing from its nose with each breath, fiery eyes, and fur as black as the night. It was almost as if darkness became alive.

Admittedly, it was bewitching.

The wolf, even on all fours, was almost as tall as Wednesday; and still, it kept its distance. If she didn't know any better, Wednesday would say it was afraid of her.

The night was suddenly calm, with not a single soul around to witness. Wednesday had come all the way down here tonight to put an end to things, discover who this wolf was and the reason behind all this… stalking?

Yet any words had died on her tongue and she found herself taking a step closer. The moment felt strangely delicate. When the wolf didn't move, she took two more steps.

Wednesday was reaching out before realizing it. The wolf's ears twitched, caramel eyes following her every move until her hand was barely grazing the dark fur. It was silky, engulfing her hand in a blanket of darkness as it sunk into the wolf's cheek.

Wednesday didn't dare breathe, trapped in a moment that felt unreal. But her attention was soon caught by a glint of color, dangling from the wolf's neck.

The wolf backed away as soon as Wednesday tried to take a closer look, bright eyes looking at her one last time before it bolted away into the woods.

—

The next night, her wolf didn't show up. And Wednesday sat on the balcony of her dorm in silence, waiting for something she knew wouldn't happen. She didn't play. Loneliness clawed at her heart.

A loneliness that shouldn't be there, but it was.

Wednesday found herself slipping away when the moon was highest in the sky, her bare feet feeling the cold of the wooden floor as she walked the empty hallways of Ophelia Hall. Maybe a walk out in the cold would take her mind of off foolish matters.

She walked until she eventually reached the main doors that led outside, stopping short of crossing the threshold. There was a figure sitting on the grass just ahead, cross-legged and looking up at the moon.

Wednesday would recognize you anywhere. She wondered why, for a fleeting second. "What are you doing?"

You tensed when you heard her voice. You had heard her coming, you heard the soft pattern of her steps down the stairs. You just weren't expecting her to talk. You didn't turn around to face her when you spoke; "admiring the moon."

Subconsciously, Wednesday's gaze shifted to the natural satellite in the sky, before settling back on you. She could barely make out the silhouette of your nose and cheeks, but she could tell you were smiling. Foolish. She thought to herself.

Why would you look at the moon as if it held your heart's affection?

Why would look at the moon like that, when Wednesday was standing right there?

The Addams girl let out an indignant scoff at her own inner thought, reprimanding herself for even coming up with it. She couldn't possibly be feeling jealous of a floating rock.

"What are you doing up?" You eventually asked, your voice gentle into the night.

If you turned around, you'd see Wednesday chewing at the inside of her cheek as she tried to chase away the mess of feelings swimming in her stomach. You'd see her take half a step toward you before deciding against it, and instead rushing back inside without giving you an answer.

But you didn't need one. Part of you already knew why she was there. It was the same for you, and it was bittersweet that you ended up meeting in the middle anyway, even if for a moment. Part of you wanted to run after her and just tell her.

—

You weren't sure why you did it.

On the first night, it was mere curiosity. You could remember the coldness of the grass beneath your paws, announcing the inevitable arrival of winter. You could remember the howling wind, causing your ears to twitch as the fur there felt sensitive to the force of it. You could remember the first drops of rain hitting your nose as you walked and how that's when you heard the first note of her song.

You followed it easily, soon finding yourself in the gardens that her balcony overlooked. And even seeing her all the way from down there, she was nothing short of entrancing. It was like you could feel her emotions through the music.

You never meant for Wednesday to see you though, even if all she'd see was a black wolf. But it happened, and yet you kept coming back, night after night; you couldn't help yourself. You started missing her. Because listening to her play felt like an escape from your unfortunate reality. It put you at ease.

But you should've known Wednesday would not settle for so little, you should've known from the moment you found her in the library, already digging up every last bit of information on anything regarding werewolves. You should've stopped then.

You didn't. Instead, you allowed her even closer, close enough to touch. On that night, part of you knew she'd already figured it all out.

—

It was a gray day outside. Fitting, you thought to yourself; as it was also your most dreaded day of the year. There was no more dodging it, you could fake sickness or an injury only so many times until it gets too obvious.

From your dorm's window, you could already see the familiar car pulling up in the parking lot. There was a bitter taste on your tongue, a suffocating feeling weighing down on your chest for what was to come. It felt like drowning.

It's tradition. That was what your father always told you. It's keeping the memory of our ancestors alive. As if they were anything worth remembering.

You couldn't care less. Part of you wanted to yell at him to stop living in the past, but you'd probably lose your tongue for that. Literally. He had called you yesterday to let you know he'd be coming, as if you weren't stressing over it for a whole week already.

There was a chilly air outside, you could feel it even before walking out the doors that led to the quad; and it was right as you were making your way out, that she bumped into you. A quiet grunt left her lips at the impact, and she only didn't fall to the ground because your hands steadied her; your hold warm on her waist, keeping her body the closer she's ever been to you.

Now, you never intended to fall for the resident Addams of the school. It just happened. Maybe it was your incredible bad luck; or those dark eyes that sometimes put the midnight sky to shame with their beauty. The teasing came with the package of your growing feelings for her, it was your natural defense mechanism whenever your heartbeat skyrocketed at the mere smell of her perfume. Though you could swear that, sometimes, you managed to get her cheeks a tad rosier than normal. It got you wondering if it was wishful thinking to consider the small possibility of her returning your affections.

"You good?" You asked, subconsciously squeezing her waist.

Wednesday stumbled back when she realized that if she leaned forward just a tad more it would result in her nose brushing yours. She blinked multiple times to focus back on you, yet the first thing her eyes found was the light pink pendant of your necklace, the very same she saw on the wolf the other night.

For someone who's always so hard to read, she let the facade slip pretty easily this time. Wednesday's features did something complicated, as if she wasn't sure what she should be feeling.

"You're my wolf," the words rolled off her tongue against her volition, her wide eyes darting from your necklace to the dark sunglasses resting on top of your nose.

An awkward chuckle escaped you. You felt a lot more timid than you thought you would, "what?"

Wednesday clenched her jaw, she felt anger but wasn't sure towards what; "you're the wolf I see every night, aren't you?"

Your lips hovered yet no words came out, you took a step away from her. If it where any other time, you'd be happy to bounce arguments off of her until inevitably confirming her idea; but her timing wasn't ideal, "W-Wednesday, now is not a good time-"

"Why did you hide it-"

"What part of 'hurry up' did you not understand?" A gruff voice interrupted both you and Wednesday. You only gulped and looked down at your feet, while Wednesday turned her head to see a tall man walking towards you. He wore a dark red suit and had the same golden eyes Wednesday saw on her wolf every night, though his held a much darker undertone to them. The man's gloved hand closed around your arm with a tight grip. "We don't have all day."

"I'm sorry, father," you mumbled as he dragged you away and you tried to keep up with his steps. You turned around to give Wednesday a last tight-lipped smile, "see you later, Wednesday."

—

The sun was nowhere to be seen when your father dropped you back at school again.

You had brushed your teeth three times already, but it still felt like the taste lingered, making you nauseous.

Part of you was grateful to have come back late, Nevermore's hallways were mostly empty at this hour already so you didn't have to explain your looks. It's not like you couldn't have freshened up at your family's cabin, you just didn't want to stay a minute longer than necessary.

So you hurried into the first bathroom you found, not really considering the fact it was a communal one and anyone could walk in on you.

—

Wednesday wouldn't call herself obsessive, more like committed. She had pending matters with you, and she was going to get to the bottom of them.

So of course she kept an eye out for when you'd return to school. She saw the car drop you off by the gates, following after you as soon as you walked inside.

When Wednesday pushed open the bathroom door, you were standing in front of the mirror, damp paper towels in your hand as you tried to clean a rather nasty cut on your cheek. Your sunglasses rested atop the sink, giving Wednesday a clear view of your eyes; they were a shade of caramel she was all too familiar with, the same ones that have been keeping her company at night.

You tensed up when you noticed her, your hand freezing midair as you were about to throw the paper into the trash can.

There was a silence that stretched uncomfortably as none of you seemed to know what to do next. You were shifting on your stance, breathing unsteadily and Wednesday feared you might run away, again.

She took a single step in your direction and asked the one thing she came for; "why have you been stalking me?"

As if breaking from a trance, you looked down and away from her; allowing your hair to fall from behind your ear and hide your profile. "I wasn't stalking you."

"What would you call standing outside my window at late hours of the night only to watch me play the cello?" Wednesday raised her eyebrow pointedly.

You chuckled humourlessly, "now you make me seem like a creep." You felt small under her piercing gaze, embarrassment twirling inside your stomach. Sure, when she said it like that, it sounded weird. But you were just enjoying good music, right?

You slowly turned around to face her, your hands gripping tightly onto the sink's edge behind you. "You never told me to leave," you said quietly.

Any words Wednesday might have thought of died on her tongue. She felt uncharacteristically shy knowing that it was you who'd been witnessing her late-night lullabies. Yet she was also glad that it was you, and not someone else.

You shrugged weakly, focusing your gaze on your feet, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just- I heard you one night and-" you glanced up at her with a bittersweet smile, fragility still lingering on your heart and making your vision blur over. Even under the cheap artificial light of the bathroom, she was the most beautiful person you'd ever seen; alabaster skin contrasting with soft dark hair, sharp eyes, and burgundy lips — she had your heart on a leash.

"And I was blown away," you continued quietly as your feelings escaped you, "it was like I could feel what you were feeling through the music, and it was so freeing… I had to come back to it."

There was a distant ache in Wednesday's lungs, because she refused to breathe. Her heart was thundering against her ribcage as she took in each of your words. No one has ever made her feel as if she was a piece of art, worthy of a display at the most renowned museum, like you just did.

"I'm sorry if it seemed like I was stalking you," you breathed.

"Why keep it a secret?" She asked then.

Her sudden gentleness startled you. You've never heard her voice so soft. "I feared you might hate me." It went beyond just late-night encounters with a wolf Wednesday didn't know was you; you feared she'd hate what you could turn into; you feared she might see you as the thing you least want to be if she ever found out what you try to hide behind sunglasses and a snarky attitude.

It's because of the way your voice breaks at the end, that Wednesday finally looks at you. And she sees the tiny splatters of blood on your cheek, a cut running from your lip to near your ear, scrapes and bruises in your hands — you're nothing short of a mess.

And you weren't hers. Wednesday knew you weren't hers to worry about, to care for, to protect. Yet she had the annoying urge to do it all anyway.

She wordlessly closed the distance between you, the sound of her boots loud against the bathroom tiles. Taking a few paper towels, Wednesday dampened their edge under the running water of the sink. She hesitated before coming closer, it felt like crossing a line, walking down a road with no way back. Her eyes never left you as she came to stand in front of you.

Your grip on the sink's edge was bruising, knuckles white. You were so quiet, so on edge, so shaky; your eyes had a darkness around them, your lips quivering. It felt all wrong. Wednesday hated seeing you like this, without your usual light.

She raised her hand slowly, stopping short of reaching your cheek, "may I?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth rushing to your heart at the delicacy you didn't know she was capable of. A barrier had fallen between you. When you leaned against her touch, Wednesday started gently cleaning the few places still stained with blood on your skin.

"Did he do this to you?" Wednesday couldn't hold the question back anymore. A different kind of anger bubbled in her chest — one that was mixed with an unusual sense of protectiveness. "Your father?"

"Not him," you choked out, unable to look her in the eyes — not wanting to, "not directly."

Wednesday frowned at that, her eyes tried to chase after yours but you avoided her.

"He makes me do it." A tear rolled down your cheek, you bit into your lip to contain a sob, "he always makes me do it."

Wednesday would never dare call herself an empathetic person, but her chest clenched in pain to see you hurt. One of your tears fell on her thumb that rested on your cheek, and she wanted to take all the pain to herself.

"But I hate it, Wednesday," you told her fiercely, desperate for her to believe you, a new batch of tears coming to your eyes when you finally looked up at her, "I hate the killing."

The moon was high in the sky when Wednesday walked out of the bathroom, with you close by her side. The darkness of the night easily hid the way her hand was holding onto yours.

And as you walked through the gardens together, Wednesday could feel the shift in the air. You had told her about the 'stupid tradition', how your family gets together once a year for the hunt, and how you felt dirty, disgusted at the feeling of sinking your canines into the white fur of the rabbit. Yet they still make you do it.

The door to her dorm came before yours. You stopped in front of it with her, nothing but the dim yellow light hanging from the ceiling to make you company. The moment felt more intimate than it should be. Wednesday didn't look like the girl who threw pencils at you in class — there was a faint blush to her cheeks and her pupils were blown wide — she looked like someone you could love.

"Why don't you ever take it off?" Wednesday asked, shooting a brief glance at the necklace hanging from your neck.

You take the light pink pendant between your fingers, tracing the nooks and crannies in it, "it was my mom's," you said softly, "she was the only person who ever told me I didn't need to be what others said I was. That I didn't have to carry the sins of my forbearers."

Wednesday nodded softly, glancing up at you before she turned around. Her hand left yours and she instantly missed the warmth there, it made her think of how lonely the nights started to feel when her wolf wasn't there.

Her fingers hesitated on the doorknob, she looked at you from over her shoulder, "if you wish to see me play, stop lurking around," she pushed the words out quickly, "Enid is out until nine most nights."

And with that, Wednesday closed the door in your face, not giving you an opportunity to ask about the abrupt invitation.

On what was usually the worst day of the year for you, Wednesday managed to make you go to sleep with a smile.

—

There was suddenly an unspoken thing in the air.

Wednesday went about her day as per usual, following her routine precisely. But there was something making her feel as if spiders were crawling around inside her stomach; it happened each time she walked into a room hoping to find you there, each time she'd feel you looking her way and doing a poor job of pretending otherwise, each time she found herself checking the time on the clock to see how long was left for the sun to set, and especially, each time Enid pointed out her looking at you.

When night came, Wednesday had her cello already set up outside, and she sat on her bed with her eyes fixed on the door. She felt a little silly, waiting on you like this even if you hadn't given her the slightest hint you'd be coming at all.

But she hoped you would.

It was two minutes past the usual time she'd go out to play her songs, that Wednesday heard three knocks on her door. She opened it to reveal you on the other side, looking as nervous as she felt.

"Hi," you greeted with an awkward smile.

"Hello," she bit back a smile of her own.

You followed after her when Wednesday quietly made her way outside. You felt a little out of place, up here instead of down there on the grass. But when Wednesday played the first note on her cello, it was as if the whole rest of the world went quiet, and it was just you and her.

You figured you'd never be able to settle on watching her from a distance anymore. Not when you'd just had a taste of listening to her music so loud and clear, of watching her up close, following each small movement of her fingers on the strings and the twitches on her expression as she immersed herself in the melody. She captivated you in a way no other soul ever did.

Wednesday had her eyes closed the whole time, she knew she'd stumble on the notes if she blinked them open and saw the way you were looking at her — she could feel it though, the weight of your gaze; it was enough.

Only when the last note stretched out, that she did look back at you. And sure enough, the song ended with abruptness as she lost her focus.

Because Wednesday realized that you were looking at her the same way you looked at the moon. Maybe you always have been, for all of those nights you laid outside in the cold only to watch her play. She wondered for a moment if that is what love looked like.

And maybe that's the reason why, before even getting up, she decided she'd take that gamble.

"You are so amazing," you breathed out, your lips hovering as you gestured around in search of words good enough to describe your feelings.

Wednesday put her cello aside, getting up from her chair to take the few steps that separated you.

"I mean, every time that I hear you play I'm just-" you choked on your words, your eyes finding hers when you realized that with each beat of your frantic heart, she was coming closer, closer.

"I'm just in love," you told her in nothing but a whisper.

Wednesday had taken a hold of your jacket, and she halted only for a second when the word love left your lips. She didn't say it, but the way she was looking at you with the softest of eyes held a lot of love too.

The kiss she pulled you into might have been long overdue, given both of your eagerness. You were quick to grasp her waist and pull her body as close to yours as humanly possible.

Wednesday cupped your cheeks, holding you in place as her nose bumped yours and she gave a gentle nip on your lower lip.

She kept her lips on yours until her lungs screamed for air, pulling away slowly, feeling each one of your deep breaths grazing her lips. Wednesday felt your nails gently pressing against her spine, she felt you trace a path from her jaw to right below her ear where you chose to place a lingering kiss.

And she knew, right then and there, that she'd never be able to look up at the moon again and not think of her wolf.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

A/N: This is a storyline I'm definitely willing to expand, so if you have any requests regarding Wednesday and her wolf, feel free to send them in.

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @jjsmaybank20 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica @wednesdays-woes @vorsdany @v1ci0us @the-nightshades-library @tundra1029 @aahdiieb @greyscxle-is-taken

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday addams x fem!reader #wednesday addams #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #wednesdayedit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #wednesday addams fanfic #jenna ortega #wednesday x reader #my story #jenna ortega x reader

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faithfulren · 3 months

Text

rainy day

you and izuku get caught in the rain and take shelter together, leading to intimate conversations.

----

the school day had ended, and you found yourself walking home with izuku midoriya, as you often did. the sky had been clear all day, so neither of you had thought to bring an umbrella. however, as luck would have it, dark clouds rolled in quickly, and before you knew it, raindrops began to fall.

"uh-oh," you murmured, looking up at the sky. "i think we’re in for a downpour."

izuku glanced up, his eyes wide with concern. "we should find some shelter," he suggested, already scanning the area. he spotted a small, empty bus stop a little ways ahead and pointed it out. "over there!"

you both sprinted toward the bus stop, laughing as the rain started to pour more heavily. by the time you reached the shelter, you were both thoroughly soaked, your clothes clinging to your skin and water dripping from your hair.

"well, this is quite the adventure," you said, trying to wring out your shirt. izuku chuckled, running a hand through his wet hair.

"yeah, i guess we should have checked the weather forecast," he replied, shaking his head slightly.

the bus stop was small, and you found yourselves standing close together to stay under the shelter’s limited cover. despite the chilly rain, you felt a warmth spread through you as you stood next to izuku, his presence comforting and reassuring.

"do you think it’ll stop soon?" you asked, glancing at the rain falling in heavy sheets around you.

izuku shrugged, his green eyes thoughtful. "it might take a while. but at least we’re not getting any wetter."

you both fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the rhythmic patter of the rain. the world outside the shelter seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your little cocoon of safety.

"you know," izuku said softly, breaking the silence, "i actually like the rain. it’s kind of calming."

you turned to look at him, surprised. "really? i always thought it was kind of inconvenient. but I guess it does have a peaceful quality to it."

izuku smiled, his eyes meeting yours. "yeah. and it gives us moments like this, where we can just… be together."

your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. you'd always admired izuku’s kindness and determination, and moments like this made you realize just how much he meant to you.

"yeah," you agreed, your voice soft. "i like moments like this too."

izuku’s smile grew, and he looked down, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink. "i'm glad," he said quietly. "i… i really enjoy spending time with you."

you felt a flutter in your chest, the sincerity in his voice making your heart race. "i enjoy spending time with you too, izuku."

he looked up at you, his eyes shining with a mix of hope and nervousness. "you do?"

you nodded, stepping a little closer. "yeah, i do. you’re always so kind and supportive. you make me feel… special."

izuku’s eyes widened, and he swallowed hard. "you’re special to me too," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "i… i’ve liked you for a while now."

your breath caught in your throat at his confession, and you felt your heart swell with emotion. "izuku, i've liked you too," you said, your voice trembling with honesty. "i was just afraid to tell you."

a look of relief and joy spread across izuku’s face, and he took your hand in his, his grip warm and reassuring despite the chill of the rain. "i’m so glad you told me," he said, his voice filled with emotion.

you smiled, feeling a sense of happiness and contentment wash over you. "me too."

as the rain continued to fall around you, you stood there, hand in hand, sharing a moment of intimate connection. the world outside might have been cold and wet, but in that small bus stop, you found warmth and comfort in each other, knowing that this was just the beginning of something wonderful.

#anime #mha #bnha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #x reader #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #mha izuku #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #faithfulren

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justalittlegaywolf · 4 months

Text

Rainstorm

Sevika x reader

You sat by the window, your eyes darting between the raindrops streaming down the glass and the clock on the wall. The storm outside had been raging for hours, turning the streets into rivers and the sky into a dark, sea of clouds. Sevika was supposed to be home hours ago, but there had been no word from her. Not a phone call, text, hell you’d even take a letter from a pigeon at this point. Anything just to know that she was ok.

With each passing minute, your anxiety grew. You tried calling her again but the call went straight to voicemail just like the rest of your calls had. The uncertainty gnawed at you, “Where could she be” you thought to yourself

You wrapped yourself tighter in Sevika’s blanket hoping her sent would comfort you. It helped a bit but it couldn’t help your pounding heart.

The storm was relentless, the wind howling like a beast outside your small, cozy home. You paced the living room, trying to shake off the creeping dread. The rain fell harder, the sounds of its fury only amplified your worry. You glanced at the clock again; it was well past midnight now.

Tears started to well up in your eyes. What if something had happened? What if Sevika was out there, hurt, or worse? What if all those jobs Slico sent her on finally caught up to her. You couldn’t bear the thought.

You sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands, the tears flowing freely now. You felt so helpless, so lost in the storm’s fury and your own fears.

Minutes felt like hours, and you were on the verge of despair when you heard a faint knock on the door. Your heart leapt, hope mixing with the fear. You rushed to the door, flinging it open.

There stood Sevika drenched from head to toe, water dripping from her hair and clothes.

“Hey,” Sevika said, her lips curled in a little smirk. her voice light and teasing, “Miss me?”

#It’s been so long since I wrote something that other people are gonna read…so I feel like this is shitty.#I was inspired by that pic of Sevika and this is the end result… also not proof read #sevika arcane #arcane netflix #arcane league of legends #sevika #sevika x reader #sevika imagine

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fcwoso · 10 months

Text

Family dinner · Alexia Putellas

Summary: alexia's wish to stay home wasn't fulfilled but she couldn't do anything about the cuddly mood she was in, this lead to the perfect opportunity for her sister to tease her about it

Based on this request :) MASTERLIST

You were finally able to enjoy a slow morning. Alexia’s schedule didn’t really allow you two to sleep in together in the weekends, she either had a training to attend or was held busy with different meetings and appointments. So, these moments were very appreciated, waking up without an alarm, in your lovers arms. You didn’t have anything planned today and decided to see what the day would bring you.

It didn’t take long before you felt your girlfriend stir behind you, a soft sigh escaping her lips before she slowly woke up. She must’ve felt you move when you reached out to your phone to see what time it was. The sun was peeking through the curtains, and you didn’t feel like going back to sleep because you didn’t want to waste a single moment of the free day you had with Alexia. Her arms were holding you firmly to her chest in a warm embrace, one you wouldn’t mind spending a few more hours in. ‘’Good morning.’’ She mumbled against the back of your head before placing a kiss. You returned the words and rubbed your hand over hers, waiting for her to fully wake up.

‘’Did you have a good sleep?’’ The blonde asked, you decided to turn around and face her instead. Her pouty lips were the first thing your eyes fell one once you turned around in her embrace and you couldn’t refrain yourself from leaving a small peck on them. ‘’I slept great.’’ You answered, trying to keep your laughter in as you remembered Alexia’s sleep talking. ‘’Hmm, what’s so funny?’’ She tiredly asked while she stretched her free arm before resting it around your shoulder. You shook your head and chuckled, ‘’You were sleep talking last night. You said something along the lines of pass the ball, Joder! (fuck)’’. The embarrassment was visible on the blonde’s face, she was fulfilling her job as a captain even when she asleep.

You two decided to lay down for another twenty minutes or so and continued talking about random things. Alexia hinted she was in the mood for some home-made pancakes, so she then basically commanded you to make them. It was her day as she said, and she was not holding back from eating everything she had been craving for the past week. It took Alexia a lot of energy to get out of the warm bed, whining while begging you to stay next to her. To be honest, she almost succeeded in convincing you, but you stood your ground and threw the covers off of your bodies. The cold air hit your skin while you made your way over to the bathroom to begin your morning routine. Alexia scrolled on her phone while she gave you your space, deciding to get up once you were done.

You suddenly heard a noise when you walked into the kitchen, seeing you had received a notification when your phone lit up. It was Alba, Alexia’s sister, who texted you to remind you of the dinner they were hosting at her mothers home later today. One of your hands made a way to your forehead, lightly slapping it because you totally forgot about it. Alexia told you last week that you were invited, but she had only shortly mentioned it. It seems that it had slipped out of both your minds. A sigh left your lips, you knew you were going to have to drag your girlfriend to her childhood home, remembering how she kept clinging on your arm just moments ago. She was in a lazy, cuddly mood. The weather was also contributing to it, grey clouds were visible in the sky and the small raindrops that hit your window didn’t go unheard.

‘’Want me to grab the ingredients?’’ You heard the blonde ask while she came to stand by your side, a bigger hand resting on your hip. She saw you put the phone down with a frown and you quickly nodded, ‘’Yes, please.’’ Alexia made her way to the fridge to grab some things out, and saw you were busy typing away on your phone once she stood back next to you again. She saw her sisters name on the screen and got curious.

No, we didn’t forget about it! We’ll be there :)

The blonde began to think after she read the last message you sent, her brains cracking while she tried to figure out who the we is and where they were going. You saw her looking in the corner of your eye and chuckled once you saw the expression on your face. ‘’The dinner? Remember?’’ You asked while starting to prepare the pancakes. Alexia’s eyes grew wide, and she let out a groan, in a very dramatic way. ‘’No, not today. We’re staying home. Okay, bebé?’’ She continued, pleading you to say yes while she slung her arms around you before placing kisses all over your face. You attempted to shrug her off of you, shaking your head as you began to whisk the pancake batter. ‘’Ale, do you really think I’m going to say no to your sister?’’ You laughed. ‘’It’s been a while since we’ve sat together, I’ve missed them.’’ You finished. It was true, this dinner had been on the planning for ages, and you have been wanting to catch up with your girlfriends family.

Alexia huffed, lips pouted as her eyes were focused on your hands, not really being able to be frustrated with you due to the fact that you were making a nice breakfast for her. She rolled her eyes at the thought of not spending the day with you alone, cuddled up on the couch and enjoying each other’s warmth. Maybe she was being childish, she thought, but quickly shrugged the thought away when she realized it was okay to be selfish sometimes. Just like now. ‘’Oh, we need to stop by the flower shop.’’ You suddenly said, remembering the flowers Ale’s mother liked. ‘’And we need to get something for your sister as well.’’ Alexia let out a small groan, not as moody as before, but she was still upset at the change of plans. ‘’What about me?’’ She whined, while looking at you, waiting for an answer she’d be pleased with. ‘’You get your pancakes.’’

The morning went by pretty fast, and so did the rest of the day until it was time to prepare yourselves to leave for dinner. Both of you were dressed nice, but casual, knowing that you would be in the comfort of Alexia’s family home. You both got in the car, after a small complaining session of your girlfriend, and headed to buy some flowers first. Alexia decided to get a bottle of wine for her sister, so you went to another store to get that. You noticed how she was being clingier than usual, it was nothing strange, but it didn’t take you long before you realized she really wanted to stay home. A hand was rested on your thigh, frequently squeezing the flesh of your leg while the blonde held the wheel with her other hand. She gave you small glances every now and then, and hummed along the words of the song that was playing from the car speakers.

You were warmly greeted by Alexia’s family, her sister and mother had immediately engulfed you in a tight embrace and scolded the Barcelona player for arriving so late. It was just a few minutes, but you couldn’t help but laugh and nod, adding more fire to the fuel. Alexia didn’t care, though. She was too busy giving you heart eyes, a hand resting on your lower back in an attempt to keep you close to her. Alba nudged her older sister once you left their presence and followed their mother to the living room, ‘’Sis, are you okay?’’ She asked with a teasing smile on her face. ‘’I almost didn’t recognize you, where did your serious face go?’’ Alexia pushed her arm away, ‘’I don’t know what you’re talking about.’’ Was the only thing she replied before heading over to where you were seated, just like a lost puppy.

You had already taken place at the table with a drink in front of you while you waited for dinner to be served. Ale’s mother sat down momentarily to talk with you, catching up a bit before her daughters were going to storm in. And they did. Your girlfriend walked in a fast pace, her younger sister trailing behind her while keeping a laugh in. You smiled at the scene and wondered what had happened in the meantime.

Alexia returned the smile and sat down next to you, scooting her chair a bit closer to yours, leaving no space between your legs. Her sister took place in front of you and raised her eyebrows, fighting back to not say anything. You suddenly felt a warm hand hold yours, fingers intertwining under the table. You squeezed your lover’s hand before returning to the conversation you were having with Alba. Her sharp eyes noticed how the table cloth slightly moved and the sweet smile on Alexia’s face didn’t go unnoticed either. Ale had her chin propped on her free hand and her eyes were glancing at your lips, not having a clue what you were talking about because she was lost in her thoughts. The woman in front of you coughed and made your girlfriend stir at the sudden noise. They shortly made eye contact with each other, and Alexia gave her sister a stern look, shutting her up before she could make an embarrassing comment.

It didn’t take long before dinner was served, the aroma filled the room and the food that laid in front of you looked amazing. Ale’s touch had left yours a few minutes ago when she got up to wash her hands, right after you had washed yours. Alba got up at the same time and you saw the scene that you were laughing at, at the beginning of the night, unfold again. They both returned to their place while their mother filled everyone’s plate. The blonde next to you swiftly turned your way and placed a kiss on your forehead, ‘’You look so pretty, Amor.’’ Was what she mumbled, making you feel all mushy. You were a bit taken back by her openness at the dinner table but didn’t think anything of it. She was probably still in her cuddly mood.

You felt a blush creep on your cheeks when you saw Alba's gaze on you two, shaking her head at her sisters behaviour. She made a mental note to tease her sister about this, already invisioning Alexia's embarassed face and poor attempts to deny her clingy antics.

Everyone was enjoying their food and drinks, you were talking about the things that had happened since the last time you had seen each other. Alexia kept making you eat from her food, raising a fork to your mouth to taste whatever she was having. The women that were sat in front of you shared a look everytime the blonde next to you did something to get your attention. It was either offering you food, accidently nudging you with her arm or say something that would make you giggle. You noticed how Alexia's mother tried to shut her other daughter up everytime a teasing grin would grow on her face.

You were halfway done with your food and leaned back in your chair, slowly sipping on your drink. Alexia noticed your relaxed look and hesitated to make a move, having missed your touch. Her mother and sister were discussing something, so she took her chance. The blonde quickly wiped her lips clean with a paper towel once she saw your hand make its way to your fork, returning back to eat. She glanced at you before giving you a soft smile and leaned in to hold your face in her palm, kissing the tip of your nose before moving to your lips, pecking them. Alba couldn't refrain herself anymore and put her fork down while looking at her sister and groaned, "Oh, come on. Let the poor thing eat!"

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso #woso community #fcb femení #alexia putellas #woso x reader

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leonw4nter · 9 months

Text

Is It The Look In Your Eyes Or Is It This Dancing Juice?

Husband!DI!Leon x Reader

It’s 2002 and you’re deep in the Amazon rainforest on a mission called “Operation Javier” to track down a drug lord involved with bioterrorism. It was a cold and punishing night: pouring rain, winds that you swore could tear the roof from you and Leon’s shared tent, and the deafening cracks of thunder that followed after a bright flash of lightning. An unspoken pretense of being asleep lingered in the tent but you both knew that sleep seemed impossible to have that night.

“Can’t sleep?,” you softly ask first.

“You too?,” Leon asks back.

“Yeah,” you sigh. You shift in your sleeping bag, turning over to face Leon. He laid on his back, forearm on his forehead. Your gaze followed the veins in his arm, thinking to yourself that he would look breathtaking with a rolled-up dress shirt and maybe some gel to his pretty hair.

“You’re staring,” he says after some time.

“I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, right.”

You two fell back into comfortable silence, staring at the roof of the tent that shielded you both from the harsh elements. You remembered how you adored rainy nights like these back in Raccoon City, fondly reminiscing the soft pitter-patter of raindrops against your bedroom window. You wish you still had that fondness of rain to make your current predicament feel better, even for just a little bit.

“I used to own a walkman. I loved the hell out of that thing– took it to school, the park, church– everywhere basically,” he says. A fond chuckle leaves his lips and you close your eyes, relishing in how adorable he sounded.

“I only had five songs in it but I never got tired of each one. I listened to those songs on repeat no matter the mood. On nights like these, I fell asleep listening to the songs to drown out the thunder but the walkman’s lost now. I don’t know what happened, it’s gone now. I miss him,” he finally says. He finally turns over, looking at you with what seemed like a sliver of a smile on his slightly chapped lips.

“Seems like you really loved that thing.” “Yeah, could possibly qualify as my greatest love.”

“Greatest love? Big thing to say about it.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

You proved to Leon that he’s wrong with his walkman being his greatest love because he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him ten years after this conversation. Now you’re on your shared bed in your shared home, surfing through eBay for walkmans from his time. You remembered how his blue irises served as a sky for the stars that shone when he talked about and you never thought his eyes could shine brightly for anything or anyone else but that’s where you’re wrong. After a few minutes of scrolling, you managed to find a walkman from the 80s in perfect condition and some tapes with songs you know he likes. With a few clicks, you placed the order and paid. Lucky for you, the order would arrive a day or two before his birthday. Smiling, you turn your laptop off and return it to your drawer. Leon was on the other side of the country, currently on a mission. Many times you have convinced Leon to lay back and retire but you both know that it’s easier said than done.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Hunnigan managed to get me a month-long vacation. I’m all yours for an entire month,” Leon says as he walks out of the shower, towel in hand to dry his brown locks.

“You deserve it, honey. How does a tropical getaway sound? Or would you prefer we stay at home instead,” you ask.

“I’m content with anywhere as long as it’s with you and you’re happy about it,” he says before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, his stubble tickling your skin.

You were about to say something when the doorbell rang, prompting Leon to temporarily stop drying his hair and turn his focus to the door. You excused yourself, skipping to the front door and only parting the door slightly so Leon wouldn’t see the package you got a week or two ago. You handed over the bills you were going to pay with and thanked the delivery man before walking back to Leon, the box behind your back.

“What was that for?,” Leon asked.

“Nothing,” you say as you fight back a giggle.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing to me,” Leon remarks.

“Seriously, it’s really nothing!”

“Fine. I’ll let this slide because I love you.”

“You’re the best!”

It was hard to hide the surprise from him not because he was actively trying to find out what it was but because he was home most of the time. It wasn’t like you could slip out of bed while he was sleeping and wrap his gift up, he’s a light sleeper and the crinkling of paper would wake him so the only solution you found was to send him on a grocery run. As soon as he left the door, you quickly took the walkman and the paper bag and began wrapping it. Since you still had time to spare, you decided to quickly draft a heartfelt birthday greeting and placed it inside the brown bag. Your gift was complete, ready to make Leon’s special day.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Leon had opted for a simple get-together at home, along with Chris, Claire, Jill, Rebecca, and Hunnigan. Unlike the others, Leon didn’t touch a single glass of alcohol since he’s recovering from his drinking problem and instead settled on cakes and the pasta you made. He was coming into the kitchen for another slice of cake when you walked up from behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Happy birthday, big boy,” you softly say as you press your cheek into his firm back.

“Thanks honey, I really appreciate all this,” he says with sincerity as he turns around and hugs you back.

“Save that for when I’ll give you your gift” “Oh?”

You take the brown paper bag from where you’ve hidden it and give it to him. He looks to you, silently asking permission to open it up to which you nod. He tries to guess what you could’ve gotten him, saying whatever item comes to mind. “A shaving set? New wallet? Gift card?”

“Just open it up!,” you excitedly say.

“Alright, alright!”

He opens the bag up, his hand reaching until his hands feel something and pulls it back up. His eyes widen and he nearly drops the walkman due to his surprise. He stares at you, mouth parted as all the words get stuck in his throat.

“Honey! A walkman! Oh my God, thank you so much,” he happily says. He walks over to you, pulling you in for a rib-shattering hug and rocks you side to side. He pulls away and peppers your face with kisses before settling on your warm lips, a smile pressed against your own.

He spends the rest of the evening tinkering with the walkman, proudly showing your present off to everyone in the room. You decide to busy yourself with doing the dishes, giving Leon some time by himself to relish the fact that you helped him relive his childhood.

“I’m so lucky to have them in my life, Hunnigan, you don’t understand!,” you overhear, which prompts laughter from the guests.

NOTE - Happy New Year everyone! Hope everyone's feeling great, 2024 will be your year! I don't exactly like this work but I still hope you'll enjoy it 😭 I'm tempted to write another hockeyplayer!Leon fic since I'm currently having a brainrot over him and Russ Callaghan from Wildfire. I'm also planning to make a directory post to all my fics (maybe later). I might start to post less later this week because class is starting and I've got so much tests waiting for me (wish me luck!!) That's it and Happy New Year again!!!!!

The film dividers are from @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#fluff #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #rebhfun #real ones know which song i titled this fic from

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kendyzzlewp · 5 months

Text

please, I’ve been on my knees, change the prophecy

jackson avery x fem!reader

summary: you watched in horror as the bus exploded, jackson no where to be found

type: angst - love confession - friends to lovers

The world around you seemed to slow down, each raindrop hitting your skin like a heavy weight as you watched in horror. The bus, engulfed in flames, painted a terrifying picture against the dark, rainy backdrop. Your heart pounded violently, a painful rhythm matching the chaos before you.

"Where's Jackson?" Your voice cracked with fear, desperation creeping into every syllable as you searched the chaos for him. "Torres, where's Jackson?"

Calle rushed past, her face a mask of grim determination as she shouted back, "He's right behind us!"

Your feet moved of their own accord, carrying you closer to the inferno despite the danger. "Jackson!" The name tore from your throat, a primal scream of terror and love.

But before you could reach him, Owen's strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you back with a force that matched the explosion that followed. The world seemed to explode around you, the heat searing your skin, the sound deafening as flames licked at the sky.

As you fell to the ground, the world became a blur of agony. The image of the burning bus, the screams of pain and fear, all merged into a cacophony of despair. And then, as if from a great distance, you heard it.

A gut-wrenching scream, raw with agony and loss. It took you a moment to realize that the sound was coming from you, ripped from your very soul as you watched, helpless, knowing that you were losing the person who mattered most to you.

You looked up at the sky, tears mingling with rain as you pleaded with whatever higher power might be listening. "Please," your voice was a broken whisper, "don't take him. Let it be me. Take me instead."

But the sky remained silent, offering no solace as you were left to face the devastation before you, a world shattered by flames and loss.

Through the raging flames, a silhouette emerged, barely visible amidst the inferno. It was Jackson, his figure illuminated by the flickering fire, holding a little girl close to his chest. Tears welled in your eyes as relief flooded through you, mingling with the haunting specter of what could have been.

With each faltering step, Jackson battled against the relentless blaze, his determination a beacon of hope in the darkness. You watched, heart in your throat, as he drew nearer, the flames licking dangerously close to his weary frame.

As he finally reached you, his breaths ragged and labored, he gently passed the trembling child into her mothers arms. She clung to her desperately, her tiny fingers digging into her skin, seeking solace from the nightmare that surrounded her.

With tear-filled eyes, you looked up at Jackson, his face streaked with ash and exhaustion. "You're an idiot," you whispered, the words a fragile prayer of gratitude.

He nodded weakly, a flicker of a smile ghosting across his soot-stained lips. "I know," he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper.

Fury surged within you, mingling with the overwhelming relief as you looked up at Jackson, his face etched with exhaustion and soot.

"You can't just do that!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear. "Do you have any idea what would have happened if you didn't make it out of there?"

Jackson's brow furrowed in confusion, his gaze searching yours for understanding. "I... I needed to save her," he murmured, his voice strained with emotion.

“And what about me?" Your voice cracked with emotion as tears spilled down your cheeks. "What would have happened to me if you had died in there?"

For a moment, Jackson seemed at a loss for words, his eyes wide with realization. And then, as if a dam had burst within him, he reached out to you, his fingers brushing against your tear-stained cheek.

"I... I didn't think," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I didn't realize..."

"You idiot," you breathed, your voice softening with love and exasperation. "I love you, you moron."

And as you melted into each other's arms, surrounded by the remnants of the devastation, you knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, you would face them together, bound by a love that could withstand even the fiercest flames.

#jackson avery #jackson avery x reader #greys anatomy #greys anatomy x reader #writeblr #oneshot #drabble #greys anatomy drabble #greys anatomy fanfiction #jesse williams #april kepner

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aphroditelovesu · 4 months

Text

The Lost Queen - XIV

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 3,040.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog, @silmawensgarden, @elvinapandra.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 14

It had suddenly started raining. A good omen, you thought, but when you heard the screams outside your tent you realized that it wasn't for the Persians.

As the raindrops fell from the sky, you moved restlessly inside your tent in the Persian war camp. Your anxiety and stress levels were high and you were afraid that this could affect your pregnancy.

The conversation with Darius and Bessus — you shuddered just remembering the last man, — hadn't been productive and you feared what that might mean. By now Alexander had probably already been notified of your disappearance and was going crazy.

Nothing good would come of Alexander's anger. You placed your hand on your stomach, on your not-yet-growing belly, and took a deep breath. You needed to calm down, all this stress wouldn't do you any good, it would only make you more anxious.

"Excuse me." You were startled when you heard a low voice with a strong Persian accent next to you. You looked at the owner of the voice and relaxed when you saw that it was Bagoas, the eunuch. His footsteps — was that him? You weren't sure — were really silent.

Darius had assigned this eunuch to you as your servant, in this case, personal slave, during your time here. Bagoas would be perfect to satisfy your wishes, the King had said. You felt like slapping him. You didn't need a slave and you didn't want one. Even in Alexander's camp you refused to keep slaves but rather free servants to serve you.

You nodded, waiting for him to continue talking. Bagoas kept his gaze down, not daring to look at your face. He was a slave, you remembered. And like all slaves he was trained to be submissive, not to look free people in the eye.

Your heart ached remembering this, remembering that slavery was common and accepted. That what they did to Bagoas and many others was natural.

Bagoas spoke softly, "Do you need anything?" His voice had a very strong Persian accent but you understood him perfectly.

You shook your head, "No thanks, Bagoas. I'm fine."

Bagoas nodded and silently moved to leave, until you called out to him.

"Bagoas?" You called his name, "I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's okay with you."

Not that he had a choice, you mentally cursed yourself.

Bagoas nodded slowly and stood in front of you. You pointed to a chair next to you, silently telling him to sit down. Bagoas did as he was told.

''You...'' You started to say, but realized you didn’t know what you really wanted to say. Realizing this, you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Bagoas, in turn, remained quiet.

You cleared your throat and tried again, ''Would you like some wine or water?''

Bagoas blinked slowly at your request, clearly surprised. He nodded slowly after a few minutes of being completely still. You smiled and took the pitcher of wine and poured it into a cup for him, who hesitantly accepted the cup.

"It's not poisoned." You joked softly, trying to lighten the mood.

Bagoas glanced at you lightly and you could see something amusing sparkle in the eunuch's dark eyes. He raised the cup to his lips and took a sip of wine, his eyes fixed on his feet. You smiled lightly and drank some water.

"Would you like something to eat, Bagoas?" You asked, pointing to a silver tray that held cheese, bread, and a piece of honey cake. Bagoas looked at the tray and shook his head.

You frowned. Bagoas was thin, very thin.

"Are you sure? The honey cake is delicious." You tried again but the eunuch just denied it.

"I thank you but no, your Majesty." Bagoas said, his eyes never meeting yours.

"I understood." You sighed and decided there was no reason to say anything, "You're dismissed then."

Bagoas placed the cup on the small table and bowed gracefully to you and silent as he had entered, he left.

You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your sore neck. You closed your eyes but opened them quickly when the tent flap was lifted and you locked eyes with the intruder.

Perdiccas.

"What do you want?" You practically growled, not bothering to try to be polite.

Perdiccas frowned and sat down next to you, "I have news, my love."

You tried not to make a disgusted expression when he called you “my love”.

"And what would that news be?" You asked uninterested. Perdiccas grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently. You frowned at his boldness.

Perdiccas rubbed your fingers, "We are going to Babylon."

You choked on the water you were drinking and the cup was placed sloppily on the table.

"What?!" You questioned him, standing up quickly. Perdiccas didn't seem bothered by your outburst, however.

"We are going to Babylon." He repeated as if you were a child with a learning disability, "I talked to Darius and he agreed that it's safer for you than staying here."

"I am not going." You growled, not even bothering to try and contain your anger. You were tired of men trying to tell you what to do. It could be the custom, the normal thing at that time, but you weren't from that time and you didn't care anymore.

Perdiccas raised an eyebrow, "That's not your choice."

"You don't give me orders." You said confidently. Perdiccas seemed to be getting angry.

Good. That would make two of you.

Perdiccas grabbed your face with one hand and forced you to look into his eyes, "We're going to Babylon and that's final."

Before you could say anything, Perdiccas pressed his lips against yours violently, practically swallowing you. You gasped and tried to pull away but his touch kept you in place.

It was wrong and disgusting on so many levels to feel him kiss you again. At that time, you were desperate and wanted comfort and that's why you kissed him but now it felt wrong, not only because he was forcing you, but also because you didn't want him anymore. You didn't even notice when the attraction you felt for Perdiccas started to wane, you just knew it disappeared.

Now all that was left was a spark of what had once been your friendship. But did this friendship really exist?

When Perdiccas finally released you from the kiss, you noticed that his lips were slightly swollen and you shivered in disgust as you watched him lick them. Before you could think or say anything, you raised your hand and slapped Perdiccas across the face, the sound echoing through the tent.

Perdiccas' face turned to the side from the impact and you knew it hurt when he placed his hand where he had just hit and hissed in pain.

Good.

Perdiccas looked at you in disbelief. He looked at you as if he had seen a ghost and not the woman he knew.

"W-What happened to you?" He asked, still holding his hand over the area where he was hit.

You stared at him with contempt shining in your eyes.

"I happened." You said, your eyes narrowing as the words were spoken, "And don't you ever touch me again without my permission, understand?" Your words were harsh and one could feel the anger reflected in them. Perdiccas swallowed hard as if he had just had a divine revelation.

He finally noticed, you realized it. Perdiccas finally realized that you are no longer the desperate and terrified woman he had met a few months ago.

You were a Queen and you were starting to act like it.

Alexander's tent was eerily silent on that restless night. One might think that the great King was resting, but the flickering light of the flames danced across the walls of the tent, betraying the agitation that consumed him. Alexander found no peace, not while his beloved wife was missing.

The entire Macedonian camp shared his anguish. News of the Queen's kidnapping had spread like wildfire, plunging soldiers and officers into a mixture of fury and despair. No one dared to blame Alexander for his insomnia, as everyone knew that the emptiness next to him in bed was an open wound in his heart. He spent hours pacing back and forth, his troubled thoughts reflected in the flickering shadows the flames cast.

Inside the tent, the atmosphere was filled with tension. Maps and parchments were spread out on the table, fingerprints and wax stains bearing witness to long nights of planning and worrying. The heavy curtains that bounded the space swayed gently in the night breeze, but they failed to carry away the feeling of helplessness that permeated the air.

Every sound outside the tent, whether the distant noise of the watchmen or the low murmur of the soldiers on watch, seemed to amplify Alexander's inner silence. His eyes, fixed on the flames, burned with the determination of a man who would not allow his wife to remain a captive any longer. The King of the Macedonians was prepared to move heaven and earth to bring her back, and everyone who knew him knew that nothing would stand in her way.

The entire Macedonian camp reacted with deep consternation to the news of the Queen's kidnapping. The atmosphere, already tense due to the nature of the military campaigns, became even more charged with discontent and suspicion, especially among Perdiccas' men. These soldiers, in particular, were disgusted by their general's actions. How could Perdiccas betray everyone's trust by kidnapping the Queen? By committing such an act, he not only condemned himself, but also cast a shadow of distrust on his subordinates.

The growing distrust between Perdiccas' men and the other soldiers in the camp was palpable. Loyalty, a fundamental pillar of the Macedonian army, was seriously shaken. Alexander had established that any fight between soldiers would be punished by death, a drastic measure to maintain order and discipline. However, the ban seemed to be ignored. Physical conflicts broke out with alarming frequency, and punishments were equally frequent, but they failed to stem the tide of violence and resentment.

The situation reached a critical point when even two of the most prominent generals came into conflict. Hephaestion and Craterus, known for their skills and loyalty to the King, became involved in a fight that shocked the camp. The details of the incident were hazy, but the essence of the conflict seemed clear: Craterus blamed Alexander for the Queen's kidnapping, a serious accusation that infuriated Hephaestion. He, in an effort to defend the honor of his friend and King, confronted Craterus, but the fight only served to increase anxiety and chaos among the troops.

The tension in the camp was almost palpable. Each soldier knew that the unit was crucial to the survival and success of their campaigns, but the shadow of Perdiccas' kidnapping and betrayal put everything at risk. Uncertainty about the Queen's future and safety hung over everyone, exacerbating the tension and making each day more difficult to bear.

The other generals were also overcome with fury at the betrayal. Cleitus, who had now recovered well although he was still too weak to fight, personally wanted to ride a horse with a group of soldiers and scouts to search for the Queen. However, Alexander did not allow it, which resulted in a heated argument that had to be ended by Ptolemy.

Hephaestion spent most of his time at Alexander's side, desperately trying to calm his friend. He was rarely seen outside the King's tent these days, his loyalty and concern evident in his every gesture. Ptolemy, on the other hand, stood out for his calm and rationality. Although he was also deeply upset by the Queen's kidnapping and Perdiccas betrayal, he tried to keep a cool head, aware that one more angry mind would not help anything.

Cassander was equally furious, but he controlled his words carefully so as not to say something that could get him killed. The tension made him clench his fists and grind his teeth, but he knew he needed to maintain his composure. Parmenion and Philotas, in turn, maintained a facade of indifference. They didn't show much concern or emotion in public, but everyone knew that deep down, they cared deeply. The Queen had won their sympathy and respect, and the apparent coldness was just a mask to hide genuine concern.

The camp was on the verge of emotional collapse. Every decision, every word, carried weight. The generals knew they needed to remain united and focused, but the shadow of the kidnapping hung over everyone, making any semblance of normality difficult.

Something needed to be done, and Alexander knew it. He had plans, detailed and strategic plans, and he was determined to carry them out above all else. His mind worked incessantly, tracing every movement, every step necessary to rescue his Queen and punish the traitor.

Inside his tent, Alexander prepared himself. His eyes, burning with a mixture of pain and fury, reflected the intensity of his determination. He knew that once he got his hands on Perdiccas, nothing would stop him. Perdiccas would pay dearly for his betrayal.

Alexander was willing to do anything to get his Queen back, to get you back. The thought of you being in danger tormented him, and he would not rest until you were safe by his side again. He summoned his generals, outlined his strategies and prepared his troops, ensuring that each soldier knew the importance of the mission.

With each passing moment, Alexander's resolve solidified. His leadership, fierce and relentless, galvanized the Macedonian army. The search for the Queen was not just a military operation; it was a rescue mission that touched every soldier's heart. Everyone knew that under Alexander's leadership they would be relentless in their pursuit and punishment of Perdiccas.

As the camp buzzed with preparation, Alexander remained focused. Nothing would divert him from his goal. He would do anything, face any obstacle, to bring his beloved Queen back. And when he finally rescued you, justice would be done, and Perdiccas's betrayal would be avenged with all the fury of a betrayed king.

The night was cold and silent, very silent. The rain from earlier had made the air colder and not even the heavy fur clothes seemed to contain the cold outside.

But you thought it was because most people had already gone to sleep, only you were awake and getting ready to leave the Persian camp.

You sighed and looked around, noticing some guards and servants tidying up everything. You sat down on a rock and tried to contain the excitement that was growing inside you. A part of you was furious with the events, especially with what had happened between you and Perdiccas earlier, but the other part was excited at the prospect of seeing a historic place in person, of seeing Babylon at its height.

You just didn't expect it to be like this. You were a hostage and you knew a lot could go wrong. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

"A kiss for your thoughts." You opened your eyes when you heard a voice. You sighed as you realized it was Aslan— or whatever he really called himself — talking to you.

"What do you want?" You asked, adjusting your robes.

Aslan frowned and said sarcastically, "In a bad mood, cara mia?"

"Just tired." That wasn't a lie, not completely. You were exhausted and couldn't sleep well at night with everything that was going on.

"Hmm..." Aslan murmured and sat down next to you, looking at the night sky, "I heard about what happened in your tent with Perdiccas today."

You gave him a sideways glance, ''Leave it alone.''

Aslan shook his head and you could swear there was barely contained anger on his face, "No, I won't let it alone. That wasn't right... Him forcing himself on you like that." The way his words seemed sincere took you by surprise.

You raised an eyebrow and glared at him, ''And do you care?''

"I'm not the bad guy here, (Y/N)." Aslan said and you scoffed, "Despite what you may think, I genuinely care about you."

"Care about me?" You laughed darkly, "If you care about me, then why the hell did you bring me here? What's the point of all this?!"

Aslan sighed, "You'll understand eventually. Now is not the time for you to know the truth, but..." He took your cold hand and rubbed it, trying to warm you up, "I promise I'll take care of you."

You couldn't help how your body shivered at his words. You found yourself watching him closely, his attractive features. Aslan was a handsome man, you finally realized, and although you didn't trust him, there was something about him that attracted you.

He seemed familiar to you somehow.

Aslan brought his face closer to yours and you felt your heart beat faster. He brought his lips to your ear and whispered, "I promise I'll make him pay for laying his hands on you."

You closed your eyes, feeling strangely warm inside at his words, at the promise in them. Aslan's words brought you comfort, something you hadn't felt in a while.

He smiled and kissed your cheek lovingly, "I need to go. I have things to do but I'll take care of you." Aslan let go of your hand and stood in front of you, he placed his hand on your face and lifted your chin, making you look into his dark eyes.

You couldn’t look away and you didn’t want to. Aslan rubbed your chin and brought his face closer to yours, his lips brushing yours, he said, "I promise I will always take care of you."

The frigid night air didn't seem so cold anymore as Aslan's words were heard by you over and over again. You were standing still, not knowing how to react, just watching him walk away from the camp.

There was a lot to be discovered, you realized. Maybe Babylon had the answers you needed.

— lady l: a calmer chapter but that's because chapter 15, which I'm already writing, will be more chaotic. Aslan is a complex character but does he care about Reader? That leaves the doubt... 👀

I hope you liked it, forgive me for any mistakes and this week I'll release the next chapter! Unti thenl!! ❤️

#the lost queen #tlq #history #yandere historical characters #x reader #alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #long fic #fanfic #yandere au #yandere history

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blooming-violets · 5 months

Note

I was looking your post about "Location based smut prompts", I really liked the possibilities of "Nature > 1 - sensual sex in a secluded meadow during a picnic". So I decided to be sassy and ask you to develop it, for our joy 🫦

Stormy Skies || TASM Smut

[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!Reader]

WC: 1k

General Warning: Don't have sex in a meadow during a storm. You will get struck by lightning and die.

The distant rolling of thunder rumbled through her chest and reverberated around her bones.

There was a warm, summer breeze in the air that carried on its back the earthy smell of rain.

Peter insisted that the skies wouldn’t open up but she was beginning to doubt his confident claims.

Long, green grass swayed and danced around the oasis of their blanket raft like tumbling ocean waves.

The oncoming storm echoed their own building desires. Firm hands rolled up her arms, cresting over the dip of her shoulders, and ticking behind her neck to draw her closer. Mocha colored eyes with caramel swirls gazed deep into her own, letting her know exactly what he was thinking without having to speak a word.

She wasn’t sure.

Her eyes glanced up to the stormy skies above them.

“Shh,” he soothed her worries. “We’re safe.”

“But if lightning- oh.”

His hands slipped up her dress as he leaned over, pressing her into the soft blanket, and quelling her thoughts before they could finish.

With Peter nestling his hips between her thighs, worry blew away in a gust of summer wind.

She could taste fresh watermelon on his lips as her tongue traced along them. She sought out the flavors of their lunch. Slices of juicy watermelon. Homemade lemonade. The slight saltiness of potato chips.

His large hand engulfed her breast over her dress. Cupping it in his palm. Rubbing his thumb over her nipple until he could feel it tighten and push out against the fabric.

He slid her strap down her shoulder so he could pull down the dress enough to capture the waiting bud in his sweet lips.

Her eyes sought upwards to gaze into the graying heavens while he nursed at her breast.

A cool, fat drop of rain fell down.

Landing on her forehead.

Rolling down the slope of her nose.

Soaking into the warm skin of her cheek.

Tension rippled down her spine and bloomed a hunger of desire.

She wanted to be one with nature.

Soaked in its glory.

Engaging in the most natural, timeless act two beings could do.

Nothing else mattered but making love to Peter while the storm grew around them.

Those fingers brushing against the thin cotton fabric, stroking along her wettening slit, teasing over her eager clitoris.

Little strokes. Awakening her body. Deepening her breaths until she was nearly gasping.

His hot mouth, still tending to her breast with nibbling kisses.

Her hands tangled in the mess of his chestnut hair. Tugging at him. Pulling him back up to her face so she could shower him with kisses of her own.

Tongues colliding.

Watermelon and salt.

Hints of sweet lemon.

He only broke the passion of her kiss to tug down her underwear. Unzipping his jeans and pushing them down to his knees.

She wanted to reach out and touch him. Take him into her mouth. Feel him in her hand.

But Peter was too hot.

Too needy.

Her thighs fell to the side, accommodating the weight of his body between them.

Light, cool raindrops tickled her face.

The sky was starting to leak.

Letting go.

Joining them in their building desires.

Peter pressed his forehead against hers. Blocking her from the drizzle. Gazing with a burning love into her eyes. Watching her intently as he led his cock into its favorite home.

She nearly cried out when he impaled her. Slow and true.

Her eyes widened, back arching, mouth opening into a silent gasp.

His arms wrapped around her head in a protective embrace.

Forehead nuzzled to hers.

Lips seeking her skin.

Reassuring kisses.

Soft whispers of love.

Her hips rocked against him. It was impossible to stay still with him inside of her.

Waves of pleasure rolling up her back and warming her stomach, mimicking the feeling of rumbling thunder over head.

The torrent of sensations electrifying her skin.

Creating her own lightning from her body.

Dark skies opened up.

Rain flooded from the heavens.

Drenching through Peter’s hair. Plastering it to his face. Soaking through his clothes. Seeping into the blanket under her.

He acted as her personal umbrella. Keeping her as dry as he could with his body.

Thrusting of hips.

Cries deafened by claps of thunder.

Colliding together in an explosion of undying pleasure.

One with mother earth. One of the grass and clouds and rain.

Making love in the meadow.

Her body swayed in rhythm to every moaning breath, every gasping inhale, every rumbling of thunder in the distance.

Lost in a storm of passion. Her thoughts coming and going like flashes of lightning. All she could feel was Peter and the rain.

Pure desire coursing through her veins.

Her Peter. Her love. Treating her to the most beautiful human experience she could imagine.

Better than a dream.

Her world began to move. Shifting. Trusting him with her soul. Her body. Everything she had to give belonged to him. To take as he pleased.

He would treat her right.

He would love her like a man was meant to.

Her shoulders flexed as the tension built.

An unstoppable march like the rain cascading around them.

Pushing her to an animalistic, wild freedom.

Growing.

Climbing.

Reaching.

A tempest of raging rain and thunder twisting her insides where they connected.

She almost wanted to fight it. Afraid to let the moment fall from her grasp.

Wanting to live in this building moment of bliss for the rest of time.

But there was no stopping a lightning strike.

“Peter!”

His name was magic on her lips. Her saving grace. The one and only name she called out when she was at her lowest or highest.

The only name there ever was, ever needed to be.

The most perfect name in all of human history.

Peter.

Her body shook. Her voice breaking into a staggered cry.

Explosion moved her stomach as it scrunched inward and stretched back out with her aching spine.

Uncontained energy.

Melding with the claps of thunder and breaking free as a white light of cracking electricity lit up the blackened sky.

She was the lightning. She was the thunder. She was the impending storm.

She was the soothing rain cooling her back down, keeping her mind from getting lost, tethering her tightly to her lover.

Peter was kissing her cheek. Gliding down her jaw. Nipping at her ear.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against her heated skin.

He loved her orgasms. Loved making her feel everything. Loved watching her unravel.

Loved her.

His hips were still moving though his pace had slowed to let her recover from her shaking orgasm. He was waiting for her to finish before he even dared to attempt to receive his own pleasure.

Always her first.

Her sweet, wonderful Peter.

She shoved his shoulder, rolling him onto his back so she could take control.

She straddled his hips, rising above him like a goddess.

Her hair tossed around her face as the wind picked up. The rain soaked through her dress, leaving it nearly see through, letting Peter see the swell of her round stomach and outline of her breasts. Dark, shadowed nipples poked out against the wet fabric, leaving him hungry to suck upon them.

But she denied him that gift like he denied her the taste of his cock.

It was his turn to become one with the storm.

She came down to grind him into her.

Rolling her hips along with the thunder.

Sinking as deep as he could go, connecting them once more.

Peter’s head fell back, his eyes rolling to a close, and his lips parting into a pant.

His hands reached up to grab hold of her hips, needing to feel her in his grasp.

The scent of wet dirt filled her nostrils and she breathed it deeply into her very soul.

She knew him better than anyone. She knew he was close.

She worked him with her hips, doing her best to squeeze onto him with her clenching walls.

Riding above him in the pouring rain while a storm raged on made her feel powerful.

Like she could do anything.

Be anyone.

This was her world and she was the master of it.

Peter’s tiny cries and whimpers fueled her own power.

“That’s it, baby,” she cooed down at him. “Cum for me. Fill me.”

He whined and his hips began to buck with frantic, jerking thrusts.

She couldn’t tell if those were tears or rain drops running down his cheek so she leaned down to kiss them away, offering him all her love.

His arms wrapped around her back to hold her closer, stilling her in place with an iron clad grasp, and taking over the brunt of the thrust work to get himself exactly where he needed to be.

His orgasm was nearly as powerful as her own.

Pulsing into her, filling her, flooding her with warmth.

“Oh, yes, Peter,” she cried.

She worked her hips the best she could against him with his arm holding her in place at his chest.

Desperate to keep his orgasm going for as long as she could.

Lightning lit up the sky once more.

Followed by a crack of ear splitting thunder directly overhead.

As if on instinct, Peter tucked her into his grasp, and flipped her under him, shielding her from any potential threats.

Worried eyes blinked down at her, only to soften once he caught sight of her gazing back up at him with a humored love.

They both broke into a chorus of laughter.

His fingers traced along her temple, brushing back wet hair, and leaving soft kisses in its place.

“I think we should get back to the car before we die,” he whispered, stealing one last kiss from her lips.

Remember!

If you've read to the end then you've got to do your part and reblog! Writers write for you and you reblog for us. That's the way tumblr works.

Reblog, reblog, reblog.

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voxslays · 5 months

Text

The Storm ~ Vox x Reader

It was a dark day in hell. Not that day’s in hell weren’t usually dark because of the dark crimson sky—but today, there were dark clouds covering the pentagon in the sky. Meaning one thing. There would be a storm.

Hoping to be lucky enough to run out and get groceries for you and the rest of the Vees before the storm hit, you ran into a small grocery store, got your items, and quickly checked out.

You ran down the streets of Cannibal Town, hoping to take a quick shortcut, but ultimately being cornered by cannibals. Luckily, you were an overlord. Quite a powerful one at that.

After easily taking your cannibal enemies down, you continued your quest to get back to the tower. Unfortunately, the storm you and the rest of hell had been expecting had just begun.

Hellborns, Hellhounds, Fallen Angels, and some sinners were immune to the acid rain that fell during the rare occurrences when a storm happened. Unfortunately, you were not one of them.

You could feel the acid raindrops burning your skin.

You ran and ran, until you were met with the three bright V’s of the Vees building. You quickly opened the door and bolted inside.

In the lobby, you were met with the overworked receptionist, Linda, and many Voxtech workers. They all looked up at you with shocked and relieved expressions.

“Miss, Y/N!” A sinner with rosy-red skin, violet hair, and big black glasses shouted from across the room. She took the groceries out of your hands, grabbed your arm, and yanked you into an elevator.

The two of you quickly made it to the eleventh floor. In the room before you sat a worried looking Valentino, with his face buried in his hands, and a pacing Velvette, who looked just as worried. They were startled by your footsteps.

“Bloody hell! What the hell took you so long?” She yelled, grabbing your shoulders and aggressively shaking you. Valentino looked up at the both of you and said “Your Voxy is searching through all of the security cameras in the city,” Valentino paused just as Vox appeared via a security camera. “Speak of the devil.” Both Val and Vel muttered unanimously.

“Where were you!?” Vox raised his voice. You tell he had been worried about you.

“I…” You paused. “I was out shopping. I’m sorry.” You spoke guiltily.

Vox didn’t respond but, instead slowly hugged you. Soon, both Velvette and Val joined the group hug.

“You must be tired. Let’s go upstairs, babe.” Vox said slowly and softly.

“Oooh taking it upstairs Voxy?” Val mocked him.

“Shut up Val!” You, Velvette and Vox said together in sync.

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 1 year

Text

You're Late - Max Verstappen

The midnight moon was high in the sky as the rain gently pattered on the apartment windows in Monte Carlo, Monaco. This was the perfect setting for you. You were in bed, cosy and warm as you listened to the rain on the window as the moon peeked through the curtains. However, there was one thing missing.

Nearly a week ago, Max had left for a race, and you weren't able to join him. You never really cared for the nitty gritty details, you just cared that Max was safe and happy. Every day, you had talked on the phone at any given opportunity.

You talked about anything and everything, from serious conversations to mumbling sweet nothings as you fell asleep was still on the phone. On nights such as these, you would normally be fast asleep in Max's arms, but he still wasn't there.

He was supposed to be home a few hours ago, but he wasn't. You had stayed up all night, waiting for him to come home, but you were always met with silence whenever you heard a car drive by the apartment complex.

He hadn't returned a single one of your calls or texts, and you were naturally worried. Max would always respond to you, no matter where he was or who he was with. You were priority number one, and he always had time for you.

You glued your eyes to the raindrops racing down the window panes, hoping it would take your mind off the worry for Max. They zigzagged down the glass, leaving beads of water behind them as they travelled. It was a peaceful sight to look upon, and it would normally serve as the relaxant you were looking for.

But not tonight.

Every drop that fell was an extra moment of time that Max wasn't there, and an extra morsel of worry added to the pile. You checked your phone, but all you saw was your own face staring right back at you on the screen.

The photo was of you and Max, just as he had picked you up while you were holding one of his trophies. He had taken you by surprise, the look of complete shock on your face still making you fondly smile at the memory.

After what had felt like a lifetime of thinking, and reminiscing, you heard your apartment door quietly click open, and Max's steps slowly approached your room. Max hadn't switched any lights on as he travelled through the apartment, so he couldn't see a thing.

You heard him wobbling around, guiding himself by holding onto the walls. Just before he made it to your bedroom, he knocked an ornament off of a table in the hall and froze for a second, hoping he hadn't woken you up.

As soon as the ornament clattered down to the floor, you heard a whispered yet panicked, "Shit!". You giggled, trying not to let Max hear you. You listened as he fumbled around, trying to put the ornament back in place, but he gave up.

Max then crept through the room, and shuffled around as he quietly got changed. He crawled into bed and wrapped his arms around you. "You're late," you whispered as Max groaned in disappointment.

"Did I wake you up?" he winced as you turned in his arms to face him. You were just glad to see his face, some of his features illuminated by the moonlight. "No, I've been waiting for you to get home. Why did it take you so long?" you asked, affectionately cupping his cheek with your hand.

"My flight got cancelled because of the storm, and the rain meant no service, so I couldn't text you and tell you, sorry," he smiled, not wanting you to worry. He wanted your life to be as carefree and relaxed as he could make it.

"Don't worry about it, you're here now, and that's what matters to me," you told him, maneuvering closer to him. It was nice just to feel him there, to have him home. "I missed you," He said half-asleep, burying his head into your neck.

"I missed you too, Maxie. Now I think it's time for you to get some rest, you're tired," you softly chuckled as his eyes fluttered open and closed. "I missed you too, and I completely agree, it had been a long day," he sighed, holding you as close as he could.

"Goodnight, Max. I love you," you said, tangling your hands in his hair and gently massaged his scalp. "I love you too," he yawned, swiftly kissing you on the neck. He let his eyes close and fell into a peaceful slumber with you, listening to the sound of rain pouring over the city you called home, together.

A/N - Just a short little something to hold you guys over until I get something longer finished! Keep the requests coming, I'm loving them! Enjoy your evening/day, love you loads 💖

|masterlist|

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chronicdisasterwrites · 1 year

Text

i’d keep you company in the dark

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre + warnings: - ANGST but FLUFFY ending!! jjk movie spoilers!! happens after the ending of jjk-0, death, sad gojo, kisses.

word count: 1,672

authors note: this was a request by my lovely @daisy-the-quake <3 it's a song-fic, inspired by the song "peaches” by grandson x k.flay

enjoy <3

Your eyes shoot open as you lie still and unmoving. The blinking red light of the clock on your bedside table indicates midnight. Yet another nightmare, about the same thing. It starts with you standing face-to-face with Suguru. His face twisted with the sneer he had on when he came to the school to announce his plan; "The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons". You try to move but you can’t. You try to talk to him, try to convince him to listen to reason, but nothing comes out. He laughs, then it shifts and his laughing transitions into an irksome drone coming out of his ajar mouth. It turns into an incessant buzzing growing exponentially until it’s so loud you can’t see, think, or feel anything. And then the noise stops completely and you’re standing in the sky looking down at Satoru standing in an arena, alone, with a horde of shadows surrounding him. They all make their way toward him like ants capturing a crystal of sugar. You don't do anything. You don’t move or scream or fight. You feel like you don't even exist. Just when the shadows are about to swallow him whole does he look up at you, with hollow eyes and no will to survive.

The hammering of raindrops against your windows could’ve also been a factor, but the sweat on your face and the drumming of your heart indicate otherwise. Taking a few deep breaths you try to normalize your heartbeat. It was exhausting, having the same nightmare over and over again. Ever since Suguru died, all your dreams seemed to be about the same thing. Then you imagine, how Satoru must be feeling. You fall back into reality and realize Satoru’s side of the bed was abandoned. It had been a few days since Suguru died, and since then Satoru had been acting strangely. You never asked him straight up if he was okay, because you know he wasn’t. Of course, he wasn’t. So you tried to show him you were there if he wanted to talk, but he always laughed it off and changed the subject without showing a moment’s weakness. He was acting like nothing happened and life was just fine and dandy. The dream you had fills your mind with thoughts of Satoru losing his mind to the grief of losing his best friend and trudging down a path from which he could never return. You couldn't help him in your dream. Instead, you just stood there watching him get consumed by his demons. You bolt out of bed to look for him. He wasn’t in the apartment you both shared, so you made a guess and decided to trust your gut. You take your keys, wear a raincoat, take an umbrella, shove your phone in your pocket, and make your way to Jujutsu Tech.

Parking your motorcycle in front of the steps of the school you see him sitting on the steps, head downturned and raindrops ricocheting off his Infinity. Once you start climbing the steps, does he lift his head to give you a small smile, tired and sullen, not at all like his genuine smile.

You sigh and sit next to him, shoulders touching and legs brushing. Your face was half-covered by the hood of the raincoat but some raindrops still fell on your nose and exposed hands. Hearing the familiar buzz of Satoru’s Infinity, you look up and watch the raindrops slide down around you, making you feel like you were encased in a snow globe. The pattering of raindrops sounded muted and you felt safe and protected from the terrors of the world. So, this is how Satoru feels?

“What brings you here?”

You remove your hood and look into his dull eyes. Shrugging, you reply with a tender voice, “I couldn’t find you so I figured you’d be here.”

Satoru huffs, looking away and linking his hands together over his knees, “I’m fine before you ask.”

Gojo Satoru was a complex human being. Sometimes people tend to forget he is a human being, thanks to his charisma, strength, and holier-than-thou attitude. But that’s all he was; a human being, blessed burdened with the strength of a God. The ever-present smile on his dazzling face makes you forget that he’s not a shiny person. But when his eyes dim and his smile falls in the dark of the night when a million eyes aren’t on him you realize just how bruised and battered he is.

You release a tired breath. He thinks he’s all alone in this world. He thinks no one can ever help him with anything because no one is as strong as him. The world always revolved around him, his strength, his power, his name. No one could ever equal him, so he believes it’s only fair for him to carry his burdens and sorrows on his own.

“Y’know Satoru…” He glances at you and quirks a thin, silver eyebrow. You stare ahead, picking at the skin around your nails.

“You’re not alone. As much as you want to believe you are, you aren’t. So, if you aren’t gonna let me in, that’s fine. Just- please let yourself feel without putting on a front.”

You hear him exhale and watch him hang his head down from your peripheral vision.

“What’s the point?” He mutters under his breath. The only reason you could hear him at all was because his Infinity dulled the noise in the outside world.

This time you stare at his downturned head and you can’t stop yourself from speaking, “What’s the point? The point is that you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to hurt alone. I want you to share your pain with me! Yeah sure, you can get through this alone. You can shove it under the rug, but just this once, don’t be the strongest. Just let me hurt with you, let’s get through this together. Please, Satoru.”

He lifts his head and stares you straight in your eyes. You know how much he’s hurting. His world turned upside down and everything changed. He had to watch his friend plummet into the darkness and he had to be the one to deliver the final blow. His heart is shattered and you’re scared there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. The only thing you can do is be by his side and try to pick up his broken pieces.

He exhales a shaky breath as his eyes glisten like a dewdrop on a blade of grass, “Can we get through this?”

You reach out your hand and move a couple of strands of his hair from his vision. You let your hand lie against his warm cheek and he lets his eyes shut, “I know everything went to shit. But it’s not permanent, Satoru. I don’t know if things will get better, but we can only hope, right?”

He takes your hand in his own and runs his thumb over your knuckles.

“Yeah. We can only hope.”

He sighs and stares at your hand, “I miss him.”

“I know…”

You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. It’s dark, except for a few streetlights. You think he’d enjoy a piece of cake or something sweet right about now. You open your mouth to ask him when he beats you to it, “Things won’t be the same.”

Your mouth hangs open and you wait as he continues speaking, “It might get better, it might get worse. Honestly? It doesn’t matter. We can’t really afford to be optimistic with a life like ours.” He lets out a humorless laugh. Looking at you, he gives you a gentle smile and leans forward to kiss your forehead. He lingers there for a quiet moment as the rain serenades you both.

“We’ll get through this.”

You love him so much. Looking at his beautiful, weary face, you smile and leave a chaste kiss on his lips. Stealing another kiss, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, “I love you, y’know that?”

Smiling, you stand and give him your hand, “Yeah, I love you too.”

He holds your hand and stops you on your way down the stairs, “Hey…I'm sorry for being selfish. I know you’re hurting too. I don’t want you to think I don't notice that.”

Turning back to look at him, you caress his knuckles with your thumb, “It's okay, Satoru-”

“No, it's not.” He stands on the upper step, looking down at you with tender eyes, "D'you have another nightmare? Is that why you woke up?" He traces the dark circles under your eyes and keeps his thumb on the apple of your cheek.

You sigh and close your eyes momentarily, "Yeah..."

"You wanna talk about it?"

Your free fingers wrap around his slender wrist as you look up at his glittering, blue eyes. "Maybe later." He nods.

You both walk down the steps, your hand warm in his. By now the rain had slowed down to a soft patter. He notices the umbrella tied on the backseat of your motorcycle and quirks an eyebrow, “Why’d you bring this?”

You offer a sheepish smile and take out your keys from your pocket, “I- uh, figured you might need it. I thought you’d deactivate your Infinity and sit in the rain or something… So y’know I didn’t want you to waste all your energy covering us both from the rain but I guess that’s exactly what you did so it was pretty usele-”

Your rambling was immediately shut down by the press of his lips against yours. You feel him smile into the kiss and your heart feels so warm. I love him so much. Hugging you, he rests his chin on your head, “Thank you.”

You think it’s ironic how you’re shivering from the cold yet feeling so incredibly warm at the same time. He chuckles and unties the umbrella taking a seat on the backseat of your bike, “Let’s go home, yeah?”

a/n: well, after chapter 236 this sure is a knife to the heart.

taglist: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite, @mariapierce789, @laylasbunbunny, @r0ckst4rjk

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seonghrtz · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐓.

synopsis: gojo shows up at your flat door to ask you for a favor. warnings: mention of childhood abuse. mention of death.

It was a rainy night in Kyoto. The raindrops fell systematically, and the icy wind blew through the streets, taking the leaves from the trees with it. The blue sea sky was covered with heavy clouds that dumped rain without fear of disturbing the city's inhabitants. Due to the stormy weather ⸻ and the time of day ⸻ there were few people out on the streets, many taking shelter in their homes, as was the case with Kamo Y/n.

Her foot, covered in a fluffy sock with red and white stripes, touched the wooden floor of her apartment as she walked calmly into the living room. Tomorrow would be her day off, something extremely rare for a jujutsu sorceress of her level. And even though the elders of the jujutsu world seemed to have a certain disdain for the word "rest" and for the fact that they didn't care about the physical and mental well-being of the younger generations, putting children and teenagers through completely inhumane and exhausting training, the young Kamo still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

And who says an injury caused by a grade one curse can't be a blessing? Sure, having a partially-healed wound on her shoulder could be hell on earth, but at least it had guaranteed her a day without worries.

Kamo Y/n didn't have many good, quiet moments during her childhood and adolescence. Born outside the clan, Y/n was only truly "accepted" when it was discovered that she possessed the acclaimed technique inherited from the Kamo family, blood manipulation, as well as other abilities, the most surprising of which ⸻ and unseen by the clan members ⸻ was the ability to control not only her own blood, but the blood of her opponents. With such a great and unique ability, one of the greatest clans in jujutsu society couldn't afford to lose sight of it and not appropriate this power. The young Kamo has had a hard and intense training, accompanied by a near-death experience, so such a break would be a utopian reality fully exploited.

But as all good things are, before the young woman could even sit down on her cozy little three-seater sofa, desperate knocks on her door echoed through the apartment.

A sigh left the girl's lips and a question came. Who was knocking on her door at the crack of dawn? Perhaps it was Utahime, or even Shoko, who came up with the idea of watching a film while gossiping about the jujutsu world.

However, when Y/n opened the door, she was surprised to see the round glasses of a certain jujutsu sorcerer with an ego as big as his fame.

"Kamo-san." A complicit smile formed on the white-haired boy's lips in front of the young woman.

"Gojo..." A sigh left the young woman's lips.

What was Gojo Satoru, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer of his generation, doing outside her apartment door?

Ever since she was taken to the Kamo clan, Y/n had been warned about the child who possessed the six-eyes technique. And although there was a certain amount of rivalry between the three most powerful families, she knew that her clan's situation compared to the Zenin clan was a little more favorable with the Gojo clan.

But even so, Y/n had no hypothesis that could explain the alleged appearance of a Gojo in her apartment, let alone any idea that would lead her to the answer as to how he knew where she lived.

Some piece of that puzzle was out of place.

"So..." Gojo said uncertainty, the smile still on his lips.

"Shoko's not here."

"Shoko? What? No! No! I'm not after Shoko!"

"Then... why are you here?"

"Ah... well..." Gojo's gaze sank lower.

Y/n's eyes followed the movement of the sorcerer's bright blue eyes in front of her and noticed a child being held like a shopping bag.

"You..." Kamo looked at the child, who had a neutral expression on his face, and then at Gojo "You kidnapped a child?"

"WHAT?" Gojo laughed mockingly, "I'm just doing a favor..."

"And why are you here?"

"To ask you for a favor..." Gojo's smile faded from his lips.

"You came all the way to Kyoto to ask me for a favor?"

"Well, I have a mission near Kyoto and since you live here, I wanted to ask you for a favor..." Gojo's free hand went to the back of his head, "Ah, you could look after this brat while I do the mission, I promise it won't take too long."

"If you knew you had a mission, why did you agree to look after him?"

"Well, it's more complicated than you can imagine... But it's just this once and I promise I'll be back as soon as I can, just stay with him for a few hours."

Y/n looked again at the child held by Gojo. The boy met her gaze, but his expression remained neutral, he looked a little tired. But the intensity of his green eyes sent a shiver down her spine.

"Ah well... ok, but only for a few hours." Y/n looked at Gojo again.

"Thanks, Kamo!" Gojo smiled openly, "I'll reward you later! And you, brat, I think you'd better behave."

Gojo placed the child on the ground next to Kamo and waved his hand before leaving. Y/n watched his white hair disappear until she turned her attention to the child, who was already looking at her.

"Well... ah... make yourself at home." She opened the door to her flat, showing him the living room and the entrance to the kitchen.. The boy glanced in the direction of the jujutsu sorceress before entering the apartment and taking off his sneakers. "What's your name?"

"Fushiguro Megumi."

"My name is Kamo Y/n, it's nice to meet you."

Megumi looked at the girl in front of him and nodded slightly. Apparently he wasn't a child who talked much, only when asked directly.

"Do you want to watch something? Maybe Digimon?" Y/n made her way to the sofa and sat down, waiting for Megumi to follow in her footsteps. "Or anything you want, you don't have to be afraid to ask."

"Could I have a glass of water, please?" Megumi's voice came out a little lower.

"Sure, why don't you sit on the sofa while I get the water. Here's the remote, you can watch whatever you want, don't be shy." Y/n smiled slightly and got up from the sofa, handing Megumi the remote, who accepted it timidly. The young Kamo went into the kitchen and immediately looked for a plastic cup for Megumi. The girl placed the plastic cup in the water filter and listened to the faint sound of the television, perhaps Megumi was beginning to feel comfortable. After filling the cup, Y/n returned to the living room and handed it to Megumi, who thanked her in a whisper.

Kamo sat at the other end of the sofa, watching a documentary on wolves on the television.

"Do you like animals, Fushiguro?" She looked at the child who just nodded, his eyes glued to the television, but Y/n couldn't help but notice the slight blush on Megumi's ears. He was cute, even though he seemed to want to look serious.

But the real question there was what Gojo Satoru had gotten himself into by taking care of this child...

"I think I deserve an explanation." Y/n crossed her arms as she looked at her reflection in Gojo's round lens sunglasses.

It was almost two in the morning, and Megumi ended up sleeping on the sofa during the documentary about white elephants.

"Well, it's a long story..." Gojo laughed slightly, his hand on the back of his head.

"Then I guess we'll have a long night." Y/n gave Gojo room to enter the flat. The first thing his blue eyes saw was the figure of little Fushiguro wrapped in a blanket on the sofa.

"Is there somewhere more private we can talk?" Gojo's voice sounded serious in contrast to the smile that played on his lips.

"Let's go to my room."

"Aren't you going to buy me a drink first?" Gojo smiled mischievously, letting his glasses slip down the bridge of his nose to reveal his incredibly bright blue eyes.

"Stop being an idiot, Gojo," Y/n rolled her eyes as she led him to her room. When they reached the room, the girl closed the door behind her and sat on the bed with her legs and arms crossed. "You can start talking now."

"Ah... well..." Gojo laughed nervously, "Have you ever heard of Toji Zenin?"

"Toji Zenin? The non-cursed user who was an ex-member of the Zenin family? Who was known as the Sorcerer Killer?"

"Yes. Huum well... a while ago I met him and we had a "disagreement" that led to his death..."

"But what does Toji Zenin have to do with Fushiguro?"

"Toji Zenin is Megumi's father..." Gojo pressed his lips together in a line, waiting for a reaction from Y/n.

"You killed Megumi's father..." The girl's words sounded more like a statement than a question.

"Megumi was going to be sold to the Zenin family."

"And now you're looking after Fushiguro so that he doesn't fall into the hands of the Zenin clan?"

"That's pretty much it," Gojo shrugged.

"Do you think you can take care of a child half your age?" Y/n looked at him incredulously. "Gojo, the Jujutsu world is unpredictable and cruel, there are many variables and bad things that can–"

"That's why I'm trying."

"You're a hopeless case," Kamo whispered and let out a sigh, "you're going to need help, and lots of it."

"So you'll help me?" Gojo's eyes sparkled with hope.

"Gojo, Fushiguro is a child, he needs someone to look after him and protect him, preferably an adult who knows how."

"I want Megumi to have a normal childhood, I don't want him to have to go through what we went through, that's not fair." Gojo sighed.

Y/n looked at Gojo. He was right. Megumi deserved a decent childhood, something different from the hostile treatment she had received as a child. He didn't deserve to go through what she had gone through as a child, no one did. And helping Gojo from time to time with Megumi could, perhaps, improve the boy's situation.

"If you need help, you can call me." Kamo's words surprised Gojo.

"Really?!" the light in Satoru's eyes returned at the same moment.

"Yes, but you must promise me that Fushiguro will not go to the Zenin clan, no matter what abilities he develops."

"I promise!" A broad smile appeared on Gojo's lips.

"Well, this is going to be a long journey..." a sigh left Y/n's lips, hardly knowing what the future held.

memory garden masterlist !

☆! tag list : @arminswifee . @khaleesihavilliard . @chieeeeeee . @manooffline . @shybananabagellover . @r0ckst4rjk . @sad-darksoul . @chuluoyi . @stormflysaysstuff

#ㅤ♱ㅤwritten by amy.#五条悟ㅤ͏✷ㅤ𝑚. ͏𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝄒#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jjk gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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sports-on-sundays · 6 months

Text

us / OP81

Summary: Oscar x childhood friend!female!Australian!reader - 'She fell first, he fell harder' trope. You had a crush on Oscar for years but you never thought you and him would actually happen. Fluffy thing I'm banging out for his birthday.

Warnings: censored cussing

Requested?: No.

Author's Note: It's raining right now, so that kind of inspired this.

"Ugh!" you suddenly groan when you feel a raindrop on your arm. "You've got to be kidding me! I thought it wasn't supposed to rain for another two hours!"

"It's raining?" Oscar asks, looking up at the grey sky. "F*ck, you're right."

"Yeah! I hate the United Kingdom!"

He snorts. "I can't say I disagree."

"Weather sucks. Can't even go for a nice walk with my friend without it starting to rain halfway through it!"

"Want to turn around, then? Head back to my flat?"

You groan and nod. "Sure." The two of you begin walking, retracing your steps.

You're just celebrating his birthday late with him, spending some time, and plan to give him a little gift later.

"Getting chilly?" Oscar asks as you walk, amused. "And you were so sure earlier, before we left. 'Oscar, it's fine!'" he begins imitating you, "'The rain won't begin for another two hours! I'll be fine in just this!' You're going to freeze."

You sigh. Yes, it's true. You were stuck on wearing the orange papaya crop top you just bought for this date afternoon walk with Oscar. He kept asking you why you were so stuck on it, but of course you couldn't answer. Because then you'd be admitting to his handsome face that you like him, and that you want to impress him.

He's not very impressed right now with your foolish decision to not bring a jacket, and makes this clear as he mutters, "You're so weird."

You frown. Well, that's the opposite of your goal. You want Oscar to like you, not think you're weird.

But when he catches your eye, there's a teasing look to it. "But I don't mind you being weird. Just becomes a little annoying when I have to give up my jacket in order to keep you warm."

You stare at him as he grins, slipping off his black windbreaker/rain resistant jacket and lays it over your shoulders. He's wearing a long sleeve shirt under it, but still, you feel bad.

And you're definitely not cold anymore, as you're heating up with embarrassment by the sweet gesture from him. You slip your arms into the jacket, which is big on you, and smells like whatever cologne or laundry detergent or whatever he uses.

You look up at him, catching him staring at you, with a little smile on his lips.

He looks away.

"Wha-?" you demand.

"Nothing. It's just kind of big on you."

"Right."

Well, now it's awkward.

Oscar seems to make a point of always walking on the side of the street on the sidewalks. You're not sure if it's because it's specifically you, or if he would do that with anyone, but either way, you like it.

As you walk, the air seems to get more chilled, and the rain picks up. Suddenly, there's thunder in the distance, and you flinch.

Oscar looks to you. "Don't worry. That thunder is far off. We'll be home in no time."

You frown, not convinced. "Oscar, I don't know..." You tighten the hood of his jacket around your face.

"Hey," he says suddenly, meeting your eyes. Locking your eyes with his. "Don't worry."

"It's so rainy, Oscar... I'm raining so hard now..." you wipe a raindrop from your forehead.

Oscar seems to pick up your discomfort at the rain and fear of a potential lightning storm. He suddenly grabs your wrist (which gives you a bit of a rush) and pulls you up some stairs, so that you're standing under the overhanging roof of some closed business.

"Let's just wait it out here, then," he says simply, still not letting go of your wrist.

In fact, his hand just slips down a bit, so he's holding yours.

You stare at the ground. At your hands.

And you can't help but feel butterflies.

"Hey, uhm, Oscar?" you ask.

"Yeah?" he asks back.

But you don't know what to say, so you stay quiet, watching the rain with him.

"You're feeling okay?" he asks after a while.

You look up at him. Because of his jacket around you, you're mostly dry. His shirt is wet and hanging from him, and his wet hair is stuck to his forehead.

You reach up, and without thinking, ruffle his wet hair a bit.

He just laughs, saying, "What you doing?"

You shrug, smiling at him.

And then more silence. Other than the rain beating on every surface around you, there's not noise. Other than the two of you, standing here, alone but together, there is no one else around.

Suddenly Oscar says, "I've been thinking about something."

"What's that?"

"You."

You look up, just in time for Oscar to gently put his hand on your waist.

You blush bright red.

"You like me, don't you?" Oscar asks softly, searching your eyes for something.

"Y- Yeah..." you mutter, looking away from his eyes.

He smiles. "You're so shy. Look at me."

You force yourself to look back at him.

"How long?" Oscar asks. "How long have you liked me?"

You clear your throat. "Quite a while now. Like, years."

"Years?"

"Yeah... Like, since we were eighteen, maybe."

"Oh, wow..." he nods. Thinks for a few seconds. "I've been thinking about you and me lately. Like, you know. Us."

You blush at just that word.

Us.

It's something you want, and you have wanted for a while.

Suddenly he begins to whisper. "I've liked you for not as long... recently, I've just kind of realized, but I haven't been able to get it out of my head. I just... I love your hair, and your eyes... You're so pretty, and caring... I love your teasing and your sweet personality... You feel so perfect. Like, where would I be without you. You're just, like, the missing piece to my puzzle. It's like... like, all the sudden, I just kind of realized... it just kind of clicked..."

"What did?" you breathe.

He stares at you intently, not letting your gaze escape, even if it wanted to.

"The fact that I know that I love you."

Your mouth drops.

Your head swarms.

What? How?

You have always said you liked Oscar. You said you had a crush on him, and you'd love to date him. You'd say he's cute, and you get along with him. But never had you thought you needed him, or in someway, he was your second half. You never really thought you were actually meant for each other. Never had you though you would be someone else without him. Never had you...

Never had you even considered those words.

I love you.

He loves me, and he knows it.

Without a shadow of a doubt.

He smiles a little, his cheeks finally reddening a bit. "I guess I just figured, you know, today was the day to tell you. Celebrating my birthday and all, with you... Sorry it's raining, though. It would've have been nicer news if it were sunny, and I wasn't soaking wet, looking like a pathetic wet wild animal," he jokes.

You laugh out loud, still a bit nervous, but say, "I'd still like you, even if you always looked like a pathetic wet wild animal."

He grins a little, nodding. "I mean, you know. Maybe it would be a little bit more impactful on a lovely sunny day in Melbourne or somethin', sitting with you on a park bench, overlooking-"

You giggle. "Are you fantasizing?"

He blushes. "So what if I am?"

You grin. "Well, next time we're in Melbourne... you better bring me to the park and make that come true. Buy me some ice cream. Then we can go for a real walk, without having to go home halfway through because of a rain storm."

"And without having to stop because it gets too rainy, just for me to confess my love for you," he adds, still grinning back, but his eyes softening at the same time.

I grin and mutter, "I never imagined you to be the type to fall hopelessly in love."

"I'm not," he laughs, "but maybe you're just the type to do that to me."

"Well, maybe rainy London isn't so bad."

He chuckles. "Yeah. Maybe not."

Later, after you've made it back to Oscar's flat, you're sitting on his couch, waiting for him to finish changing into dry clothes and getting some snacks. He comes back in sweatpants and a hoodie, and sits down next to you, turning on some cricket on the television. He hands you the plate of snacks, and you both start munching as you watch the television, sitting a healthy-friend-distance away from each other.

But Oscar realizes this and says, "Come on, now. You can sit closer than that." He tucks his arm around your back, gently pulling you into him. You head naturally falls to leaning against his shoulder.

You smile and shut your eyes a bit, content. "This feels right," you tell him softly.

"Yeah," he breathes, "I agree. It does, doesn't it?"

"Oh!" you suddenly say. "I still haven't given you your birthday present yet, Oscar."

"Oh yeah..." he smiles, watching you.

You reach in the pocket of your jeans, pulling out a little box. You watch him nervously as he opens it and pulls out the bracelet. You say quickly as he studies it, "I know you're not really one to wear jewelry a lot like some of the other drivers on the paddock... But I thought maybe, just, like, a bracelet... to remind you of me... because... you know... I like, miss you when you're gone and stuff... I know it's dumb, but..."

"It's not dumb," he says immediately. It's a little leather woven bracelet, with your name on it, written in morse code.

He grins and slips it onto his wrist, pulling it tight. "This is so sweet. And thoughtful. I'll wear it every race weekend. All the time."

You giggle, leaning even more into him. "I like that. You're so sweet."

Suddenly, he gently takes your chin in his hand, staring deeply into your eyes. "Maybe we'll have to get you one, too, though, so we match."

"Yeah, with your name on it in morse code."

"Exactly... And, hey..." he strokes your cheek with his thumb. "Can I ask you something?"

You nod slowly, completely taken by the romantic look in his soft, brown eyes. "Of course."

"Mind if I kiss you?"

Your face flushes bright red, but you shake your head. "I don't mind at all."

"Good," he says, and leans in. And his lips meet yours.

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orshii · 5 months

Text

The Night We Met (forget me not)

Author: orshii

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x female reader

Warnings: cursing, violence, blood, lots of angst

Word count: 8,7 k

Trope: strangers to lovers

Summary: Kim Hongjoong lived anything but a normal life, his enigmatic presence shrouded in mystery. You were drawn to him when you met him on a strange, rainy night, soaked and with nowhere to go. Despite his guarded nature, a connection formed between you, fueled by curiosity and the allure of the unknown. What will happen when one night he comes home bleeding? Will you unravel the truth behind Hongjoong's enigmatic existence, or will the dangers lurking in the shadows consume you both?

A/N: Since I am very obsessed with red-haired Hongjoong because, he killed me at Coachella bfr, I just felt the urge to write something with him, so this happened. It ended up a little angsty, sorry not sorry, I love writing angst tbh lol. So enjoy the ride, I guess. xoxo, orshii. (also, sorry if there are mistakes :'( ) (divider) horanghae tho

The swaying bodies around me tortured me, I felt like I couldn't breathe as all I could see was him, speaking, and shouting over the loud music, that made my heart break with every strong beat. I couldn't hear the music, all I could hear was the words that came out of his mouth. 'You are sick', 'I'm tired of your shit', 'You'll never be good enough' and it went on and on, these words were the only thing I could hear, I breathed them in and it went straight into my heart, breaking it into thousands of pieces, as nothing remained there only little powerless specks of dust.

He kept on going, glaring at me like I was a wet stray dog on the street. His eyes were full of hatred, the man with whom I fell in love, made me feel special and made me feel good enough, now did the whole opposite of these things, and made me believe I was a fucking nobody. After a little time, as he still spat the most hurtful words out of his mouth, I could see everything in slow motion, the way he spoke and he was angrily shouting at me, his spit landing on my face as he spoke, the dancing bodies around us pushing closer to him, even tho I wanted the opposite. No one really noticed that I was on the verge of breaking down right there, as I barely could breathe. My brain closed him out, I was just staring at him and wondered, where that sweet guy that I fell in love with had gone. Suddenly I felt empty, nothing was on my mind, all I knew was that I wanted to disappear from the world, especially I wanted to get away from him as far as possible. So, whilst he was speaking, suddenly I turned my back without a word and started to somehow push myself out from the bodies that surrounded me.

I felt weak as I bumped into random people, they pushed me from left to right as I barely had any strength. It felt like ages until somehow I could fight myself through the strange bodies. I stepped out of the club into the cold night. I was just standing in front of the exit and closed my eyes shut, I just needed some fresh air, but it couldn't reach my lungs for some reason.

Suddenly I felt something wet and cold landing on my face, followed by a lot of cold drops. I opened my eyes and looked up at the sky, as it started to rain very strongly, immediately wetting my face, and my hair as I suddenly could breathe. It felt like the rain was caressing my face, that felt like invisible hands, cupping my cheeks, wetting my lips, the wet drops dropping down to my chest that melted right into my heart, giving some reassuring feeling. I closed my eyes again holding my head up against the sky, letting the raindrops wet my brain as it kind of brought me back to life and made me realize what just happened, I breathed in as I felt the cold air getting into my lungs slowly, making my body tremble.

That was the exact moment when I broke down. I couldn't hold it any longer, as all the emotions that I cut off when I was in front of him, not letting him see me break, now shuttered into pieces, my breathing got heavy, as I hunched over my knees, and tears suddenly blinding me as I was staring at the wet ground. I was sobbing, tears fell into the wet ground disappearing like it wasn't even there, now I looked like a wet stray dog, that had nowhere to go.

"Everything's alright?" Suddenly I heard a strange voice behind me. After a few deep breaths I tried to calm down, I straightened up and turned around. Just to see a man leaning against the club's brick wall, one of his legs propped on the wall. His clothes were soaked just like mine, as he was holding a cigarette between his thin pierced lips, which were long burned out from the rain, his wet hair that strangely looked like the shade of a deep red that looked like fresh blood, his wet hair would've fallen into his forehead if it wasn't for the black sunglasses that were pushed up to the top of his head, making his forehead free from his hair. He looked at me curiously, eyeing me up and down with a look I couldn't entirely read. Maybe he seemed a little concerned. But that thought immediately made me forget that, when I saw the confident smirk on his face. Just another asshole in this world, that looked at me like I was a nobody.

"Yeah," I said after what felt like an eternity, somehow I almost forgot why I was standing in the rain and cried myself almost to death. I locked my eyes with him, he really didn't seem bothered by the rain pouring at us unstoppably. I wasn't in the mood to chit-chat with a stranger so I turned to get the hell out of there. I did not know where I could go, but I knew that I needed to go somewhere, far away from here.

"It didn't seem like it, sweetheart." He shouted after me, his voice melting with the rain that was falling on us.

"It's none of your business." I turned around to look at him as I shrugged.

Then he pushed himself off the wall and walked towards me, throwing the wet cigarette to the wet floor. I barely saw him because of the rain, but as he closed the distance suddenly all I could see was his face being close to mine. I could see as raindrops dropped from his hair, the water on his veiny neck flew down in red strings, as I assume he died his hair red recently, the wet drops fell from his thin lips as he looked down at me.

"My heart can't take as little girls like you cry in the rain." He slowly reached his hand towards my head and tugged my hair behind my ear. My eyes unconsciously fell on his pierced lips that were so close to mine, that if I had leaned in a little, it could meet his.

I snapped his hands away from my face, and my sanity came back, I couldn't believe there weren't any normal people on earth that couldn't deal with their fucking problems.

He chuckled at my movement. "Why are you so mean, sweetheart?" His smirk still did not disappear.

"Do I look like someone who would let a stranger touch me? And don't call me sweetheart!” I said to him getting angrier. “Oh my God, what did I do to the world." I cried out in disbelief looking up to the sky. I was so soaked, but at that point, I didn’t really feel that I was all wet.

Then suddenly I was sitting in the stranger's car, -whose name was Hongjoong apparently- all soaked, wetting the luxurious car's seating, which was a beautiful raven-black Maserati. I looked at my left side, Hongjoong's side profile on the sight, his undercut showing with the sunglass still being pushed back, which highlighted his sharp jawline. The dye on his neck now dried leaving red marks there. He was a very handsome and apparently a rich stranger. I have no idea why was I even in his car, as we were heading toward his apartment. Because I had nowhere to go.

Long story short, I kind of told him everything about what happened on this tragic night with my life. My ex dumped me because he thought I was cheating on him, the reality was that he was cheating on me and he just blamed it all on me, saying I was the problem as I couldn't keep him excited so he needed to try if someone else could. What kind of bullshit is that?

I was living with him, my parents were far away on another continent, I moved here because of my, well, now ex, and started to work at a random café, just so that I could start a painting course, as my biggest dream to achieve was to be a known painter. I wanted to organize exhibitions where I could put my paintings out, to show them to the world, to show my emotions through the paintings, so other people might feel the same, and share common feelings.

Painting was the only thing that understood me. When I was painting I felt like it was my therapy, the way I traced the brush on the canvas, with different kinds of colors. I always painted my emotions on the white canvas, which in the end, always ended dark, full of black and red colors. As those were the representations of my emotions. I felt pain, just as the word painting symbolized my whole being. But there were times, very rarely, when I painted a whole rainbow on the canvas, as something good happened that day. It was always personal, I wasn't the kind of person, who painted lands and random vases with fruits next to them. I just painted what I felt, it always came out like a mess, like chaos, but there was something beautiful in it, something special.

I always felt vulnerable when I showed it to people, but in the end, it's only me who knows what it is about. People only see random colors and shapes, that are a little grotesque, some of them are amazed by, how artistic it is, but some of them are just looking at it frowning, as they only see a splash of colors, saying 'I could do that easily, it's only a bunch of colors poured right there'. It is hurtful hearing things like that when it's my emotions that are painted there in a physical form. But I think it is only you, yourself, who can understand the struggles you are going through.

So as I was dumped by my ex, I remained alone. I was kind of new in the town and I didn't know anyone besides him and a bunch of his ass friends. I had nowhere to go, as I didn’t want to see his face anymore.

Hongjoong…kind of made me tell him these things, and he offered I can stay at his place, while I figure out what can I do in the future. The rain stopped after a while as we sat in his car and I told him all these things like I had known him for ages, he was listening to me and I could see on his face he cared for some questionable reasons. I had no idea why he offered this in the first place, and I had no idea why the hell did I agree. Even tho he seemed like an asshole for the first seeing, when he genuinely asked me what was the problem, I kind of felt like I can tell him anything I want and I kind of blame it on my fucked up day and on the fact that I was tired, I was tired of people, whom I always wanted to be good enough, but I just failed all the time. And now, it seemed I could trust in a stranger more than everybody.

As soon as we arrived at his apartment, which was a penthouse, my jaw was on the floor when I looked around. Everything was luxurious, most of the furniture was surprisingly black, with a hint of dark red, just like his car and his hair. It really did suit him. I had no idea who this man was, but I am sure he was rich as hell.

After Hongjoong showed me the guest room and gave me clothes that I could change into, he left me alone so I could shower. In the bathroom, I still couldn’t comprehend where I was and what exactly happened. It only came in a big flow when I managed to lay down into the big king-sized bed, that was so soft I felt like I was going to disappear into it.

I was laying on my right side and hugged my knees to my chest, just so I could hug something, something that gave me enough comfort, whispering to myself everything is going to be alright, as I finally managed to fall asleep with tears flowing down my face.

The next few weeks went by just like seconds, my only escape was work and painting as it mostly occupied my mind. Hoshi, my ex, tried to talk to me a few times after work when I was closing up, but Hongjoong always came to pick me up, after the first time he heard my ex was there.

It was really odd, the way he was acting, acting like he wanted to protect me from the world, even tho he didn't know me. And I didn't know him either, but as we spent these few days together, we kind of grew closer to each other, I felt like he became a person whom I could rely on.

I needed to figure out what to do next, because I did not want to bother Hongjoong with my poor ass, living in his penthouse like a princess, as he did not accept any money for the rent. Even tho I barely had money, I still wanted to make it up to him, so instead of money, I decided to clean the flat when I had the time and to cook for him some delicious meals, like a freaking maid, but quid pro quo.

I'm not going to say that Hongjoong didn’t act suspiciously from time to time. Because that would be a lie. The times when he suddenly came into the apartment with blood on his face and slight stabs on his body, painting his body red here and there, made me realize he was into some dangerous games. Luckily I learned how to stitch wounds when I was in high school, as back then I wanted to be a doctor, not until I found painting.

It was again a rainy dark night when the front door closed with a loud thump. I ran out to the living room, where the storm outside lightened it up in slow-motion, just to see a collapsed Hongjoong on the floor. The white carpet under him was now full of blood, that looked like the color of his hair. My heart started to race, as I hurried next to him.

"Hongjoong!" I kneeled next to him, just to cup his face and check his heartbeat. It was still beating but very weekly. I was so scared he might die in my arms.

"Sweetheart" He mumbled faintly, reaching his hands to my wrists that held his face. He was looking up at me with desperate eyes, almost begging me to save him.

He did come back with some stitches here and there, but this was much deeper. As I slowly reached my hands towards his wet white T-shirt that was mixed with rain and blood, I lifted it very slowly, he winced at that painfully.

I let out a quiet gasp when I saw the wound, it was a bullet lodging into his abdomen. Tears started to flow down my face, as I tried to think, about what to do now.

"I'm going to call an ambulance!" I wanted to stand up, to get my phone, but Hongjoong suddenly grabbed my wrist.

"You can't, you have to do it yourself, sweetheart." His voice still came out weak, like he was breathing his last breaths.

"But the bullet is too deep, I can't-" I started to breathe heavily, as I ran my fingers through my hair, squeezing it, as I started to panic. His life depended on me. "I can't do this Hongjoong." I sobbed.

"Come here." As I leaned closer to him, he caressed my cheeks, wiped my tears away with his weak thumb, and looked at me like he had given his life into my hands, and that was literally the case. "You can do it, I trust you, sweetheart." He whispered, weekly, as his hand suddenly dropped to the floor weekly and his eyes closed.

He was unconscious. I needed to put myself together and save the life of the man who saved mine.

The next hours were full of me trying to get the bullet out somehow, I needed every kind of knowledge I learned in the past. Everything was full of blood, the carpet, my hands, my clothes, but all I could concentrate on was to clean the wound, get the bullet out, stitch it carefully, and hope that he did not die. After I finished and his heart was still beating somehow I felt relief going through my body. His body just needed some rest, so it could function again.

When I cleaned up and somehow with all my strength, I managed to lift him to the grey couch and put a warm blanket on him, as he was sweating like crazy because he had a fever. I kneeled next to the couch pressing a wet cloth to his forehead hoping his fever was going to drop. He was fighting for his life and I was praying he could make it alive, as I finally gave in to the dark that swallowed me completely.

I was dreaming of some dark figures that were chasing after me, and then I suddenly found myself on a field, where I saw a red-haired man's back facing me, he was standing between the colorful flowers. Then he suddenly turned and I saw Hongjoong's beautiful smile as he was calling me to follow him.

I felt as if someone pushed me weakly, a voice calling me. Sweetheart. Only one person calls me like that. I quickly came to my senses and lifted my head from the couch I was still kneeling beside it, my limbs numb I barely could move, but the only person that mattered was Hongjoong.

"Hey," I smiled at the survivor, as he was looking at me weekly, his mouth dry.

"Hi", his lips cornered up with a weak attempt.

"How are you feeling?" I scooted upper, so I could caress his face with my thumb.

"Better." He whispered, with a dry throat. As I noticed, I quickly went to pour water into a glass and took some painkillers to give it to him.

"Here, drink some." I slowly helped him up as he was wincing from the pain. I reached the pills to his mouth waiting for him to open it and then the glass so he could drink. After a few gulps from the water, he closed his eyes.

"Thank you, Y/N! You saved my life, I knew you could do it." He slowly opened his eyes and looked at me gratefully.

"Even tho, it was a very bad call from you…You could've died Hongjoong…" Tears started to appear in my eyes as I looked down at my hands.

"But I'm alive…thanks to you, sweetheart. Come here." He took my hands and slowly pulled me closer to him, as he laid down, leaving space for me beside him.

"I don’t want to hurt you." I hesitated a little.

"You won’t hurt me." His thumb traced my cheek and looked at me with affectionate eyes. At that I slowly laid next to him on my side, trying not to be too close to his wound. I was looking at him, and as he did the same, I saw his eyelids were closing, but he forced them open, so he could pull me closer to him by my waist. His face was inches apart from mine. I felt his hot breath on my lips, as he slowly ghosted over mine.

"Kiss me so I won't feel the pain." He whispered the words into my lips, his lips almost touching mine, I could feel his cold piercing on his lips. My heart was racing like crazy. Suddenly all my thoughts were gone, gone into the cold rainy night, as he pressed his lips against mine weekly, giving me control, so I could lead him out of the pain and he wouldn't feel anything. All I wanted to do was to take his pain away, to swallow it, so I could feel it instead of him. My lips moved against his slowly, very patiently, making him forget that he was in pain. He grabbed my waist and pulled me even closer to him, with his remaining strength. But he moaned into my lips from the pain that the movement caused. I wanted to separate from him to make sure he was okay. But he did not let me, he reached his hands to my nape and pulled me closer, suddenly getting some strength from who knows where, as I let him control the kiss again. It started to get more heated, as I separated from him, because of the lack of oxygen.

I looked at him like I couldn't believe he was right there, in pain but still kissing me.

"Sleep now, honey." I whispered at his lips, pecking them again, then moving to his sharp cheekbone, to his nose, then lastly I left feather-like kisses on his eyelids that were already closed, falling into a deep healing sleep.

After a few days of nursing Hongjoong, I was heading back from the grocery store to Hongjoong's apartment. His wound was healing perfectly, it just needed a little more time. He was only able to walk from his room to the balcony to smoke a pack of cigarettes. I asked a lot of times, what had happened, and who did that to him, but he always ignored me or changed the topic. After all, I was just a stranger to him, and he took me in because I was all soaked and I had nowhere to go. Even tho we kissed, that seemed like a fever dream.

But still, he was so protective of me, he did not let me go anywhere alone, and his friends lifted me to work and back, I didn’t even have the opportunity to paint as the painting courses were late at night, and he did not let me outside for some weird reason. He even insisted he was coming with me to the store that was just a few blocks away from his apartment, but I convinced him that it wasn't that far and I was going to be quick.

I was only one block away from the penthouse when suddenly all I could feel was cold hands around my throat and something cold being pressed against my temple. My back was pushed against a wall with an impact, I saw black points as I closed my eyes.

"Where is Captain?" The man who pressed me against the wall forcefully hissed through his yellow teeth.

His hand squeezed my throat with more force. Even if I wanted to talk, words just couldn't leave my mouth as the air was knocked out of my lungs, and my sight started to blur.

"I asked, where is Captain? I am sure you know it, little slut." He shouted at my face, spit landing on my face, as I closed my eyes, trying to scrape his hand off my throat. He pressed the cold thing harder against my temple, it was a gun. I didn't know who Captain was, but I had a very little clue, of who it could be.

The man was on the verge of hitting me with the handle of the gun when suddenly I felt the air getting into my lungs as the man was pushed off me. I hunched over trying to get some air into my lungs as I desperately needed it. My throat felt soar, my heart was pumping like it wanted to jump out from my chest, and I felt the urge to take my hands to my chest just to prevent it from jumping out. I couldn't catch up with the noises that were around me, some shouting and groaning noises that screamed pain. Then suddenly silence came. I slowly straightened up as I finally came to my senses, and tried to get what was happening. I didn't even realize the fact that a gun was pressed against my head, I didn't even realize I could've died. Our mind is a tricky thing, sometimes it is helpful, and sometimes it's our biggest enemy. But for my luck, as I straightened, I saw Yunho in front of me, one of Hongjoong's friends, who picked me up from work a few times. He was a tall, black-haired man, with a well-defined body, who looked intimidating at first, but after a few times as we always chatted the way home, it turned out, he was the sweetest guy ever, full of golden retriever energy.

"Are you okay?" Yunho came closer to me and carefully put his hands on my shoulders, looking at me with concerned eyes. That was the time when I looked down at his hands, that was all bloody, his knuckles full with stitches, then I averted my gaze to his face, which was all beaten up, his lips also bleeding, a cut on his cheekbone. Then I looked down next to us, where four men were laying unconscious, it was a slow process until I somehow put the puzzle together. He knocked out four men with his bare hands only.

"Yeah, I'm okay." I said quietly, my mind full of questions. "Who were they? They asked about someone called… Captain? Is that Hongjoong?"

Yunho's eyes were full of pity. "I'm sorry, Y/N, it isn’t me who should tell you these things." He turned around and went to his black Jeep, which was hurriedly parked on the sidewalk. "Let's get you back to Hongjoong." He said tilting his head a little.

I went to the car and sat in the passenger seat. "How did you know I was in trouble?" My voice felt sour a little, as I still felt the hand around my throat.

"Hongjoong told me to follow you, in case something would happen." He said, not even daring to look at me.

I scoffed at that and remained silent. I didn't know what the hell was happening. Is it normal to send someone so he can watch over you? Is it normal in Kim Hongjoong's life to be attacked? It was, based on the bullet that almost sent him to the other world and me, almost. Kim Hongjoong lived anything but a normal life.

Immediately as I closed the front door, Hongjoong hurried in front of me, pain running through his features that disappeared immediately when he saw me. He quickly came closer to me, worry taking over his painful features. He was eyeing me up and down searching for any injuries. Hongjoong cupped my cheeks and lifted my head.

"Fuck, Y/N, did you get injured?" He traced his right hand through my throat which was red from the choking. I just shook my head as a no, I was glaring at him, analyzing his features that changed between so many emotions, as his gaze remained at my throat, just to finally meet my glare.

"I told you not to go alone, for fuck's sake, Y/N!" He stepped away from me ran his finger through his red hair and squeezed it.

"Did you know someone would attack me? Hongjoong tell me something 'cause I have no idea what is happening." I looked at him with desperate eyes, trying to convince him, that he could tell me anything.

"No, I didn't know, but I felt it was going to happen." He turned his back to me and started to walk up and down in the living room. Then he stopped in front of the big window, where you could see the whole town, being busy, everyone living their normal life. He buried his hands into his face. I could see that his thoughts were screaming at him. A few minutes of silence fell between us. I was just waiting for him to collect his thoughts.

"You have to move out." His voice came out low, I barely could understand it. He didn’t even look at me, he was staring down at the city buried in mist.

My heart started to race, I knew, I knew I needed to move out at some point as I couldn't live here forever. But…it felt weird, months of being here, getting used to each other in ups and downs. And this coming from his mouth, I don't know why…but it hurt.

"Joong…" I stepped closer to him, slowly approaching him. "At least tell me what is going on. They asked about some Captain…is that you?" He was still standing in front of the window, his side profile was sharp, and his red hair seemed brighter as the sun was shining at him, giving it a little shade of orange, he was frowning as he was still thinking. But when he turned, all the emotions were gone from his features, I couldn't see any signs of the prior emotions that were running through his face.

He was glaring at me sharply very determined. "They are going to hurt you if you stay with me, just pack your things and I'll take you somewhere." He said with a commanding voice, that shouted he did not accept no as an answer. I was just looking at him, making sure he really meant it, but he held my gaze without blinking. Tears started to appear in my eyes from all the sudden emotions and from the thoughts of being alone again. I couldn't do anything other than to obey him.

After I quietly packed my things into a bag, this was all I had, I could pack my whole life into a black dirty bag. This bag was by my side all the time, not like the people, who always left me.

The ride to the place Hongjoong was driving us, was quiet. The sun hid behind the big, angry clouds and slowly raindrops started to drop at the windshield. I just leaned my head against the window and stared at the raindrops that were racing against each other on the glass. My mind was empty, I couldn't think. I felt Hongjoong's eyes on me at times, but I just couldn't look at him, because I felt like I might break then.

When we arrived and went up to the apartment that was also Hongjoong's, I stood in the living room and dropped the beg from my hand as I looked around. It was smaller than the penthouse, it was just an ordinary flat, with white furniture, as you stepped in, the living room was an open area with a kitchen. I saw two doors that I assumed were the bedroom and the bathroom. It was small and cozy, but I'm not sure if it will stay like that when I'm going to be left alone with my thoughts. I felt his gaze on my back and I turned around, finally looking into his eyes. Tears immediately started to appear in my eyes, I knew it was a goodbye, and I hated goodbyes. He slowly approached me, his eyes never leaving mine. His hands traced over my cheekbones, wiping the tear away that escaped along the way, then he traced his thumb over my lips, carefully as he was afraid he might break me. But it was too late cause I was already broken.

He slowly replaced his thumb with his thin lips, the piercing on his lips cutting my lips, the stinging racing down to my heart, he cupped my face and pulled me into a passionate kiss, that screamed, it was good 'til it lasted. Tears fell onto my face, falling on our lips as I felt the salty taste. He moved his lips against mine as he wanted to endure this moment for the rest of his life. My heart was aching, I felt like a knife was stabbed directly into my heart.

"You have to forget me, sweetheart." He whispered painfully onto my lips, as he leaned his forehead against mine, his words twisting the knife in my heart.

"But I don't want to." I shook my head, grabbing his wrists that still held my face. The tears never stopped rolling down my face.

"You have to, you are capable of anything, my heart." His eyes were full of adoration, that I never saw in his eyes, caressing my cheeks for the last time as he stepped away from me.

I shook my head as I cried out, I felt like my heart was going to stop at any time. "No, don't leave me Hongjoong…" My voice came out weak, it was barely audible as my crying got worse.

But all he did was turn around, without any emotion. "Goodbye, sweetheart!" and I was left alone again.

My legs gave up and I fell on the ground as I pressed my hands to my mouth just to somehow calm myself down. After all, he was just someone, who helped me out when needed. In these few months, I felt like finally I was heading in the right direction, I felt like I was finally stepping on the right road toward my dreams. Being with Hongjoong made me realize, that everyone deserves someone, who can support them, who can be by their side and give them some bits of advice, to keep them going. But destiny said, no, and I needed to move forward. My life was a never-ending circle, I always found someone who I trusted but eventually, they just treated me like I was some garbage. In the end, I was always alone, being left alone with my bag, to go somewhere else.

The next few weeks were all about painting. When I felt down, I always escaped into painting. At first, I was just staring into the white canvas in the building where the painting courses were held, I wanted to paint, but I didn't feel anything at all. I thought I was going to paint all the existing canvases in the world based on the emotions that I felt. But, when I found myself sitting in front of a big white canvas, I felt empty. I felt like I was there but at the same time, my mind was elsewhere.

As I closed my eyes, the dream that I dreamed the night when Hongjoong collapsed on the floor with a bullet in him, jumped in front of me. I saw his face, his smile that was rare to see. The warm breeze blew on his hair, lifting his red hair from his forehead. I saw him again in slow-motion as he turned around just to look into his eyes, he lifted his hand, inviting me to go with him. As I slowly approached him and reached my hands to take it, he disappeared.

I opened my eyes as I found myself in reality, facing with the white canvas and I saw an image on it, a face. I lifted my brush to the colors that were laid out in front of me and pushed it into the red color, just to lift it in front of the canvas. I drew one line with the red color and it was the most beautiful thing I saw in my life. The way it excelled on the white canvas fascinated me, it was a deep shade of red, that reminded me of Hongjoong's red hair, but then the blood that was all over the place that night. I kept drawing on the canvas, tracing the brush in shapes, switching between colors as my mind finally felt at ease. I never felt more calmer than now, as I didn't even realize what I was painting. I closed the world out and continued to paint the picture I was imagining in my head.

Who knows how much time went by, I didn't want to stop for even a moment, as I was desperate to finish this work, the work that brought me peace, that calmed my racing thoughts, that made me feel like I wasn't alone. I painted the last remaining white spot on the canvas with black and then I put my brush down, just to see the outcome. I inhaled through my mouth deeply, as I felt this was the first time I breathed through the whole painting.

The outcome was nothing compared to my recent paintings. It wasn't some random colors mixed, that had no shape at all.

It showed a scene, a scene that I saw with my own eyes. And it was the night I met with him. The background was all black, with different shades and a figure was leaning against the black wall, his right leg propped up to the wall, the cigarette lazily hanging from his pierced thin lips. His red hair was all wet from the rain that fell on him, it was pushed back with a black sunglass. The red dye was leaving red strings on his face, on his veiny neck. His black clothes were all soaked, and still, he was staring at me with eyes that screamed understanding, that was full of worry.

I never painted things like these, things that made sense, well not for others. It made me believe that Hongjoong started something in me, that I had never imagined I had.

The doorbell suddenly rang just after I arrived home after a tiring day at work. I changed into comfortable clothes, wearing a black hoodie and grey sweatpants. I wanted to make some dinner for myself when I heard the sound of the doorbell. I frowned, I really didn't know anyone here, maybe the neighbor came to welcome me.

I went to the door a little hesitantly, then unlocked it and when I opened it, I froze. It was Hoshi, my ex, glaring at me with his typical sharp eyes, that always reminded me of a tiger. His platinum blonde hair was always shaped perfectly, it was similar to a buzz cut, two straight strings falling close to his eyes, which made his gaze and features even sharper. He was always wearing punk clothes, with a lot of silver accessories.

"What are you doing here?" I asked when I finally found my voice. I needed all my confidence.

"Hi, baby." He smirked at me and just pushed me away to get into the apartment, letting himself inside.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Hoshi?" I was amazed by his behavior, he acted casually, went to my kitchen, poured some water for himself, making himself at home.

"Can't I just see my girl?" He turned and leaned against the counter with the glass of water, eyeing me up and down like a predator.

"Fuck you Hoshi! Don't tell me bullshit. Just tell me why are you here!" I lifted my voice up, it sounded angrier as I couldn't believe this man.

"Woah, easy, girl." He put the glass on the counter, just to come closer to where I was standing. "I just came to apologize." He reached his hands towards my waist, but I immediately stepped away from him. I saw that he needed to hold back himself from doing something wrong at that moment. "Okay." He lifted his hands to the air. "I just wanted to say that I feel bad about how I behaved at the club, you disappeared, Y/N. I didn't know where have you gone." His voice came out a little trembled, and his eyes were full of worry, but I knew it was just an act, an act so I will go back to him. I didn't say anything, but he didn't even let me when he continued.

"But I found out you were with that fucking red-haired shorty." His features suddenly changed from worried to angry. I had never seen him like this, it scared me.

He slowly came closer to me, just like a tiger that approached its prey. "Had fun fucking around with the Captain?" He looked like a psycho as he asked.

My heart rate picked up as I stepped back, just until my back hit the wall behind me. "How do you know him?"

As he was inches apart from me, he slowly reached his right hand towards my chest and traced his fingers on my skin, up to my neck, his gaze on his fingers. My chest was rising as shivers ran through my body, but these weren't the good types of shivers, it was because I felt terrified.

"Oh, you don't know a lot, babe." His fingers slowly traced up to my jaw and cheekbones. All I wanted to do was to run away from him. I felt disgusted, but he caged me against the wall, I had no chance.

"Then tell me." My voice came out rough, as I wanted to convince him I wasn't afraid of him.

"Well, that little redhead, is a fucking mafia leader. I didn't know you were into mafia gangs." He stepped away from me, as I finally could let out a sigh. "Stupid, Hoshi." He hit his forehead, with a psychotic smile. "If I would've known, I would've told you that I'm a mafia leader as well. Then you wouldn’t have run away." He approached me again, pushing me up against the wall. His face was inches apart from mine. I couldn't believe what he said. There was no fucking way I managed to catch both the town's mafia leaders. What happened with my life?

I scoffed at that, it was a joke. "You? As a mafia leader, you are funny Hoshi." I laughed into his face, as he got more annoyed.

"Did you have fun, when I sent my gang to threaten you so you will tell them where that fucker is?" He whispered it close to my face, his fingers crawling around my throat and squeezing it. My eyes rounded immediately, as my hands automatically tried to tear his hands off. "You had to fuck my only enemy that existed? I hate him, he destroyed my life, he took everything away." He hissed through his teeth.

"I'm asking again, nicely, Y/N. Where - is - he?" He squeezed his fingers more around my throat, as tears fell on my face, blurring my vision.

"Wh-where is that H-Hoshi I loved…" My voice came out weak, as I slowly saw black dots in my vision that were already blurred.

"He never existed." And with that, he squeezed my throat harder, as I was in desperate need of air, but it never came.

I was on the verge of fainting when sudden noises came from the staircase. The door was suddenly slammed open with a loud thump, all I could hear was footsteps, and my vision went black.

Hoshi's hands were gone from my throat, and I fell to the ground, barely conscious. I heard loud noises that my brain couldn't comprehend, glass breaking, shouting and when I opened my eyes weakly, I saw red. My vision was blurry, but when it cleared out I saw him and I knew I was safe.

He was holding me in his warm arms on the floor, my body was shaking from the lack of oxygen and the overwhelming emotions. He hugged me, as I buried my face into his chest, inhaling his peaceful scent, which always calmed me down. He traced my back up and down and pecked the top of my head, my forehead.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart for leaving you alone." His voice seemed like he was on the verge of breaking.

I slowly lifted my head up to look into his eyes, and I met with two eyes full of regretful tears. My tears started to flow down my face at that, as I started sobbing.

"Please, forgive me." He cupped my cheeks and wiped my tears away with his thumb. "Shh, don't cry please because my heart breaks. You are my heart, Y/N." He leaned his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and breathed in and out, just to get myself together. This man in front of me, who was only a stranger to me, in a short time became the most important person in my life.

"Don't you ever dare, leaving me." I whispered after a few seconds that felt like ages.

He smiled in relief, his smile looked exactly like in my dream, his lips curved up, and his nose scrunched. "I am never going to leave you, sweetheart."

He slowly reached his hands under my knees, just to lift me from the ground, my hand immediately curled around his neck, as he brought me to the bedroom and carefully took me down to the bed. He crawled next to me as we were both on our sides, facing each other. He reached his hand towards my face and caressed it as if we were just looking at each other.

"This time that I spent without you was hell." he tugged my hair behind my ear as he said. "I realized I can't live without you, Y/N. I never felt like this before. I got scared when those bastards attacked you, and I never felt this scared before in my life. I thought if I keep you away from me they won't hurt you. Please, forgive me." Tears started to appear in his eyes, that screamed regret.

I took his hand from my face and lifted it to my mouth, to carefully peck his warm palm. "It's okay, Hongjoong, I get why you did it. But you could've at least told me who you were." I looked at him weakly, as I felt more and more tired.

"I know." He scooted closer to me, holding my waist as he pulled me closer to him. "I was just terrified if you find out, you will run away from me." He said with a low voice, leaning his forehead against mine.

"I never would've run away, don't you remember how many times I stitched you up?" I smiled at him.

He chuckled at that sweetly. "Yeah, that would've been enough reason for you to run. But for some reason, you didn't." He frowned at that.

"I just couldn't leave you, even tho you acted weird all the time, I felt like I needed to be by your side." I wanted to tell him that I was going to be by his side forever.

"I want you to be by my side, sweetheart. I never felt more at ease than I was when you were with me." His lisp was inches apart from mine, as he whispered. "Being with me is going to be dangerous, but I'm going to do everything to protect you." He said as he pressed his lips against mine, capturing it as I could slip through his holding. His fingers reached to my neck, to the back of my nape just to run his fingers through my hair, pulling me impossibly close to him. I kissed him back desperate, with passion I never felt in my life. I never wanted to break the kiss, that tasted like happiness, that whispered good promises for the future.

2 months later

"I want to show you something." Hongjoong hugged me from behind on the balcony where I was standing with a coffee mug in my hands. His hands crawled around my waist pulling me close to his chest, his head on my shoulder as we both were looking down to the busy town from his penthouse.

"What?" I asked with a genuine smile.

He pecked my neck sweetly before turning me around and taking my hands. "Come I'll show it to you." He was smiling at me like he seemed the happiest and most excited man on earth.

When we were in his black Maserati and I looked at him while driving, I could see that his smile never disappeared he was so excited for some reason and I started to get nervous as hell. After a fifteen-minute drive, we arrived somewhere. I didn't know about this side of the city. The streets were very artistic, with a lot of graffiti on some random walls, and artists were standing on the streets singing or painting. I looked around curious as I stepped out of the car. Hongjoong rounded the car and took my hand.

"Where are we Hongjoong?" I looked at him with a frown.

He just smiled at me, his perfect-white teeth showing. "I have to blindfold you, sweetheart. I don't want to expose the surprise." He took a silk blindfold from his pocket and chuckled as he saw my confused face.

"Just trust me, love." His voice came out low as he pecked my lips sweetly and blindfolded me.

He was leading me around, as I couldn't see anything. We went through a door, and the street's noise faded away. Our footsteps were echoing on the strange floor as we walked inside. Suddenly Hongjoong stopped me, as he turned me to face him. He reached his hands to unfold the silk material, as it slowly fell on the floor. My eyes followed how it fell on the floor, which was made out of brown marble. Then my gaze lifted, just look around where we were. My mouth fell open, it was a big and empty hall with big windows, where the light came inside, lighting the emptiness inside. The walls were all white, the ceiling was meters away from us, and it was huge.

"Why are we here?" I asked after my gaze fell on Hongjoong, who was looking at me the whole time.

He stepped closer to me, to hold my waist and pull me closer to him. His face was inches away. "This is your gallery where you can exhibit your paintings." He said with an excited smile, waiting for my reaction.

I pressed my hands to my mouth, my eyes rounded unbelievably "No way." Tears appeared in my eyes.

"Yes way, sweetheart." Hongjoong giggled seeing my reaction. "I want you to show the world how talented you are." He caressed my cheeks as he said with a sweet and proud look on his face.

I couldn't believe this. "Hongjoong…" tears started to fall to my cheeks, as I started to jump in excitement just to jump on Hongjoong who was taken aback by my sudden movement, but he caught me in time. He lifted me to spin us around as we both chuckled like two teenagers.

"Thank you so much Hongjoong." I whispered to his ear when he took me down and I buried my face to his chest. "I couldn't be grateful enough for making my dreams come true." I lifted my head to face him.

He was looking down at me with the proudest smile. "I'm happy I can be by your side while you achieve your dreams." He cupped my face and pecked my lips as I giggled.

"I love you, Hongjoong." I said looking up at him with teary eyes, as I never felt happier in my life.

"I love you more, sweetheart." And with that, he kissed me passionately like never before, his lips moved against mine slowly, as we were standing in the gallery that was going to hold all the emotions I felt in the past years, so I could finally let them go. And that one portrayal of Kim Hongjoong, that promised me a good future by his side.

The portrayal that showed the first time I saw him, the first time I fell in love with him, on the night we met.

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