#I've been trying to think of a good summary for this fic series and have still not found it yet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

n0vazsq · 1 month ago

Text

My love, mine all mine | OB87 x Reader

pairing . . . ollie bearman x barca!femeni!reader

summary . . . After Ollie gets a sudden interest in the Barca Femeni team, fans connect the dots and reach the conclusion that he has a crush on you. So when they start tagging you on his posts, he has no choice but to confess and ask you out

request . . . no!!

word count . . . N/A

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . sydney schertenleib and girls from pin!

alexavia yaps . . . guys idk why the fic is lowkey ass 💔🥀 hope yall enjoyed tho bc i'm gonna die for like another 2 weeks. requests open currently for oneshot req (for the mini fic series)

olliebearman

liked by kimi.antonelli, pepemartiofficial, isackhadjar and 1.3M others

olliebearman photodump from yesterday! congrats to the fcbfemeni team for winning and great job to yourusername on getting potm!

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username1 ollie is a culer ?!?!

username2 that food looks so good im salivating

username3 HES SO PRETTYYYY

username4 holy fuck he watches women's football?? yourusername we found you a match

username5 gorgeous

username6 stop i checked the girl he mentioned shes so pretty

username7 js checked and my GOD shes stunning

username8 OLLIE???

username9 i cant wait to see the y/n match updates bc i know for a fact this man will tag her in all his upcoming posts like yourusername at least follow him

kimi.antonelli why the sudden interest in the barcelona women's team

olliebearman i've been a fan since i was 4.

kimi.antonelli "kimi why'd no one tell me to watch women's football before" sent yesterday at 10:13 pm

olliebearman ...

pepemartiofficial ollie got exposed for lying 😂

olliebearman SHUT UP pepe

kimi.antonelli next thing we know he's buying match tickets and travelling to spain

isackhadjar the thing is i think he did do it

kimi.antonelli did you, ollie?

olliebearman i'd rather stay quiet

kimi.antonelli oh my god he did it

username10 how does it feel to have a chance, oliver

username11 their conversations are so funny im sobbing

username12 the rookies always have me tearing up from laughing

username13 screaming crying throwing up yourusername i'm begging you look at this

username14 im giggling at their comments

username15 i need more football content ASAP

username16 can y/n or wtv fight

gabrielbortoleto_ i heard ollie was being a loverboy

olliebearman who told you that ??

kimi.antonelli me

olliebearman of course it was you

gabrielbortoleto_ she's out of your league bro

olliebearman no one asked you gabi

isackhadjar he isn't lying

olliebearman all of you shut up and click off this post

kimi.antonelli someone's in a mood

username17 HELPP KIMI AND OLLIE I LOVE YOU

username18 man im itching to get people to ship them yourusername please look at this

username19 im never shutting about this for like another 18 centuries like my goat y/n x my goat ollie this is a grand event in history

username20 watch her ignore him like she did with that other guy i forgot his name

username21 do you mean hector

username20 yeah i think so

username22 poor hector catching strays 😭

username23 man doesn't even know people are making fun of him

username24 whos ollie im here for y/n

username25 hes a f1 racer for haas f1 team

username26 some random racer idk hes not important y/n is

username27 dislike people like yall

username28 oh to be in a relationship with him

pepemartiofficial if only you were catalonian and personally knew her...

olliebearman .

olliebearman do you know how annoying you are

isackhadjar pepe you should show him that picture of you two at your parents' house eating arroz con leche

kimi.antonelli LMFAO

olliebearman this is what i get for being nice

olliebearman btw i know that didn't happen you're just trying to have a go at me

isackhadjar worked didn't it?

pepemartiofficial i should ask y/n to take a picture of me at my parents' house eating arroz con leche

gabrielbortoleto_ ollie would probably rage and start crying

kimi.antonelli or he'll have a fussy tantrum like a toddler

olliebearman ALL OF YOU GET OUT

username29 i need to know when where shes going to be so i can attach myself to her and fight off ollie

username30 DIED. DECEASED. GONE. ROTTING.

NEW NOTIFICATION: olliebearman has started following you !

NEW NOTIFICATION: kimi.antonelli, isackhadjar and gabrielbortoleto_ have started following you !

NEW NOTIFICATION: username187, username9181 and 165K others have started following you !

yourusername

liked by olliebearman, fcbfemeni, lamineyamal and 1.4M others

yourusername day out in my favourite city

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username30 y/n you have me on my KNEES

username31 what id pay to be whoever is dating her

alexiaputellas nina bonita Comment liked by creator

yourusername ahh gracias alexia <3 you're prettier

alexiaputellas all you hermosa

username32 OKAY OKAY I SEE THE VISION

username33 shes so pretty omgggg

username34 idk if i want to be y/n or be with y/n

username35 holy shit shes so gorgeous

username36 came here for ollie stayed for y/n

yourbsf woah youre so hot

yourusername youre hotter

yourbsf nahhh youre way hotter

yourbsf but yk who is hotter than all of us

yourusername oh god not again

yourbsf i texted you the name 😈

yourusername i was expecting it

yourbsf when will you text him

yourusername never

yourusername and don't even try to convince me

yourbsf someday y/n, you two will be out together in love and you'll be thanking me

yourusername no

yourbsf yes

yourusername sigh i deserve better friends

yourbsf reminder that i'm the one who showed you his pictures

yourusername yeah yeah i said he's cute

yourbsf you better think so

username37 man i love them

username38 HELP THE DATING LORE IS INSANE

username39 did yourbsf just expose them or

username40 i feel like im intruding reading the comments between them

pepemartiofficial sooo you know who he is

yourusername i do because SOMEONE forced me to look at his pictures

yourbsf ey ey ey don't involve me in this

yourusername i'm glad you know it's you since i didn't mention names

pepemartiofficial next time we meet i'm giving you both a run down on everything

yourusername good that you told me so i don't meet up with you

yourbsf see pepe? this is what i told you about

pepemartiofficial y/n you're too stubborn give him a chance

yourusername over my dead body

yourbsf guess we'll have to kill her, won't we, pepemartiofficial

pepemartiofficial guess so

yourusername i can't believe i'm best friends with both of you

username41 Y/N IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH???

username42 THE PICS??? HELLO??? EXCLUSIVE SUBSCRIPTION??? EXCUSE ME??? HOWS SHE SO PRETYY??

username43 how is she so good looking

username44 the face card is INSANE

username45 I NEED HER SO BADLY UGHHHHHHH

username46 STOP where is that juice stand at the end i'm salivating

username47 need me some juice like that

username48 who tf is ollie and why'd he like before me

username49 some rando who thinks he has a chance

username50 bro thinks he's hector 💀

username51 if my gf aint like this ion want her

olliebearman you're very gorgeous

pepemartiofficial damn no reply no like no acknoledgement

olliebearman close that mouth before i close it for you

pepemartiofficial okay bro no need to throw a tantrum 😭

username52 the way she ignored him HELPPPP

username53 y/n yourusername give this young man a chance

username54 so um whens the wedding

username55 when will she acknowledge him more like

username56 yourbsf fans living the life we knew about this before all of you

username57 im sighing dreamily at these pictures

username58 THE PICS.

username59 giggling blushing and kicking my feet

username60 when will y/n post more y/n sigh

NEW NOTIFICATION: olliebearman has liked 29 of your posts and 45 highlights !

NEW NOTIFICATION: olliebearman has added you to their close friends !

olliebearman

liked by gabrielbortoleto_, kimi.antonelli, isackhadjar and 2.1M others

olliebearman iconic. Tagged: fcbfemeni, yourusername

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username61 Y/N LET HIM HIT HES A PROPER SIMP yourusername

username62 people DIED (i'm people)

username63 THE LOOK OF LOVE

username64 THE RUSH OF BLOOD

username65 THE SHES WITH ME IS THE GALLIC SHURG

username66 he and y/n is not a want its a NEED

username67 GIRL COME HERE yourusername

username68 i just KNOW their kids will be BEAUTIFUL

username69 face card never declined

username70 and never will

kimi.antonelli so you're a big football guy now aren't you

pepemartiofficial bet he watches all matches

gabrielbortoleto_ probably analyses the plays

isackhadjar he 100% studies positions and strategies

kimi.antonelli i'll bet my life savings that he memorised every players' jersey number, name, age, ethnicity and country of birth

olliebearman what did i do to you all

olliebearman what is this modern day torture

username72 Y/N PLEASE NOTICE HIM yourusername

username73 y/n x ollie

username74 the otp fr

username75 the lack of the y/n is starting to concern me

username76 fr like WHERE IS SHEEE

pepemartiofficial hey yourusername i think someone likes you

olliebearman SHUT UP

pepemartiofficial jeez chillax

username77 sobbing i feel bad for ollie

yourbsf please please please notice him y/n i know you know who he is yourusername yourusername yourusername yourusername yourusername yourusername yourusername

olliebearman not you too

username78 i could feel the hurt in ollie's words

username79 theyre more chaotic than we thought oh my god

username80 everyone said lets spam mention y/n so she notices him and i love it

pepemartiofficial clock is ticking and so is our patience

pepemartiofficial come one oliver make your move

olliebearman josep maria marti i'm going to murder you

yourbsf he pulled the full name

pepemartiofficial im sorry pls dont kill me

yourbsf he wont just because you're the mutual friend 😂

olliebearman i'm literally right here

yourbsf do you think i care

olliebearman oh wow

pepemartiofficial ollie got humbled lmfao

username81 deleting all my socials after this but yourusername come here

username82 they are SOULMATES vro yourusername

username83 HSHSHSH NOT EVERYONE MENTIONING HER AFTER EVERY COMMENT LMFAOOOOOO yourusername

username84 Y/N WYAAAA yourusername

username85 legit romance book vibes yourusername

username86 imagine being this in love yourusername

yourbsf to think this all started with pepe's birthday

pepemartiofficial it's crazy

yourbsf and now ollie is in love

username87 VISCA BARCA !!!!!!!! yourusername

username88 i am JEALOUS, ENVIOUS, GREEN. but oh well yourusername

username89 i mean they were bound to meet sooner or later bc of pepe being a mutual friend yourusername

username90 they ARE the main characters yourusername

username91 FRR like everyone else is just a side character yourusername

username92 alexa play 'that should be me' by justin bieber yourusername

gabrielbortoleto_ when will you make your move

olliebearman never with you as my friends

kimi.antonelli stay single and miserable then xx

pepemartiofficial yeah we all have gfs

gabrielbortoleto_ except isack but he doesn't count

olliebearman YOU DON'T NEED TO REMIND ME I'M AWARE

username93 dont make his heart break yourusername

username94 STOP I CANT WAIT TO SEE HER IN THE PADDOCK yourusername

username95 if they dont get together then love isnt real yourusername

kimi.antonelli this is your last chance to make your move oliver

olliebearman PLEASE STOP

pepemartiofficial is he okay

gabrielbortoleto_ prolly not

isackhadjar he'll survive

username96 i just know they'll be each other's ride or dies yourusername

username97 where to buy a ollie asking for a friend

username98 if i could id just take over one of their bodies to experience this love yourusername

username99 im waiting for the fics yourusername

username100 straight out of romeo and juliet yourusername

isackhadjar when's the move loverboy?

olliebearman i'm begging you all please stop

kimi.antonelli i think we drove him crazy

pepemartiofficial he deserves it no one told him to publicly announce his little boy crush

INSTAGRAM TEXTS BETWEEN YOU AND @olliebearman

olliebearman: hi y/n! i'm ollie, nice to meet you!

yourusername: i know who you are ollie

yourusername: pepe wouldn't leave me alone

yourusername: nice to meet you too though

olliebearman: sorry about my friends being annoying

olliebearman: and all the fans tagging you

yourusername: don't worry about it, it was fun to watch while it lasted

olliebearman: yeah i just wanted to tell you something

olliebearman: all these comments pressured me to do it

yourusername: you don't have to say anything you don't want to, ollie

olliebearman: it's alright, i want to get it off my shoulders

olliebearman: and make everyone stop annoying me about it

yourusername: what's up then?

yourusername: is it something to do with pepe or my bsf

olliebearman: no no

olliebearman: it's actually got to do someting with you

yourusername: oh?

olliebearman: yeah

olliebearman: please don't block me or ignore me after i tell you

yourusername: don't worry

yourusername: i won't

yourusername: now continue i'm really curious

olliebearman: alright... here goes nothing

olliebearman: i really like you y/n

olliebearman: i have for a while actually

olliebearman: ever since that time pepe introduced us last year

yourusername: that's really sweet ollie

olliebearman: i've made it awkward haven't i??

yourusername: no no no

yourusername: you're really cute tbh

yourusername: and i did have a teensy tiny crush on you since we last met too

olliebearman: oh wow

olliebearman: this turned out so much better than i expected

olliebearman: i'm so glad you like me back

yourusername: dw about it

yourusername: seeing you like this is cute

olliebearman: so y/n i have a question

yourusername: yeah?

olliebearman: would you like to go out with me?

yourusername: i'd love to <3

olliebearman: great!! you're free next weekend right?

yourusername: yeah! i am

olliebearman: then you can come to the spanish gp!

olliebearman: you can stay in the haas garage (my side)

olliebearman: if it's alright for you i'll ask my team to send you the details

yourusername: oh my god ollie i've always wanted to watch an f1 race

yourusername: tysm for inviting me

yourusername: and i hope you get a good result in the race

olliebearman: i will

olliebearman: for you

NEW NOTIFICATION: olliebearman has mentioned you in their close friends story !

yourusername

liked by olliebearman, yourbsf, gabrielbortoleto_ and 2.1M others

yourusername spanish gp done so i'm headed to italy and oh btw olliebearman and me are dating

click to view all comments

username101 cue the yourbsf meltdown in...

username102 3...

username101 2...

username102 1...

yourbsf Y/N YOU DIDN'T TELL ME ABOUT THIS

yourbsf A BOY????

yourbsf YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND??

yourbsf A RACER BOY????

yourbsf THE BOY YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T DATE OVER YOUR DEAD BODY?

yourbsf YOU DISGRACE

yourbsf TRAITOR

yourusername are you done?

yourbsf NO

yourusername dont say it then

username103 dont know if i should be shocked or unsurpirsed

username104 both

kimi.antonelli congrats y/n!! so happy for both of you

yourusername thank you kimi !!

olliebearman thank you!! glad you're being nice for ONCE

username105 KIMI BEING THE SUPPORTIVE YOUNGER BROTHER FIGURE MY HEARTTTTT

username106 i just know damn well yourbsf is on the verge of tears

username107 SHES SO GORGEOUS I CANT

username108 my parents 🙏🙏

username109 PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP FRRRR

pepemartioffical congratulations!!

olliebearman thank YOU for introducing us

pepemartofficial im finally credited for my efforts

olliebearman nvm

yourusername thank you pepe ❤

gabrielbortoleto_ ohhhso youre the girl he was spamming the gc always talking about

olliebearman GABRIEL

yourusername im flattered please tell me more

gabrielbortoleto_ will do whenever we meet 😊 congrats by the way!

yourusername thank you gabriel!!

username110 my dream couple frrrr

username111 GOALS OMG

username112 its true love if THE y/n posted a soft launch for him

username113 racer boy and footballer girl, couldnt have been better

username114 BEST LOVE STORY FRRR

username115 if my future bf isnt like ollie i dont want him

username116 can ollie fight honest question

username117 dropping that so casually is max aura

username118 y/n is creative i wouldnt have thought of that

username119 waiting for ollie at her football matches

username120 spanish royalty ong

olliebearman i love you so much, mi cielo

yourusername i love you more, my london boy

olliebearman love you more than anything, my barcelona girl

yourusername 🫶❤

olliebearman ❤❤

username121 STOPP MY HEART CANT TAKE THIS

username122 this has me sobbing and i dont even know them

username123 NOOOO IM CRYING THIS SO SWEET

username124 IKR???

username125 THEY HAVE NO RIGHT BEING THIS CUTE

username126 the kiss after the race omg i died watching it

username127 i feel like im intruding or something

username128 my mother and father

username129 OUR*

username130 CUTIESSS AHHH

isackhadjar cutest couple i know, wishing you all the best

olliebearman thank you isack

username131 FUCK OFF THIS POST IS MAKING ME SO EMOTIONAL

username132 this is so romantic and for what

username133 THE CAPTION

username134 y/ns caption is killing me

username135 ISYG BAJJHSSYHSUJKKIUHBHNJWMK

username136 I JUST CAME BACK FROM SUMMER CAMP WTF??? IS THIS HOW I FIND OUT THEYRE TOEGTHER???

username137 screaming crying throwing up

username138 killing myself

username139 wait for me

username140 they should get a reality show

username141 meow

username142 THEM>>>>>>>>>>

username143 sign here to get this into a romance movie

username144 SIGNEDDDD

username145 signed and asking my whole family to sign

username146 lets make this an actual petition

username147 so like when will it be my turn

username148 greatest love story of this centruy

username149 no lies said

username150 my kind of love

olliebearman

liked by yourusername, kimi.antonelli, yourbsf and 2.3M others

olliebearman got the girl of my dreams so i'm gonna brag about it forever Tagged: yourusername

click to view all comments

yourusername i love you forever, ollie. my one and only london boy.

olliebearman i love you to eternity, y/n. my one and only barcelona girl

yourusername forever and always

olliebearman till the end

yourusername i love you

olliebearman i love you too

username151 oh jolly this is so beautiful

username152 THE AESTHETIC ATE UPPPPPP

username153 y/n + ollie in italy together??

username154 thats adorable omgggg

username155 sigh im in love with them

username156 your honour i love them

yourusername this is cute but not as cute as you

olliebearman MY LOVE STOP THIS IS TOO SWEET

yourusername YOU DESERVE WAY MORE THAN THIS MY BEAUTIFUL BOY

olliebearman I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

yourusername I LOVE YOU MORE

username157 why are they communacting in caps??

username158 i have no idea but let them be

username159 oh to be rich

username160 living vicarously through them

username161 sigh i wish i was y/n

username162 oh so hes getting brave with it

username163 OLLIE GIVE US Y/N CONTENT !!!!!!!!!

username164 REAL

username165 oh?

username166 to be hot and have a hot boyfriend is the LIFE

yourbsf okay oliver we get that you have biceps don't choke my bsf with them

olliebearman what if she's into it

yourusername ....

yourusername i'm literally right here

olliebearman are you then?

yourusername not answering that question for more than 2 million people to see

yourbsf smart decision dm me the answer

yourusername YOU DONT NEED TO KNOW

pepemartiofficial i bet she is

yourusername is pepe okay??

yourbsf is he ever

yourusername true

olliebearman but actually are you into it

yourusername .

yourusername i have the right to remain silent

username167 this is the meaning of winging it

username168 boy said "you made fun of me and i did it so i'll rub it in your faces"

username169 now i understand why he was so head over heels for her

username170 we NEED to know about what went on in italy

username171 YES OMG

username172 id sell my left kidney to know

username173 THE AESHETIC. MOTHER Y/N ATEEE (i know ollie posted them but y/n clearly had a say in the photos)

kimi.antonelli these pictures are risky

olliebearman okay?

pepemartiofficial hes feeling scandalous

olliebearman pepe can you shut up

pepemartiofficial no

olliebearman figured

username174 on my fucking knees for them

yourusernameyou look so cute omgg

olliebearman you're cuter

yourusername impossible

olliebearman i put the possible in impossible

yourusername can't even defend you on that

username175 didnt expect them to be so cheesy

username176 id die and come back just to experience these photos

username177 our king is gaining fame dni

username178 is it bad that im making heart eyes at them

username179 totally not, i too am making heart eyes at y/n l/n and ollie bearman

username180 my beloved barcelona girl and her london boy

yourusername has posted three new stories !

caption 1: back to BCN // caption 2: don't tell loverboy abt this // caption 3: 🤍🤍

story liked by olliebearman, yourbsf, pepemartiofficial and 1.7M others

to be continued....?

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @justaf1girl ,, @awritingtree ,, @freyathehuntress ,, @chilling-seavey ,, @eloriis ,, @linnygirl09 ,, @joaosnovia ,, @damonsalvatorelikessex ,, @somerandomf1fan ,, @kevinlolwife ,, @veyveyx (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

732 notes · View notes

ghostofskywalker · 2 months ago

Text

Anthony Bridgerton's Guide to Accidentally Falling In Love - 1

Anthony Bridgerton/Fem!Reader

Words: 1,833

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton thought it was clear that he does not intend to marry at this point, but still he is plagued by hopeful young ladies (and their mothers) who hope to change his mind. So when he meets a widowed Countess who is burdened by the ton's unkind gossip wherever she walks, the two of them realize that maybe they could be of help when it came to each other's problems.

Note: my first bridgerton fic and the first chaptered fic i've written consistently in quite some time, this was so much fun! i've already said this, but a super special thank you to @captainsophiestark for beta-ing this fic and dealing with me in the creation process 😂

Series Masterlist • Anthony Bridgerton Masterlist

At this point, it was an open secret that Anthony Bridgerton had no intentions of marrying, not this season or any other, if you spoke to him. No matter how many mamas tried to shove their (both new and returning) debutantes in his direction, it seemed that he was firm in his decision, never offering so much as a dance to any of the hopeful young ladies that crossed his path. But of course one should never underestimate the tenacity (and sheer stubbornness) of a woman looking to secure her daughter’s future, so the onslaught never once seemed to cease.

This ball was no different, as he stood with Benedict and Colin at the outskirts of the room, staring at those who twirled across the dance floor. Josephine Alton had been the latest young lady who’s hopes of dancing with the Viscount had been dashed, and her mother was currently glaring in Anthony’s direction, but he paid neither of them any mind.

“There,” Benedict said, taking another sip of his drink as he pointed across the room. “Lord Digby just stepped on his dance partner’s toes.”

Colin smiled. “And she’s trying not to show how much it bothers her.”

“Place your bets then,” Anthony cut in. “Is Miss Langley going to join the ever growing list of ladies who he is said to complain about in the gentlemen's club?”

The three of them laughed briefly, but their outward expressions of joy were quelled by the approach of Lady Danbury. “Good evening Bridgertons,” she said. “I trust you’ve all taken to the floor at least once tonight?”

Silence.

Even if someone did have the courage to attempt to lie to the lady whose ballroom they were currently standing in, they did not act quick enough to be convincing.

“That’s what I thought,” Lady Danbury mused, raising her eyebrows at the three men in front of her. “Please see that it happens at least once this evening, if not for your own sake but your mother’s.”

The Bridgerton men all nodded, turning to each other when they were alone once more, and Anthony spoke right after he finished off what was left in his glass. “We should secure partners for the next dance.”

“You two should secure partners for the next dance,” Colin said smugly. Anthony followed his brother’s gaze to where Penelope Featherington stood on the opposite side of the room, fiddling with her glove as she looked down at the floor. “I have a friend that I have not yet spoken with this evening.”

Anthony resisted the urge to roll his eyes as Colin walked away. He knew of Penelope’s affections for his brother, as well as the fact that Colin had a tendency to ignore what was right in front of him (it is possible that was he a little more observant, the scandal with Miss Thompson last season might have been avoided completely).

“Any prospects?” Benedict asked as they both scanned the ballroom.

“Out of all the ladies I have been introduced to currently in this ballroom, there is not a single one I am interested in asking to dance,” Anthony said. “And I doubt Lady Danbury would be satisfied if Daphne was who I took the floor with.”

“What about one you have not been introduced to?”

“I don’t think there’s anyone who I don’t-” but Anthony stopped speaking as his eyes rested on you for the first time. You were standing on the outskirts of the room as well, engaging in what looked to be polite conversation with Daphne and Simon. A little older than some of the women who had already approached him this evening (it seemed that you were past the usual age of debut and closer in years to him and his brother), Anthony would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious as to who you were. “Who is she?”

Benedict paused as he followed his brother’s eyeline. “I don’t know,” he said. “Perhaps we should ask- oh, Mother! What perfect timing.”

Violet Bridgerton approached her two eldest sons with a smile on her face, though it was unclear whether she had been informed of Lady Danbury’s ultimatum or not. “Ask what, Benedict?”

Anthony opened his mouth to speak, but Benedict beat him to it. “Who that woman is, speaking with Daphne.”

After a quick glance in her daughter’s direction, Violet spoke. “Oh, that is Countess Y/N Everleigh. Her husband passed away some time ago, but it seems that she is joining us for the season once more.”

Anthony’s brain buzzed as he tried to recall anything he knew about the surname. “Is she just out of mourning?” he asked, his interest in the matter slightly selfish in nature. If he asked a widow to dance, there was less of a chance that she would make any kind of advances towards him, especially because he technically was of lower rank than her late husband.

His mother shook her head. “No, it’s been a few years since the Earl passed, but she’s just now returning to social engagements. She has been the topic of some unkind gossip among members of the ton as of late, which could explain why it took her longer to begin attending events like this again.”

Benedict’s curiosity might have been more noticeable in this moment, but Anthony was certainly feeling the same way, even if he didn’t show it. “What kind of gossip?”

Violet looked at her two sons. “They say that the Earl did not pass as a result of a heart attack,” she said quietly, to ensure that no one else around heard her speak these rumors. “And the Countess holds the blame.”

Anthony was expecting to hear something simple, such as the idea that she was accused of having an affair while still in mourning, not that people believed she was the one who ended her husband’s life. “I see,” he said, the wheels in his head spinning as he considered this new piece of information.

“How?’ Benedict asked, eyes wide with the promise of interesting information.

“The specifics are unknown, given that the doctors did deem the Earl’s death a heart attack,” Violet responded. “Those who propagated the rumor simply believe that the Countess had too much to gain from her husband’s death. After all, it is said that he left her everything.”

“Do you believe it?” As his brother spoke, Anthony curiously regarded his mother’s expression.

“I was introduced to them both briefly at a ball, and spoke with Y/N a few times in the time after her husband passed,” Violet said. “I do not know her beyond that, but it is my belief that she could do no such thing. Why do you ask?”

“Anthony wishes to dance with her.”

After shooting his brother a glare, Anthony cleared his throat as his mother smiled at him. “I simply want to know more about the woman that my sister seems so friendly with, that is all.”

Violet nodded, and she began to lead him over to where Daphne was standing. “My Lady,” she said, and you turned to her with a small smile on your face. “Allow me to introduce my eldest son, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. And Anthony, I would like to introduce Countess Y/N Everleigh.”

You nodded gracefully at his mother’s words, and politely extended your hand to Anthony in greeting. It was clear you did not expect the introduction, but smiled nonetheless. “It is a pleasure to meet you, My Lady,” he said, pressing a brief kiss to your gloved hand. “Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the floor for the next dance?”

Your expression was hard to read, but he was sure he could sense a little bit of wariness in your face (which made sense, especially if his mother was indeed correct about the rumors that seemed to follow you). Eventually though, you gave a polite nod. “I would be happy to accompany you, My Lord.”

Anthony could see confusion on Daphne’s face, but he paid his sister no mind as he took your hand and escorted you to the center of the room. Nodding at Colin and Penelope as they took places beside him, Anthony caught Benedict’s eye as he remained on the outskirts of the room, where he would no doubt incur the wrath of Lady Danbury if he did not change that soon.

As the music started to play, you regarded Anthony with a curious expression. “I would have thought your family has already weathered enough scandals,” you said. “Why have you chosen to dance with another?”

He simply smiled before responding. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, My Lady.”

A soft snort escaped from your mouth, and you made no attempt to hide it or pull it back, unlike other ladies he had met. “Surely you aren’t oblivious to the way that the ton speculates about me when I am not present and does nothing but ignore me when I am?”

“I don’t take stock in rumors perpetuated by those who I dislike,” was his response. “More so now, that my family has been the topic of such scandals, as you so elegantly pointed out.”

“I think we will get along well then, Lord Bridgerton,” you said. You seemed more comfortable with him now, some of that wariness melting away as you realized he had no intention of adding to the fire.

“Given the fact that you already know my sister and mother, I would be inclined to agree.”

You smiled, glancing back at where Daphne and Simon were standing. “And both are equally lovely,” you said. “I only met the Duchess this evening, but I was introduced to Lady Bridgerton at a ball years ago, and she has always been very kind.”

Anthony smiled. If he was being perfectly honest, your presence was rather refreshing, and he found himself wishing for your friendship.

As the music died down to signal the end of the dance, Anthony bowed politely before taking his leave, immediately moving to approach Benedict at the outskirts of the room. “It is your turn to take the floor, you know.”

But of course, Benedict showed no intention of actually completing Lady Danbury’s request. “And I will, in due time,” he said. “How was your dance with the Countess? Do you think she is as cold blooded as the rest of society seems to believe?”

“I know you’re not well-versed in manners brother, but I didn’t see fit to ask a woman if she was indeed a killer during an introductory conversation,” Anthony said, raising his eyebrows at his brother. “Besides, I don’t wish to incur her wrath if the ton is correct.”

Benedict laughed quietly as the two were approached by Simon, and Anthony could see Lady Danbury watching them out of the corner of his eye, but he simply ignored the somewhat scheming look on her face. He had followed her instructions after all.

- end of part one -

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#abgtafil fic #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x female reader #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader

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moonstarsunflower · 2 months ago

Text

When Tangerines Give You Lemons

by moonstarsunflower

pairing : joshua x fem reader

summary : you haven't gotten over your ex when you met joshua, but his patience never falters because maybe he knows exes are not easily forgotten—especially ones you just remembered to be dead

genre : joshua fluff, joshua angst, joshua both, joshua breathing, joshua existing, non-idol!au, lawyer!au, hurt & comfort, angst first fluff later kinda; a warm rain after a heavy storm

notes: photos not mine, mostly pinterest-based, credits to rightful owners!

warnings 1 : mentions of death, memory loss; not a warning but joshua x fem reader are both in late 20s to early 30s; not much tbh, this is just a hurt & comfort fic where angst meets fluff halfway and maybe dead exes give u permission to move on 🤷🏻‍♀️

warnings 2 : on a more serious note, i'd just like to say that this may not be everyone's cup of (lemon) tea, and that's okay. i just wanted to make smth meaningful but also different than my other works. i tried to make this as unique as possible, not just for the sake of it, but bc i thought this kind of plot deserved to be explored. i'm not saying this is how it should be, but that at least this is one way of interpreting it. so yeah, this isn't a simple boy meets girl story—this is patience meets grief, emotionally available meets the unavailable, and somewhere halfway—tangerines meet lemons ✨

word count : 11.1k

song rec : maybe not the entire lyrics but yawn by seventeen bc the vibes are just 😭

a/n : joshua is a lawyer and has a sister!; also if you read between the lines u might realize this is connected to one of my earlier fics; and this also connects to another fic bc why not right? 🤭; spin-off first main story later 😉; yes, title is a play on words and the k-drama series re: when life gives you lemons & when life gives you tangerines (these are exactly why i titled it that way 😂)

The Date

Joshua walks beside you as the evening air cools, the faint hum of city life barely audible over the sound of your footsteps.

It's one of those rare moments where you're not rushing, not fidgeting with your phone, not hiding behind the wall you've built up.

He can tell you're trying.

Trying to move on, trying to find peace in this thing between you two.

It's a good night, but it's not exactly effortless.

Your smile falters for just a second when you meet his gaze, and he notices it.

He's learned how to read you these past weeks—the way your lips twitch, like you're forcing yourself to feel something you're still not ready for.

"So, what do you think?" He asks, casually.

You've been talking about this new place—your favorite dish—and you've been engaging, your usual playful banter lighting up for a while.

But now, there's that silence again.

You pause.

"It's nice. Really nice." Your voice softens, almost thoughtful, like you're not fully here. "Thank you, Joshua."

He glances at you, sensing the distance.

The usual fire is absent tonight.

"Hey, it's fine. You know you don't need to thank me for every little thing, right?" He teases, his voice easy.

He's gotten good at playing it light.

But you don't laugh this time.

Instead, you just shrug, your fingers toying with the hem of your jacket as if seeking comfort from it.

"It's just been... a lot, that's all," you add quietly, as if it's a confession you haven't let yourself say aloud in a while.

"I've been trying to keep up with everything. With you."

Joshua stops walking for a moment, letting your words settle between you.

"YN, you don't have to try. Not with me." He says it with a softness that's rare for him.

It's hard to hold back the frustration, the urge to demand you just... let go, let yourself feel.

But he doesn't.

He won't.

He knows better than that.

You look away, staring down at your shoes. "I'm just not there yet."

It's not a rejection, not exactly.

It's more like an apology in disguise.

But it stings all the same.

"Okay," he replies, his smile a little more strained. "Whenever you are."

He means it.

He really does.

But inside, there's that little bitter sting—the one that reminds him you're not here yet.

The drive to your apartment is quiet, the hum of the car echoing a little louder now.

At your door, you glance up at him, and for a second, he thinks you might say something more, might let down that wall a little.

But instead, you smile softly.

"Goodnight, Joshua."

The words are enough to warm him, but there's a hesitation in your eyes he can't ignore.

He gives you a nod, turning to leave. "Goodnight, YN."

But as he walks away, he can't shake the feeling that something's missing, something he can't quite put his finger on.

As he reaches the lobby, he can't help the small smile that pulls at his lips, even though it feels a little bittersweet.

You're still here, still with him, but in so many ways, you're not.

And no matter how hard he tries to reach you, there's something keeping you just out of his reach.

♢

The Grief

Days have passed, and Joshua still hasn't heard from you.

He's been buried in work, in the grind of his latest court case, but it gnaws at him.

The way you didn't text back after that night.

The way you've barely responded to his messages at all.

It's like you're... slipping away without even realizing it.

He's been giving you space, sure.

He knows you need it.

But the silence is starting to hurt, starting to feel like it's not just a break, but something more.

Today, Joshua's won the case.

He should be celebrating, feeling that rush of success, but instead, he's thinking of you.

He's driving, his phone in the passenger seat.

It's the third time today he's checked—no text.

It's a little ridiculous, he knows.

He's a grown man, a lawyer who can command attention in a courtroom, but when it comes to you, he's helpless.

He parks in front of your place, taking a deep breath.

He's not here to pressure you, not to force you to open up.

He just needs to know that you're okay.

Knocking on your door, Joshua stands there for a few seconds, trying to push down the worry gnawing at his insides.

When you open it, you're wearing that expression again—the one that says you're holding yourself together just barely.

"Hey, Joshua," you greet him quietly, almost a little too calmly.

Your gaze flickers away from him too quickly, and he catches it—the way you avoid meeting his eyes.

Joshua's eyes narrow slightly.

"You okay?" He steps into the hallway, already guessing the answer, but he needs you to say it.

You hesitate, biting your lip. "Yeah. I've just been busy."

"Busy?" Joshua tilts his head, studying you. "Or avoiding me?"

You wince slightly at that, like the accusation stings.

But then you cover it up with a soft chuckle.

"I'm not avoiding you. Just... things are complicated right now."

That's all you say before turning away to head inside.

But Joshua follows you, his footsteps slow as he watches your back, the way your shoulders sag slightly.

He feels the familiar wall again, the one you're so good at building when you don't want to let him see your hurt.

But he's tired of it.

"YN..." Joshua takes a step toward you, stopping you in your tracks. "I'm not here to fix you. But I'm not going anywhere."

Your eyes flicker with something—fear, maybe, or sadness—but you quickly look away again.

"I don't need fixing," you mutter, your voice small.

Joshua sighs, walking toward you.

When he reaches you, he gently rests his hand on your shoulder. "Then let me help. Let me be here for you."

You don't respond at first, just standing there, the silence stretching between you like a chasm neither of you can bridge.

Finally, you whisper, almost to yourself, "I'm sorry, Joshua. I don't know how to let anyone in right now."

There's no immediate reply.

Just the faint hum of the fridge in the kitchen. The light creak of the floor beneath his shoes. And then—

"I'll put the kettle on."

You blink, confused.

"What?"

Joshua offers you a soft look.

Not pitying—just present.

"You always think better when you're holding tea," he says. "Chamomile, right?"

Your throat tightens.

He remembered.

You don't follow him at first.

You just stand there, stuck somewhere between guilt and gratitude.

But eventually, your feet move on their own, leading you into the kitchen where he's already finding the cups like he's done it before.

Like this isn't the first time he's stepped into your silence.

You sit at the edge of the dining table, watching as he pours water into the kettle, the steam beginning to rise.

The air feels heavy, but his presence doesn't suffocate you—it steadies you, somehow.

When he sets the mug in front of you, you mumble a soft thank you. He takes the seat across from you without a word.

No questions. No expectations.

Just silence.

Just tea.

Just him.

Your fingers wrap around the mug. The warmth bites a little, but it grounds you.

"I don't know how to be... normal anymore," you admit, your voice raw. "I wake up and forget what day it is. Or what month. Or whether it's supposed to hurt this much."

Joshua doesn't flinch.

"You're not supposed to be anything right now," he says. "You're grieving. That's not something you fix."

You glance at him, and it hurts—the way he looks at you like you're still whole even when you feel like nothing.

"I'm tired," you say, finally.

He nods, slowly. "Then sleep."

You stand, almost expecting him to leave, to gather his coat and go.

But he doesn't move.

Instead, he looks up and asks, "do you want me to go?"

Your mouth opens, then closes again. You hesitate.

"No," you say quietly.

A beat passes.

"Couch okay?" He offers.

You nod. "Blanket's in the hallway closet."

You don't look at him again as you disappear down the hall. But after a while, you come back.

He's already settled on the couch, tie undone, blazer folded neatly on the armrest. His phone is face down. He's staring at the ceiling like it has answers.

You place the folded blanket at the foot of the couch.

"You always forget to grab it," you mumble.

His lips lift, just slightly.

"Thanks."

You retreat again, slipping into your room. You lie in bed, but your eyes don't close.

Because through the walls, you can hear the faint sound of his breathing.

And somehow, tonight, that's enough.

That's everything.

♢

The Flash of Memory

The soft, rhythmic sound of Joshua's breathing eventually lulls you into a light doze.

The tea, still warm, sits on the counter untouched, and the room around you feels too quiet.

A perfect silence—too perfect, even.

It pulls at something inside you, that aching quiet, the kind that lingers even after your eyes close.

Suddenly, it happens.

You're standing in the kitchen, fumbling with a glass in your hands, the cold smooth surface almost comforting to the touch.

You're not thinking about anything in particular.

But then, as you reach for the cabinet door to grab the dish soap—your mind flashes.

It's him.

A memory—so sharp, so vivid it hurts.

The laugh he had when you teased him for leaving his jacket on the floor, the way he looked at you with that soft, knowing smile like he understood things even you didn't.

The warmth in his eyes that never once wavered, never once let you down.

Your fingers tremble.

The glass slips.

It hits the counter and shatters, fragments scattering across the floor like shards of something long gone.

You freeze.

For a moment, it feels like everything has just... cracked.

Not the glass, but something deeper inside.

Grief opens up in your chest, raw and unbidden, and before you can catch your breath, a sob escapes you.

The door to the living room opens.

Joshua's footsteps approach, and you can hear the hesitation in his pace.

It's not the sound of a man who knows what to say—it's the sound of someone trying to decide if they should say anything at all.

He sees you there, standing in the middle of the kitchen, eyes wide, chest rising and falling quickly as if the air itself has become too heavy to breathe.

"YN..." He calls your name softly, not demanding, not urgent.

Just—there.

Present.

You can't meet his gaze.

You turn your back to him, fingers clenched tightly around the edge of the counter as if it might ground you.

You shut your eyes.

The sting in your throat is unbearable.

You weren't ready for this. You weren't ready for the weight of grief to resurface like this.

Not when you're already so tired.

Joshua watches the scene unfold, his hand hovering at his side.

He knows what this is.

He's seen it before—the way grief comes in waves, unannounced, pulling you under like an ocean.

You don't have to explain.

He can see it in the way your shoulders are trembling, in the way your hands are clenched into fists, as if holding on to the remnants of something that's already slipped through your fingers.

He almost says something—calls you out by name, mentions the person who's missing, the one you loved and lost—but he stops.

He knows better.

It's not time yet.

Instead, he steps forward, his voice a gentle murmur, "I'm here. I won't leave."

The words aren't a promise.

They're not a fix.

But somehow, they are enough.

You take a slow breath.

The shaking in your hands subsides just a little, but the sadness—that never fully leaves.

Joshua doesn't push, doesn't force you to explain. He's just there.

In the quiet that follows, you feel a little less alone, a little less lost.

♢

Doctor's Appointment

The day has settled into a stillness that is both comforting and suffocating.

Joshua had left hours ago, after making sure you were okay, his words still echoing softly in the background: "I'm not going anywhere."

But now, as the quiet of your apartment presses in on you, you're alone.

The weight of the evening settles on your chest—grief, guilt, memories you can't fully place.

You don't remember when it started, but you've been feeling off a lot lately, like you're carrying something heavy that you can't quite name.

You walk into the bathroom, glancing at the mirror.

The reflection staring back at you seems familiar, but at the same time... not.

You're still you, but the edges of the person you see seem a little blurry, like something's missing.

You touch your face, trailing a finger down your cheek, as if somehow trying to reconnect the dots.

"You remember now. Don't forget."

The words are written on a post-it note stuck to the mirror.

You stare at it for a moment, puzzled.

Your mind drifts for a second, and then you pull away, trying to shake the disorienting feeling.

You don't remember putting it there.

Or why you'd need a reminder.

But something inside you whispers that it's important. That you are important—more than you seem to believe.

You inhale deeply and let the thought pass.

You're here, alive, breathing.

That should be enough, right?

But the confusion lingers, like an itch under your skin you can't scratch.

The whole memory thing—it's not easy.

You're still missing parts. You can feel them.

They're locked away, out of reach.

The next morning comes too quickly, and you're at the doctor's office.

The waiting room is cold, the air sterile and unfamiliar.

You've been here before, you think, but not recently.

The doctor's office, the steady ticking of the clock on the wall, the soft rustling of papers—everything feels off.

Joshua's sitting beside you, his gaze flicking between you and the doctor.

He's been with you to every appointment since it started, this thing between you two.

It's the one thing he doesn't let go of. Not that you mind.

The doctor enters, his expression calm, professional.

"YN, how have things been since the memories came back?" His voice is a little too calm, too clinical, like he's asking about a headache rather than the intricate mess of a fractured mind.

You glance at Joshua, then back to the doctor.

Your fingers twitch, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve.

You don't want to admit it, but the truth escapes before you can catch it. "I wish they hadn't."

Joshua's gaze hardens just for a second—he knows the weight of those words, the truth behind them.

It's not just about the memories returning, it's about what you've lost in the process.

It's about the grief that has no place to go.

The memories are there, but they don't fit. They don't line up like they should.

The doctor takes a note, his expression unchanged. "It's normal to feel that way sometimes. Reconstructing memories can be painful. We can continue with the therapy to help you integrate them."

You nod slowly, the words lost in the fog of your mind.

You want to ask about the note, the one you saw in the mirror.

You want to know if it's connected to everything else you can't remember—but you don't.

Instead, you glance at Joshua again, and for a brief moment, he catches your eye.

There's something soft there, a depth of understanding he doesn't speak.

He knows what you're going through.

As the doctor talks about follow-ups and more appointments, your thoughts wander.

You keep your eyes down, tracing the seam of your sleeve, the rhythm of your heart quickening as you think of the gaps, the emptiness.

But Joshua... he's here.

That's the only thing that makes sense right now. And that's all you need to hold on to.

♢

Fragments of the Past

The evening drags on the soft hum of the world outside, just a reminder of how still everything is in here, inside your apartment.

Joshua stays with you.

Not because he has to, but because you've let him.

You're not sure how to explain it, but you're not asking him to leave.

It's easier this way—his presence a comforting weight, like a blanket you can curl up under when the night gets too cold.

You're sitting at the kitchen table, your fingers tracing the rim of your mug, steam rising from it, but you're not really drinking.

It's more of a distraction than anything.

He's been here for hours now.

You've had dinner, or at least you tried to eat, but now it's just the two of you in silence.

Joshua hasn't pushed for conversation.

He's been quiet, but in a way that makes you feel like he's giving you space—waiting for you to open up if and when you're ready.

You don't know how it happens, but the words slip out before you can stop them.

"That jacket used to be his," you say suddenly, your voice distant, almost as if you're talking about someone else.

The words hang in the air, heavy and uninvited.

Joshua's gaze flickers to the jacket you've left draped across the back of a chair.

It's faded, worn at the cuffs.

A faint memory of someone who isn't here anymore.

The silence stretches, thick with unspoken things.

You take a slow breath, setting your mug down on the table.

"I forgot he died. Until I remembered."

You try to shrug it off, but the movement feels too heavy, too loaded.

Joshua doesn't say anything.

He just watches you, his eyes soft.

His silence is enough—it always has been.

He doesn't rush you, doesn't try to push you to explain. He just listens.

You can't look at him right now.

You focus on the jacket, then the window, the way the night outside feels too big, too dark.

"The worst part was waking up and losing him again."

Your throat tightens, but you force the words out.

You never realized how painful it would be to remember the things you've lost.

To know that you once had them—and now you don't.

The ache in your chest is almost unbearable.

You clench your hands, trying to ground yourself.

But Joshua stays still, like he's waiting.

You don't need him to say anything right now.

You need him to be quiet.

And he knows that. He always knows what you need.

It's funny, in a way.

How grief isn't just about the loss—it's about how it changes you.

How it's not just a moment but a slow, seeping shift in the way you see the world.

"I don't even know how to miss him anymore," you whisper, the words slipping out like a confession. "I didn't even realize I'd forgotten... until everything came rushing back."

Joshua doesn't speak yet, but you feel the way his presence shifts.

He's not interrupting, not trying to fill the silence.

He's letting you speak. Letting you say these things.

Finally, you look up at him.

There's something in his gaze—understanding, pain, maybe even some quiet sorrow—but mostly, just... patience.

You inhale, steadying yourself, and when you speak again, it's with a kind of resolve you didn't know you had until just now.

"Some days... I think I'd rather not remember at all."

Joshua's heart aches at those words, but he doesn't say a thing.

Because he understands.

He knows this grief is bigger than both of you, and no words can undo it.

Instead, he just reaches across the table, his hand hovering for a moment before he gently places it over yours, a silent gesture of support.

You don't flinch, not this time. You let it be.

For now, that's enough. Just being here, together.

♢

The Case

The morning light filters into the office, casting long shadows on the polished wooden floors.

It's a typical day for Joshua.

He's used to the rhythm of the courtroom, the fast pace of his career, and the precision that his job demands.

His reputation is built on being flawless, sharp, and in control.

Today, though, things feel off.

He's been waiting for a critical case to start, but his thoughts are elsewhere.

His phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up with a text from you.

"I'm fine. I just... need some space."

He reads it again. The words don't sit right.

There's an ache in his chest that only deepens the more he thinks about it.

He sighs, shoving the phone back into his pocket and standing up.

He's never missed the opening of a case—not once in his career.

But today, the case will have to wait.

When his assistant, Laura, walks into the office, her eyes flicker to the clock on the wall.

"The trial's about to start," she says, confused. "You're not in court yet?"

She takes in the briefcase still sitting on his desk, the jacket slung over the back of his chair, his hand already on the doorknob.

"You're leaving, sir?"

Her tone is polite, but there's a sharpness beneath it—a quiet expectation that Joshua will act like he always does: efficient, precise, never distracted.

He hesitates.

"Yeah. I... I'll be back for the afternoon session."

Laura raises an eyebrow, catching the tension in his posture.

"You don't mess up, sir. Not unless it's something you care about."

Her voice is steady, but there's a knowing look in her eyes—the kind that implies she sees more than he lets on.

Joshua looks at her, feeling something twist in his chest.

"I know. I just... need to take care of it."

She nods. No more questions.

She's seen him walk out of more courtrooms than she can count—but never like this.

As he steps into the elevator, he catches his reflection in the doors.

For a moment, he doesn't recognize the man staring back—the lawyer, the perfectionist, the man who's always in control.

All of that is slipping away, little by little, because of you.

The elevator dings as he steps inside.

His heart races, not from the usual adrenaline of a court battle, but from the knot in his stomach as he heads to you.

Not to fix this.

But to be there for you, even if it means letting down everything he's worked so hard for.

♢

Late at Night

After leaving the office, Joshua doesn't head home—even though he has court in the morning.

His mind is too consumed with you, with the unread messages, with the feeling that something is wrong.

He knows he can't fix everything, but he can't walk away either.

He arrives at your place, as quietly as he can, not wanting to disturb you if you're sleeping.

You'd given him the spare key months ago—sometime in between your grief and his quiet patience—but he's never used it until now.

The apartment is dimly lit, a soft glow from the kitchen light flickering on the walls.

He finds you on the couch, curled up with a blanket barely covering you, the rest of it tangled around your legs.

You look so vulnerable, and Joshua's heart tightens.

He stands there for a moment, watching you sleep, knowing he shouldn't, but he can't stop himself.

This quiet, peaceful version of you is a stark contrast to the guarded, aching person he's been seeing lately.

He grabs the extra blanket folded across the chair and carefully drapes it over you. The soft fabric brushes your skin, but you don't stir.

Joshua's eyes linger on you for a moment too long, something painful flickering in them as he watches your expression soften in sleep.

Then, in the quiet of the room, he hears it.

"Mingyu..."

The name slips from your lips like a whisper in the night.

Joshua freezes, his breath catching in his throat.

It's not the first time you've said it, but hearing it this close—when he's so near you—feels like a gut punch.

He knows about Mingyu.

Your ex.

The one who died in the car accident.

You survived. Just barely.

You forgot... until your memories came back.

Hearing you say his name like that—so fragile, so haunted—sends a wave of devastation through him.

A reminder that he's still a distant second in your heart, and that part of you might never be fully his.

He stands there for a long moment, fighting the urge to say something, to break the silence.

But he knows it's not his place to comfort you in that way, not yet.

So, he just stays.

The hours pass, and the stillness between you two fills the room.

Joshua doesn't leave. Doesn't move, even as the night presses on.

Eventually, exhaustion tugs at him. His head dips slightly, eyes closing as he slumps a little in the chair beside you.

But his sleep is light—barely there.

So when you shift under the blankets, when your breathing changes ever so slightly, his eyes flutter open.

You wake up around the same time, disoriented, the remnants of the dream still clinging to you.

Joshua straightens up the moment your eyes open, his voice soft in the stillness.

"Hey, YN."

The weight of his presence fills the space between you.

And for the first time in a long while, it doesn't feel crushing.

It feels safe.

Almost.

Your eyes flicker to his hand resting on the arm of the chair—so close, yet so far away.

You feel the pull to reach for him, just the smallest gesture, a lifeline in the suffocating quiet.

Your fingers twitch, reaching toward him.

But then the old walls you've built come rushing back.

The grief, the loss, the confusion.

You pull your hand back at the last second, turning your head away as if the very thought of accepting comfort will unravel something inside of you.

Joshua watches the entire movement, his heart aching as he sees the hesitation in your eyes.

But he doesn't push. He doesn't make you do anything you're not ready for.

He just stays, as he promised.

♢

The Meeting

Joshua had noticed you before you even realized you were noticing him.

The first time was in the café, the one he always went to for his morning coffee.

He sat by the window like he always did—and there you were, across from him, reading a book, barely glancing up when the barista called out his order.

Then, he noticed you again the next morning.

Same time. Same table.

You were alone, as always. He told himself it was just a coincidence, but it happened again.

And again.

At first, it was nothing more than a casual observation.

But there was something about the way you carried yourself, the subtle curve of your lips when you sipped your coffee, the way your hair fell just right around your face, that pulled him in.

One day, he was driving down the road to work when he saw you crossing the street.

He slowed as he approached the intersection, and for a brief second—there you were, stepping onto the pedestrian lane just ahead of him, as if the universe was pulling you into his path.

He almost missed the light because he was staring, wondering why you were always there.

He couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than just chance.

Weeks passed, and it became routine.

He started noticing you wherever he went.

The café. The pedestrian lane.

Eventually, he realized you worked in the same building, just different floors, different departments.

You both seemed to be following the same pattern, like you were in sync without even knowing it.

One morning, you were standing by the elevator and Joshua noticed you from across the lobby. You were holding a folder in your hands, staring absently at the floor, and he felt a strange tug in his chest.

He walked up to you casually.

"Morning," he said, offering a smile.

You barely met his eyes, but managed a faint nod in return. The air between you both felt thick, almost heavy with unspoken things.

Joshua wondered if you were the type who didn't speak much. He couldn't quite figure you out, but it didn't stop him from wanting to.

After a few more accidental encounters, it stopped feeling like an accident.

Something about you pulled him in deeper than he expected.

Joshua doesn't believe in fate. But maybe he believes in patterns.

And you... you've been showing up like a heartbeat.

♢

The First Coffee Date

You'd spent most of the afternoon inside the café, but now you stood outside, looking at the street, letting the cool air clear your head.

It was quiet out here, the soft hum of the street filling the space, but it was peaceful.

Joshua had stepped out too, a momentary break before the world picked back up.

The late afternoon sky was softening to gold behind scattered clouds, the light casting a muted glow over everything.

The café had emptied out hours ago, leaving only the distant sounds of footsteps and the faint murmur of the world moving on.

Joshua stood a few steps away, his eyes on you, but not quite close enough to interrupt your quiet.

You were standing there, your posture distant—like you were somewhere far away in your thoughts.

He hesitated.

The weight of the silence was different this time, charged in a way he hadn't anticipated.

He wasn't sure if it was the right moment, but something urged him to step closer.

"Hey," he said, his voice tentative as he approached. "Mind if I join you?"

You didn't flinch or move away.

Instead, you glanced at him, your eyes holding something softer, almost like recognition.

He wasn't sure what it meant yet, but he didn't back away.

And neither did you.

You didn't leave, and Joshua took that as something—an invitation of sorts, an unspoken acknowledgment.

It felt like a door opening, even if it was just a crack.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke.

The silence was comfortable in a way, like it wasn't about saying something right—it was just about being there.

With each other.

Finally, he broke the quiet, his voice soft. "Would you want to get coffee sometime?"

His words felt gentle, like he was asking for more than just a casual yes.

You met his gaze, not quite smiling, but there was a shift in your eyes—something behind them that told him you were actually considering it.

Joshua smiled, trying to hide the fact that he might've been keeping track of your café visits.

"I know a place," he added, "a little quieter, if you'd like."

You huffed, maybe a laugh, maybe not, but there was a shift in the air.

A moment of something real.

And you nodded.

That was the start.

Not a relationship.

Not yet.

But something quiet, something that didn't need to be labeled yet.

An orbit, slow and steady, but undeniably present.

♢

The Ex

Coffee dates happened—quiet ones, simple.

You never called them dates, and neither did he.

But Joshua showed up each time with a steadiness that felt like something close to care.

You talked about books sometimes, or the weather.

Mostly, you just sat in the same space, and that was enough.

He didn't mind.

Joshua had the kind of patience that didn't need to name things to believe in them.

One evening, after leaving the café, you both wandered off to the nearby park.

The quiet, open space seemed to settle your restless thoughts.

You found a bench under a tree, the branches swaying gently overhead as moonlight filtered through the leaves.

You sat down without a word, so quiet, lost in your own world.

Joshua followed without hesitation, sitting beside you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The silence stretched between you, not uncomfortable—just waiting.

After a beat, your voice broke through.

"I had a dream last night. About someone I lost."

Joshua stayed quiet, watching you carefully.

He didn't push, didn't ask.

But the way you spoke—so softly, like the memory weighed on you—made him want to know more.

"He died. Car accident."

You pause, your voice catching. "I was in it too. I hit my head—woke up in the hospital, and I... I didn't remember. Not him. Not what happened. Not for a whole year."

Joshua just nodded.

"Then it all came back. Just like that. All at once. It was like... losing him twice."

His chest tightened at your words, the pain in your voice cutting through the quiet like glass.

He didn't know what to say, but he stayed still, listening.

"His name was Mingyu," you added.

"I remember he loved tangerines. I used to peel them for him," you murmured, a sad smile tugging at your lips. "He said I did it wrong but ate them anyway."

Joshua's breath caught at the softness of your confession—the quiet reverence in the way you clung to small, tender details.

There was something in the way you said it—so casual, yet quietly full of sorrow—that stayed with him.

He didn't try to fill the silence.

He was just present, letting you share your grief in your own time.

And in that moment, Joshua realized something: he wasn't here to fix you.

He wasn't here to take away your pain.

He was here because he saw you—standing, broken and bruised, but still trying.

And in that, he found something quietly, irrevocably beautiful.

♢

Almost There

You don't know when it started feeling easy again.

Maybe it was somewhere in the quiet between sips of coffee and shared silences—when the conversations stopped circling grief and started brushing up against something lighter.

He never pushes. He never pries.

He just shows up—steadily, patiently—like he's willing to wait as long as it takes.

It should scare you.

But it doesn't.

One afternoon, the weather was too kind.

The building's glass doors swing shut behind you, and the air outside is the perfect blend of warmth and breeze.

Joshua's waiting by the curb, a coffee in each hand, smile soft like he already knows you'll say yes when he asks.

"Want to walk a bit?" He says.

You nod.

The city feels quieter than usual.

Cars hum gently in the background, and your footsteps fall into sync with his without effort.

You're not thinking about the weight you usually carry.

You're not thinking about Mingyu.

Until you are.

"I used to walk this road with him," you say quietly.

Joshua glances at you, gentle and unassuming. "Mingyu?"

You nod, but the ache doesn't rise.

Not like it used to.

"He always said I walked too fast. Said he couldn't keep up."

Joshua grins faintly. "You do walk fast."

You bump shoulders with him. "You're just slow."

He laughs, and for a second, the world is okay again.

You keep walking.

The air smells like bread from a nearby bakery.

There's a dog tied to a street post chewing a leaf like it's a delicacy.

Someone's playing a mellow jazz tune on an old speaker from an open apartment window.

None of it feels sharp.

None of it cuts.

For the first time in a long time, you feel like maybe—just maybe—you could be happy again.

♢

Citrus

You were so close to giving in.

So close to letting yourself feel something.

It’s been a long day—too long.

The exhaustion from work weighs heavily on your body as you lie beside Joshua on the bed.

You let yourself sink into the softness of the mattress, the quiet hum of your apartment filling the space.

Joshua has his arm loosely around you, his warmth a quiet comfort as you both settle into the stillness.

It’s not the first time you’ve shared this kind of space, but tonight feels different—more intimate, yet without any expectations.

He knows you’re not ready for that.

He even seems to sense the shift in the air, the quiet tension that wasn’t there before.

His arm tightens just slightly around you, and he shifts a little, as if giving you the space to decide what you want.

“Do you want me to let go?” He asks softly, a gentle question with no pressure.

You shake your head slightly, not trusting your voice enough to speak. "It’s fine, just hold me."

He doesn’t hesitate. He just pulls you a little closer, his presence reassuring and warm, and that’s all.

No rushing, no pushing.

Just the simple comfort of holding each other, nothing more, nothing less.

His grip tightens ever so gently, pulling you closer, and you rest your head against his chest, letting the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath calm you.

It's easy to lose yourself in this moment, easy to pretend there's nothing else you're holding onto.

But the weight of Mingyu, the guilt of moving on, presses against you in the quiet.

Joshua seems to sense it again.

There's another beat of silence before his voice cuts through the air, lighter now, almost as if he's trying to shift your focus.

"I told you about my sister, right?" His voice holds a vulnerability in it, like he's waiting for you to remember.

You nod, only half paying attention, your thoughts still tangled in the air between you.

"She's always called me 'too sweet.' Said I needed something to balance me out."

You turn your head slightly, furrowing your brows in confusion. "Balance you out?"

"Lemons," he says, laughing softly. "She says they keep me from being too soft. Too sweet."

You stare at him for a moment, surprised at how genuine he seems, at how something so small is so important to him.

"Lemons?" You repeat, still not quite grasping the connection.

Joshua nods, almost fondly.

"Yeah. She buys me bags of them—always tells me to eat one whenever I start getting... too much."

He chuckles, a hint of a private joke dancing in his smile. "I don't really like lemons, but I keep them around. Because it's what she gives me."

You smile at his quirk, the subtle affection in his words.

The way he talks about his sister—it's like she's not just his sibling, but someone who's a constant reminder of balance in his life.

He looks at you carefully, his eyes soft.

"She said I need to learn to keep things balanced. Sometimes I think I get lost in trying to make everyone happy."

His voice dips low, quieter now, but still with that edge of honesty that's almost disarming.

You tilt your head, letting the conversation simmer in the air between you.

He's still waiting for you to understand, to absorb the way he carries these little, private pieces of his life with him.

"I don't think you're too sweet," you say softly, almost without thinking. "I think you're just..."

You pause, searching for the right word.

"Genuine. Real."

Joshua's smile stretches a little wider, a knowing glimmer in his eyes.

"Maybe. But a little citrus never hurts, right?"

♢

A Kiss?

Something feels different today.

You're lighter.

Like you're not holding your breath anymore.

The car ride is quiet, but not heavy.

Joshua doesn't fill the silence with idle talk—he lets it exist, lets it settle.

The streets blur past in dark blue, the moon peeking just enough to paint the world in a soft white light.

He pulls up in front of your apartment building and shifts the car into park.

Without a word, he gets out, and you follow his lead, stepping out of the car.

The weight of the quiet is comfortable, as though it's something familiar between you.

You both walk up the steps together, and Joshua stays a little behind, but close enough that his presence is a constant warmth.

It's the kind of silence that fills spaces, yet feels natural.

At your door, you turn to him, a little surprised at how quickly the moment has arrived.

"Well, this is me," you say, voice softer than you meant it to be.

Joshua offers a small smile. "Yeah."

But neither of you moves.

The hallway is hushed, lit only by the soft, yellow glow of overhead lights—dim, steady, and humming faintly above you.

And within it, the silence stretches, but it doesn't feel awkward.

It feels like something waiting to be named.

He stands a little too close—but not close enough to cross a line.

Not unless you step into it.

You glance up at him. He's already looking at you.

There's something unreadable in his eyes.

Something open. Something patient.

The kind of look that doesn't ask, but offers.

A silent question in the way his gaze flickers—just briefly—to your mouth, then back to your eyes.

Your heart stumbles.

The space between you feels suddenly electric, charged with something too delicate to hold and too heavy to ignore.

You don't speak. You don't need to.

Everything unsaid is already there—in the air, in the breath you hold, in the way his fingers twitch like he's thinking about reaching for you.

The pull is quiet but insistent.

The kind of pull that makes your stomach twist, makes your lips part without realizing it.

You almost lean in.

Almost.

And then—

Tangerines.

The memory hits too fast, too vivid.

Peeling them for Mingyu, the juice sticking to your fingers, the way he always laughed and told you you did it wrong.

The way you swore you'd never forget the weight of losing him.

Your chest tightens. The warmth drains from your fingertips.

You take a step back.

"I—I should go," you murmur.

His expression doesn't falter, but something in his eyes softens.

Like he already knew.

You don't look back as you turn away.

You don't want to see the disappointment.

You don't want to feel it.

But when you're alone in your apartment, staring at the untouched tangerine on your counter, you think about the way your hand almost moved.

About how, for just a moment, you let yourself want something again.

You didn't reach for it, but you almost did—and that's what scares you more than the grief ever did.

Because that would mean letting go of the part of you that still clings to Mingyu's memory.

♢

The Relapse

You feel like you're suffocating, like every breath is heavier than the last.

It's been building for days now, this pressure in your chest, this thing that's always lurking just beneath the surface.

And today, it's worse.

You walk past a fruit stand on your way home, the scent of fresh tangerines hitting you first, and it's like the world suddenly spins too fast.

You freeze, your hand instinctively clutching at the strap of your bag as the memories hit all at once.

Mingyu's laugh.

The way he would tease you about peeling them "wrong," but he'd eat them anyway, because it was you.

His voice echoing in your mind, his touch, the warmth of him next to you.

And then... the crash.

The accident.

The time lost, the year you can't remember.

The pain of waking up and realizing you'd lost him twice.

Your vision blurs, and you find yourself stumbling, gripping the nearest lamp post to steady yourself.

You can't breathe.

The world seems too loud, too overwhelming.

You try to shake the memories off, but they cling to you, the grief so raw and unbearable.

You don't know how to make it stop.

You make your way back home, your mind swirling in the chaos of it all.

You can barely think straight, your heart heavy and full of longing for someone you can't have, someone who doesn't belong to you anymore.

The phone buzzes in your pocket—Joshua.

You glance at it for a second before shoving it back in your bag.

You don't have the energy to deal with him.

Not now.

Not when you're drowning in this endless, suffocating grief.

♢

Joshua presses his phone to his ear again.

It rings.

And rings.

No answer.

He exhales slowly, thumb hovering over the screen like calling again might change the outcome. His brows furrow, jaw tight.

"Sir," Laura says gently from the doorway, clipboard in hand. "They're waiting for you in the meeting."

He doesn't look up right away.

He just stares at your name on the screen, the call finally cutting off.

"Right..." he says, slipping the phone into his coat. "I'm coming."

But he walks a little slower than usual.

And when he enters the boardroom, his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.

♢

The calls keep coming, one after the other, but you're too consumed in the spiraling mess inside your head to even check.

Every message, every buzz feels like an intrusion on your overwhelming thoughts.

You just need to be alone.

You need the silence, the space to just breathe and fall apart.

But the silence only makes the memories louder.

You don't know how many hours pass like that—curled up in the quiet, phone facedown, grief sitting heavy in your bones—until the world moves on without you.

And when you finally look up, it already has.

Days slip by.

Maybe a week. Maybe more.

The sky outside shifts from gray to black to gray again. The untouched food spoils. The messages pile up.

You sleep too much and still feel exhausted. You shower once, maybe twice.

And somewhere in the stillness, the calls stop.

The texts slow.

The silence begins to feel different—emptier, colder.

That's when you notice it.

Joshua has been distant lately.

The messages have stopped coming as frequently. His smiles feel less warm, like they're forced.

And you can’t figure out why.

You know he’s always been there—constant, reliable—but something has shifted.

Maybe he’s giving you space. Maybe he’s waiting for you to reach out.

But you can’t help but feel that something has changed.

♢

Let Me Meet You There

You walk into the lobby, mind preoccupied, when you spot him standing by the elevator.

His eyes find yours immediately, and you instinctively look away, not ready to face the quiet disappointment you can sense in him.

But he's already moving toward you.

"You've been avoiding me," Joshua says, his voice quieter than usual, edged with something you can't quite place. "Why?"

The question hangs between you, thick and unspoken.

Your throat tightens, and you don't have an answer.

You want to say something, anything, but the words aren't there.

The silence stretches long enough that it feels suffocating.

You try to shrug it off, but he's not buying it. You see the way his eyes flicker with frustration, a flash of hurt that stings more than you expected.

"Why are you ignoring me, YN?" He repeats, and it feels like a weight pressing down on your chest.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

You can't explain why.

You don't even know yourself.

You just keep pulling away, and it's easier to do so than to face whatever this—whatever he—might be.

He doesn't say anything else.

He just turns and walks into the elevator, leaving you standing there, your heart heavy in your chest.

Later, you realize he hasn't sent you any more messages.

No more check-ins, no more casual hellos.

And it bothers you more than you care to admit.

♢

Another few days pass, each one dragging you further into the quiet of your own thoughts.

You're exhausted, not from physical fatigue, but from carrying this weight of grief you can't shake.

It's as though your world has been on pause, and everyone else has somehow moved on.

One day, you find yourself facing him again.

It's in the lobby again—your elevator doors sliding open just as his do across from you.

"YN..." He calls out, and you turn to him.

He glances at you, his gaze holding a certain quiet intensity, like he's been waiting for the right moment.

But he doesn't rush to fill the silence. He lets the space between you breathe.

Finally, he speaks again, his voice soft.

"I'm not asking you to open the door, YN. Just... crack it. Just once. Let me meet you there."

There's no urgency in his words.

No desperation.

Just a quiet plea.

His eyes, though, stay steady on yours, unwavering.

"You don't need to go back to who you were. I love who you are now."

His words linger in the air between you, and for a moment, you think you might say something back.

But then the tightness in your chest returns, the grief that holds you captive.

You can't move forward, not yet.

You want to, but the weight of everything stops you.

And so, you leave before Joshua sees your tears.

♢

The Visit

You didn't plan to go today.

It just... happened.

You found yourself standing in front of the door you hadn't crossed in what felt like a lifetime.

Mingyu's mom answers, the same warmth in her eyes, though there's a hint of sadness there.

She always greeted you like you were family, even when you felt like a stranger.

"YN," she says softly, her voice holding so many unspoken things.

She steps aside to let you in, as she always did.

It's different this time.

The silence feels heavier, the weight of the years without Mingyu filling the spaces between you. But as you sit across from her, there's a strange comfort in the quiet.

She pours you tea, and for a moment, you both sip in silence, the clinking of the cup the only sound.

You're seated outside, a simple table and chairs arranged just beyond the sliding doors.

The breeze stirs the air, and the faint rustling of leaves fills the space, while the sound of tea settling in your cup lingers.

It feels peaceful here, as if time has slowed for just this moment.

Finally, she speaks. "How have you been, dear?"

The question isn't just about today.

It's about everything.

The time since Mingyu's passing. The time since you were lost.

You manage a small smile. "There's... someone. He's been waiting for me. He's kind. Patient. He never pushes—but he stays."

A quiet hum leaves her lips, something between understanding and sadness. "That sounds like someone who really cares."

You nod, eyes beginning to sting. "But I haven't been able to let him in. Not really. Not when I still think about Mingyu every day."

She doesn't speak, so you continue—softly, like a wound you're still scared to touch.

"I miss him. So much. But it's like I'm lost in that grief, and I don't know how to move on. I don't even know if I should."

Mingyu's mom looks at you with the understanding only someone who's been through the same grief could have.

"I know you miss him," she says gently, "We miss him too. But it's okay, YN. It's okay if you want to let go."

Her words hit you harder than you expected.

You blink back the sudden tears, the weight of it pressing down on your chest.

"It's not about forgetting him," she continues, her voice a soft anchor in your storm of emotions. "It's about living with the love he left behind. And... I'm glad there's someone else now, someone who can make you smile again."

You meet her eyes, and the vulnerability in them makes your chest tighten. "I don't know how to let go of him. It feels wrong."

"It doesn't have to be wrong," she reassures you, her hands folded in her lap, calm and steady. "You don't have to forget him to move on. You just have to allow yourself the chance to feel something else, too."

You take a shaky breath, her words circling in your chest—unfamiliar, uncomfortable.

They don't erase the grief, but for the first time, they make space for something to sit beside it.

"I'm not saying you have to be ready," she adds, "But don't let Mingyu hold you back from what might be waiting for you. He would want you to be happy."

The weight in your chest lessens, the tears that had once seemed endless now falling in soft, quiet waves.

It's hard, but somehow you understand.

You understand what his mom's words are.

And she's saying that you can love him and still move forward.

You can keep him in your heart without letting him define your every step.

The thought of Joshua surfaces slowly—his quiet patience, the way he never asked for more than you could give, the way he waited.

And for the first time, you let yourself sit in that thought.

You don't run from it. You don't shove it away.

It lingers.

You don't say anything.

But you start to cry.

Mingyu's mom doesn't rush you.

She doesn't fill the silence. She just reaches out, wrapping her arms around you like she's done before, like a mother would.

You crumble into her.

And when the tears slow—just enough for breath—you whisper into her shoulder, "Can I please let go now?"

It's not really a question.

It's a plea.

An apology.

A confession.

She pulls back, tears in her eyes too. She cups your face in her palms, gently, like you're still fragile.

"Yes, it's okay, YN. You're not betraying Mingyu for loving someone else. In fact, he would want you to do that. He would want you to find love again. So yes, YN... you can let go now."

For a moment, you just stare at her. Her words hang in the air, and something stirs deep inside you.

It's like she's asking you to let go of a part of yourself, but also giving you permission to free it.

You blink, the weight of it all pressing down, and you look at her the way you would look at your own mom—seeking the permission you didn't know you needed.

The tears come again, soft at first, and then they overwhelm you, flooding your vision.

Before you can stop them, your shoulders shake, and you cling to her like a child, feeling the comfort of her embrace envelop you.

Mingyu's mom holds you tight, her own tears mingling with yours, as if she's also letting go of a piece of her son in this moment.

She had always hoped you would become part of the family one day, especially when Mingyu was planning to propose, but now she must let go of that dream too.

The realization hits both of you at once—you will be someone else's daughter-in-law one day, and she will have to step back, just as you are stepping forward.

In that quiet space, there's a release for both of you.

"Okay," you breathe.

When you part from the hug, you let out a soft chuckle—wet and a little cracked.

Embarrassed, maybe, for unraveling like that in front of his mom. But it's the first laugh you've let yourself have in a while.

It makes you feel lighter somehow.

Like something in you is finally releasing.

"Thank you," you say, voice steadier now.

She gives you a small, knowing smile. "You've always been strong, YN. And I will always be proud of you, just as Mingyu will be."

You hold her gaze for a moment, her words slowly soaking in, not just in your head this time—but in your heart.

"Okay."

♢

You leave the house of Mingyu's mom later that afternoon, the weight on your shoulders lighter than when you'd arrived.

The clarity you've been craving has finally arrived, but there's something else, too.

Something unexpected.

You think of Joshua.

Of his quiet patience.

Of the way he's been waiting—not for you to be the same, but for you to meet him halfway.

Just a crack in your door. Enough to let him in.

And he'll be there.

♢

Meeting Halfway

The office door opens with a soft creak.

Joshua glances up from his desk just as a girl steps in—a cozy cardigan draped over her shoulders, paired with a sleek blouse and dark jeans. Her long black hair flows naturally, and a tote bag hangs lazily over her shoulder.

There's something familiar about her energy: unbothered but observant, like she's used to moving through people's spaces and quietly collecting the things they miss.

"Hey, kid," Joshua says, his voice softening in a way you haven't heard before.

Not the softness he gives you—something older, something threaded with a long stretch of shared time.

"Thought you already left."

She rolls her eyes. "Needed to grab my tablet charger you keep stealing. Seriously, Joshua, can't you buy your own charger? Where does all your lawyer money go?"

Joshua just chuckles. "Right. I'll buy one soon."

"Buy one today, please. Or buy me one, and you can keep my old charger. Deal?"

"Alright, alright, I will. Isn't your boyfriend waiting for you already?" Joshua deflects, changing the subject so that the girl would already be done with her business.

It works, because the moment Joshua brings up her boyfriend, she turns pink and rushes off to grab her so-called stolen charger.

You blink, startled by the easy banter, by how quickly the room shifts in tone.

It's his sister—the one who buys bags of lemons for him. You've seen her in photos, the ones Joshua had shown you.

He stands, moving to the side of the room as she ruffles through a drawer. She doesn't glance at you until she's already at the door again.

But then she pauses, turning back.

Her eyes meet yours, curious.

Not in the way people tend to be curious about pain or rumors—but curious like she's heard things.

Her gaze is kind, steady.

"I've been hearing about you," she says casually, the edge of a grin playing at her lips. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Then she lifts a hand, gives Joshua a mock salute, and disappears around the corner with a muttered, "Don't screw it up, old man."

Joshua exhales a laugh under his breath.

And then you're alone, with him.

Again.

But something feels different.

Not because of the girl—though her presence lingered longer than she stayed—but because Joshua doesn't fill the silence with reassurances or affection.

He just... sits.

Quiet. Waiting.

You don't even know why you came.

You're standing there with your hands in your coat pockets, unsure of where to look.

The carpet?

The light filtering in through the window?

The man sitting a few feet away who never once stopped waiting?

You sit.

You don't say anything at first. You're scared to.

Because once it starts, it won't stop.

Your voice, when it comes, is brittle. "She's funny."

Joshua glances up, surprised. "She is, that kid," he says, smiling despite himself. "She's very strong, though. I'm proud of her."

You nod, a ghost of a smile on your lips.

Then a pause.

"She loves you," you add, quieter this time. "I can tell."

He doesn't respond to that. Not with words.

He just watches you, and it's not with hope—not this time—but with patience.

And something else you can't name.

Maybe faith. Maybe quiet grief of his own.

But then he speaks.

"How have you been, YN?"

You take a deep breath, trying to ease the tightness in your chest.

"I thought... I thought once the worst was over, it would feel lighter."

Joshua shifts in his chair, leans forward just a little. Not enough to crowd you. Just enough to listen.

"But the grief doesn't disappear," you continue. "It just... changes. Some days it hurts like a knife. Other days, it's just this—" You gesture vaguely. "Weight. In my ribs. In my throat."

Your hands tremble. You look down at them.

"I want to love you, I really do. But I don't know where to put this grief."

There it is.

Everything that's been clinging to your skin since the memories. Since the silence.

Since the last time you heard Mingyu's voice, and how it still echoes in the quiet spaces you can't escape.

Joshua's voice breaks through, quiet but steady.

Like a breath of fresh air after being trapped in a stuffy room.

"You don't have to put it anywhere."

You look up.

He meets your eyes. "You don't have to get rid of it to love again. You don't have to tuck it away or hide it or make it smaller for my sake."

You blink.

He takes a breath.

"I'm not here to erase what you had with him. I never was. I know he meant everything to you. I know part of you is still holding his hand."

Your throat closes up. The tears come faster than you can stop them.

"I'm not asking you to let go," he says. "I'm just asking if you can let me hold the rest of you."

You don't answer right away.

The grief still sits heavily, but now it's different.

You've already whispered those words to Mingyu's mother, and her quiet reassurance is still fresh in your heart.

It's like the weight has lightened just enough for you to breathe, to feel that perhaps, just perhaps, it's time.

Joshua doesn't push.

He just waits, his presence steady and calm, like the breath of fresh air you've been needing.

"I know it's not easy," Joshua says, his voice soft, "but you don't have to let it all go at once. Just... let me be here. Let me hold the pieces of you that are ready to be loved."

You finally meet his eyes, and for the first time in so long, you feel the tightness in your chest ease.

You've been afraid—afraid of forgetting, of dishonoring what you had with Mingyu—but now, you see Joshua's quiet sincerity, and you know it's safe to trust him with what's left of your heart.

"I..." You swallow, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm scared. I don't want you to think that by letting go of him, that I'm... forgetting him."

His gaze doesn't waver. "I know you're still grieving. And I don't love you despite that. I love you with it."

You blink, caught off guard.

"I want you," he says gently, "not just when you're ready. Not just when the weight is gone. I want you in your joy, your hesitation, your ruin. All of it. I want the you that's still healing. The you that still hears his voice when it's quiet. I want the you who came here even when she didn't know if she could."

Joshua's eyes soften, then, quietly, he rises from his chair.

He steps around the desk, past the armrest of the visitor chair beside you.

And kneels—slowly, purposefully—in front of yours.

He doesn't reach for you right away. He just looks up at you, waiting, offering.

When you don't pull back, he gently takes your hands in his.

And for once, you don't flinch.

You let him.

"I'm not waiting for a lighter version of you, YN," he says, voice steady even from the floor. "I'm here because this version—grief and all—is worth loving too."

You look at him, and see the sincerity in his eyes.

And that's what does it.

Because for the first time, it doesn't feel like you have to shed something to be loved.

For the first time, the grief doesn't feel like a wall—it feels like a bridge.

You breathe in slowly. Then out.

"I'm still scared," you say, voice trembling. "But I want to try. I want to meet you halfway."

Joshua's fingers brush yours.

"Then that's where I'll be."

And maybe that's what love is, after all—not the absence of pain, but someone willing to walk through it with you.

♢

When Tangerines Give You Lemons

The cemetery is quiet again.

Same winding path. Same rustle of trees. Same soft morning light threading through the leaves.

But this time, you're not alone.

Joshua walks beside you, steps slow and steady, a respectful distance kept until you stop at the headstone. He doesn't say a word. Just waits, hands tucked in his coat pockets, gaze lowered.

You crouch down, brushing a few fallen leaves off the stone.

His name is still there. Still weathered. Still real.

You set the paper coffee cup beside it—same brand, same blend. His favorite.

And maybe this time, it's not a ritual of holding on.

Maybe it's a ritual of remembering.

Of honoring Mingyu.

You sit there for a moment, fingers brushing the rim of the cup, heart beating steady in your chest. The grief is still there. But it no longer swallows the whole sky.

Then slowly, you rise.

You don't look back.

Instead, your hand reaches out.

Joshua takes it.

No hesitation. No words.

Just warm fingers folding around yours.

You glance back once, not out of doubt—but gratitude. You smile at the grave, soft and certain.

Then you turn to Joshua.

And smile again.

Not because the pain is gone.

But because it's no longer all that you carry.

Later that night, Joshua moves quietly around the kitchen.

The soft clink of porcelain, the hush of the kettle.

He doesn't ask questions when he sees you with that faraway look again.

Just brews the tea the way you like it—not too hot.

You're lying in bed with your phone face up beside you.

You scroll back through old messages.

You know which thread you're looking for before you even start typing his name.

Mingyu.

You open it.

There's laughter in those texts. Playful teasing. Good mornings and I'm-on-my-ways. A love that bloomed like spring and died like winter came too soon.

You don't reread them all.

You don't need to.

You know what they meant.

You press and hold the thread.

Delete.

A long breath leaves your lungs.

Not relief. Not yet.

But release.

You roll over and see another name at the top of your notifications.

Joshua.

The message is simple, sent earlier in the day.

No rush. I'm still here.

And he is.

In your kitchen.

Making you warm lemon tea.

Life has many ways of teaching you how to feel.

Happiness, sadness, grief, love.

It's made you forget, and made you remember.

It hurt you, but it healed you.

With time, and with the right person.

At the right time.

Even if you didn't see it before, even if you refused to before.

But now you do, and he's staring right back at you, waiting.

Always waiting.

Always there, never pushing, just steady.

Because life has many ways of teaching you how to feel.

And you learn that when tangerines give you lemons?

You don't forget the tangerines, you just learn to love the lemons.

just imagine ; svt | masterlist

🌻

a/n: this was so difficult to do! i only had one idea in my mind and that was to make yn from my mingyu fic the very same yn in this joshua fic hahaha!

so anyway, this is me confirming that this is kinda like part 2 of déjà vu but differently. i've had this idea since march of this year bc i kept getting joshua reqs and i said "eh, why not?" but in a way that connects my own fics with each other, like my very own cinematic universe 😂 i've done it before in my nct fics and i wanted to do it again in my svt ones and tbh, this isn't the last one bc who said i should stop at one connection? 😉

fun fact: i first decided the title would be that, then decided i want the same yn from the mingyu fic to be in the joshua one—but i wasnt sure how to tie everything in hahahahah! but it worked, i stuck to it, adapted to it, and made it make sense as long as the title stayed 😂

anyway, i hope u enjoyed this story! i'll see u in my other stories bc i have a lot planned out for this year and all are svt fics ☂️

questions? send your thoughts! feedbacks are much appreciated!

🌻

182 notes · View notes

hwaslayer · 5 months ago

Text

wildfire (cs) | thirteen.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 7k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, we catch a lil moment with belle 🙄, crying .. lots of crying, just lots of hurt and heartache, more misunderstandings, we see a bit of parents from both sides - esp san's dynamic with his father, flashback scene with smut: oral (f. receiving), 🤠, praises, lots of sweet kisses and tender moments, some nipple play, soft and slow smut!!

—a/n: fic announcement soon!

If the texts yesterday afternoon weren't nerve-wracking enough, it was the downtime in between the texts and seeing San that had you ready to curl up in a ball out of anxiety; fetal position, rocking back and forth as an attempt to rid the feeling. San hadn't texted much after deciding the two of you should talk the following day, and you never questioned why he couldn't just see you the same night he had told you he needed to talk.

you: 😞 you didn't even look my way when you walked back into the office and i haven't heard from you all day.

you: i hate how all my papers and presentations are due this week. plus ppl have been weird, idk. i just wanna cuddle 😭

san: i'm sorry. it's just been a day.

you: that's never stopped you before... ☹️ what's wrong, san?

san: we should talk, baby.

you: oh.. okay. so let's talk tonight? i just need to finish up a few things, and i'm halfway done on most of my papers and presentations. i think they can wait a bit.

san: no, you should finish up. i've got a ton of things to catch up on so tonight won't work. can we do this tomorrow? i'll come pick you up once we're both done in the lab.

you: are you sure?

san: mhm. i'm sorry again, it really just has been kinda all over the place today.

you: it's fine, san. as long as you can promise me we're okay?

san: we will be. i'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? try to take breaks and rest well.

You accepted it, even if it felt excruciating and painfully long.

These things never turn out well, and you knew your case wasn't gonna be an exception. You were afraid for it, you were nervous and you were wondering what San might do to try and lessen the blow of whatever was coming.

He wouldn't hurt you, right?

He meant it when he said you two would be okay, right?

Even if he tried to be as reassuring, everything about it felt off and cryptic. None of it felt like sunshine and rainbows, none of it felt like the San you felt in love with. None of it felt like the giddy excitement, the comfort, the safety you had come to know and love.

You hated automatically assuming the worse, but nothing was preventing you from doing so— not even San.

Today was actually pretty uneventful, nonetheless. Despite the wait and silence from San, you felt like you managed to get by in one piece. It still felt like everyone was looking at you; like they had all known your deepest, darkest secrets. Like they had been following your every move, especially while you were with San. It still felt awful, but you had learned how to push aside because people could talk and assume— but they would never know the true story.

And who knows? Even if you tried to explain yourself, they wouldn't get it.

You didn't really owe that explanation to anyone, you think.

The only other weird part about your day was when you had tried to help Belle earlier since you had some downtime and she brushed you off completely. She had been avoiding you, and it was pretty obvious she was letting the talk get to her head. She didn't maintain eye contact with you, she didn't acknowledge you, and she didn't talk to you the way that she used to.

—FLASHBACK

You walk into the lab, passing by a few of your labmates with a tiny, toothless smile etched on your lips. There was no Sunwoo around, but there was Belle; yet, she still hadn't turned to acknowledge your presence. You had gotten through your to-do list for Sunwoo's project, leaving you with extra time to spare today. You hadn't been able to dedicate a lot of your support to Belle lately due to all those technical issues you needed to troubleshoot for your project with Sunwoo, and you figured this would be a good time to make up for it.

Unless she had other plans.

"Hey Belle!" You come to her desk, pulling the courage from deep down within you to approach her first. She looks up at you, a brow cocked up before returning her attention to her laptop. "I have some time to help—"

"No thanks, I'm good." She doesn't look at you. "Just so you know, I don't really need extra help anymore. I've got everything figured out already."

"Oh, okay." You step away from her desk, fiddling with your fingers while you stand there looking dumb. "Are you sure?" She pauses her typing before finally looking back up at you with her brows knit tightly together.

"I just said it, didn't I?"

"I-I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure since I had the time and I haven't been able to help you out as much cause of Sunwoo's project."

"Why don't you go and use your extra time with Professor Choi since you've been doing that anyway?" She gives you a look that settles in the pit of your stomach. You don't say anything to her, even as she shuts her laptop close and stands— brushing past you to get to one of the behavior rooms. You feel a bit hurt, and your other labmates aren't even paying attention to the whole thing; or, maybe they are, and they just don't wanna say anything to dig deeper into the wound.

So, you turn on your heel with your head down, returning to your desk to continue your data analysis in silence.

—END

You try to tell yourself that it doesn't really matter— that you didn't need anyone's reassurance or validation. It hurt despite not being super close to Belle, but you knew she thought of you in a different light now and that wasn't really fair. You could see how it'd look problematic on the surface, but you thought she knew you better than that.

Guess it's also your fault for assuming.

When it's time for San to pick you up at your usual pick-up spot, you grab your keys and head out— still not having changed out of your outfit for the day. You try to take slow steps to not seem too eager, but you can't help it when you see San parked in his usual spot. This time though, he isn't watching for you in the rear view mirror.

"Hey." You swing the door open and slide in. San gives you a small smile, followed by a:

"Hey." He watches as you dip forward to kiss him on the lips like you always do, and he surprisingly takes it. You were getting ready for the rejection or some kind of pull back; but, to San's own knowledge, he did it because he knew it'd be the last time he could savor it.

"You okay? Were you able to finish everything you needed to?"

"Uh, yeah. Think so." He says with a subtle chuckle before driving off.

"Are we going to your house?"

"Thought we could sit at the view and talk, if that's okay with you?" You slowly nod, keeping your eyes trained on San as he drives.

"Okay. You're scaring me, Sannie." He shakes his head.

"Please don't be."

"Then why couldn't we just talk about this like normal at your place?"

"Y/N, you trust me, right?" He quickly looks at you as he comes across a red light. You silently nod, just in time for him to drive off and continue onto the destination. "Okay, so trust me." He's still being so cryptic and distant that you don't even know how to respond. You quietly sit back in your chair and watch the surroundings pass you by, trying to settle the queasiness you feel building in your stomach.

These things never go well, and your case doesn't seem to be a one-off.

San continues to remain silent as he drives the rest of the way to the view, the music softly filling in as background noise that's enough to distract you. When he pulls into the small empty side lot and parks his car, he lets out a sigh and sits back.

"How was your day today?" He asks softly, still avoiding contact with you.

"It was okay, I guess. Better than yesterday."

"That's good."

"San." You adjust your position so you're looking directly at him, body facing him. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"I don't know where to start."

"You have to start somewhere." He sighs again. "You know, whatever it is, you can tell me. We can figure this out together." You raise your hand to cup his cheek, almost somewhat of a gesture to force him to look at you. And for a minute, you feel him relax under your touch. You can tell he wants to turn and kiss the palm of your hand like he usually does, but he doesn't. "Sannie—"

"We should stop this." Your mouth slightly drops even though you don't know what to say. Your eyes widen, your touch turns cold. You retreat your hand while you let the response sink, San still keeping his gaze out of the window because he truly can't dare to look at you right now.

He'll fold.

He'll forget all about this and risk everything for the both of you.

He shouldn't.

"W-what?"

"We need to stop this, Y/N." He finally looks at you and his gaze feels like an icebox. Everything feels so cold and distant, even if it's supposed to be a front; it's working, and it's fucking you up completely.

"All of a sudden? I-I thought we were fine, what happened? What did I do wrong?" He shakes his head.

"Nothing. It's not anything you did, I'm just trying to be realistic here."

"Realistic? I thought you didn't care about the outside noise?"

"We're only prolonging the inevitable, don't you get it? Everything is going to come crashing down on us whether we like it or not. No matter how hard I try to stop it, this is what it'll eventually come to." You don't really understand where he's coming from or what he's getting at, but it's too late— you feel the tears steadily streaming down your cheeks.

Then, you're sobbing into your hands and you feel pathetic. But San feels terrible, he hates this. He doesn't wanna do this but he's conflicted between right and wrong, between being selfish and letting you go. "San, why?"

"Y/N, please hear me out on this, okay?" He's barely able to answer.

"Why? You ask him again. You cry in his passenger's seat, wiping it away with your sweater sleeves. "You said I could trust you, a-and that you wouldn't hurt me because you didn't care about anyone else."

"I need you to understand that I'm doing this because I care about you."

"But, I love you." San shakes his head as tears streak his own cheeks.

"We're being too selfish." He looks at you. "I am. I'm being too selfish and I don't need this to ruin things for you more. I need to put you first—"

"Why do you get to decide what that looks like for me, San?" He doesn't respond. "So, you don't want this?" He lets out a shaky sigh. "Us?"

"That's far from how I feel and you know it."

"Why can't you just say it back? Why can't we just let this be? I don't care—" You tug on his arm and he grips your hand before shaking his head.

"Because this is already hard as it is. Y/N, listen to me." He pleads, cupping your cheeks. He finally looks deep into your eyes, his thumb gently caressing the surface. The life in his eyes are gone. The glow, the stars. Now, his eyes are dull. They're holding back. They don't show you anything. "We should stop. We need to. Namjoon and the dean are discussing your future at the school, and I need you to keep going in this program. I need you to keep going forward even if that means I can't be right there with you every step of the way. You deserve to be here and you deserve to finish this until the very end. You've worked so hard to get here, and I refuse to let them lose out on you simply because of me."

"This makes no sense to me. Why do we have to do this? We can just be more careful and plan better. We can just—"

"I'm trying to protect you."

"Protect me? From Namjoon and the dean? Or are you trying to protect yourself?"

"I don't give a damn about me, Y/N!" He's a little angrier with this response but you know it isn't directed towards you. It's towards Namjoon. The dean. Yunho and Iseul. This whole fucked up situation. "I'm always gonna put you first. It's always been about you and it'll always be about you." You cry a bit harder at his answer, unsure of what to make of this entire thing. You don't know if San really means this or if he is just trying to protect you. You don't know what to do, you don't know if you should keep trusting him the same way.

You don't know if you can, and that's probably because you're blinded by all the overwhelming emotions you're feeling right now.

The both of you sit in this thick silence, your cries now filling the space while San tries to muster up the last bit of his energy to try and make you feel better— to get you to understand this better.

It's not that he wants to, he has to.

"I don't—" He swallows thickly. "I don't wanna do this but I have to. You have to understand." He says at a whisper, more tears streaming down his red-stained cheeks. "You have to understand, baby. Please." He begs. "I don't want them to do anything to you and I don't wanna jeopardize your future. Just listen to me. We have to do this." He leans forward to cup your cheeks and wipe your tears away with his thumb.

"No, we don't." You almost whine, but all San can do is shake his head and sit back in his seat.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but I have to do what's best for you." His voice shakes. "I really am so sorry, sweetheart." He answers lowly, wiping his remaining tears before retreating back into his shell and showing off his cold demeanor for the remainder of his time with you. "I should get you back."

"I should've never trusted you. I should've known this was all too good to be true. You didn't care." You cry, repeating all this nonsense to try and get him to hurt the same way as you somehow. Because he'll never understand. Everything had led up to this and you were still unprepared for this. Even though you knew you'd be here at some point, nothing would have ever prepared you for the way your heart drops to your stomach; the way you feel nothing but thunder and rain.

Blue and grey.

He does, though.

In fact, he's probably hurting the most because he had to pull the trigger and let you go.

He hates it. He fucking hates it.

He's trying to drown out the rest until he gets you back to your building because he can't take it. He can't take hearing you cry anymore, he can't take hearing you say these awful things because you're angry at the moment. He hopes that you'll see where he's coming from eventually because all he's ever wanted to do was protect you and keep you safe.

All he's ever done was care about you, and you only.

All he's ever felt was love for you, and you only. You showed him what love was like again and he'll never take that for granted.

This was him showing you love. He needed to put you first.

"I care about you more than anything. I'm trying to do what's best—"

"Without involving me? Deciding for me? Yeah." You wipe away at your cheeks once more before unbuckling your seatbelt. "Whatever San, save it." You tell him before swinging the door open and stepping out. "You were just trying to protect me. I get it."

"Baby, don't be like that. Please don't make this harder than it already is. I would never intentionally hurt you. You know this." He tries to reach for your hand, but you move it away.

"You don't get to call me that anymore." You roll your eyes. "Anyway, goodluck, San." Is all you say before slamming his door shut and storming off. You begin to cry to yourself again, feeling sorry for yourself and stupid. You know deep down that San was only trying to do the right thing and that he was trying to protect you. But, right now, you're angry, you're sad, you're upset. You feel empty and betrayed and you just need to feel this out in order to let it pass.

This too shall pass.

When you head upstairs, you quickly pack up a few things, along with your laptop and other school-related necessities before locking up and heading to your car. You feel a migraine coming on, which definitely means you should take it easy and stay behind; but, all you can think about is getting to your mom and being away from school for a few days.

Nothing's better than a mother's love and comfort, even though you aren't entirely sure how she's gonna react to this, how she'll feel about San.

In the end, you don't hate him.

You can't.

You could never.

—FLASHBACK

"That was a good girl's date, wasn't it? We got massages, our nails done. Now we're eating a banana split under this nice weather." Your mom chuckles. "You need to come home more often."

"I know, I know." You scoop up a good helping of the banana split, internally conflicted on when is a good time to let your mom know about what's been going on. She would probably be surprised and scared for you, but your mom had a good way of choosing her words. She had a good way of being there for you but making her concerns known without pointing fingers or putting any blame on your actions.

"How has school been? Your friends?"

"They've been good. We've all been busy with our labs."

"Jiung's been good? You think you guys are all gonna stay in the labs you're currently rotating in?"

"He's good, yeah. And I think so, they all seem to be enjoying it."

"How about you?" You poke at the banana before scooping another helping. Your mom can already tell there's something else on your mind, but she's gonna let you take the floor and open up about it when you're ready.

Which is now.

You just don't know if she's ready.

"Uh, yeah. It's been good!" You give her a small smile. "I'm still deciding on my route, but it's been good." Pause. "There's actually something else I've been meaning to tell you."

"Okay, try me!" She chuckles. "What is it?"

"I've been seeing someone."

"Oh?" She laughs. "Well, isn't that great?! I mean, you never needed a man, okay. But, as long as they make you happy and add value to your life. I just want you happy." She laughs. "Who is he, where did you meet? Tell me everything!" You sigh and take a deep breath before starting.

"We met at school. In the lab. Because.. he's my rotation professor." You give her a look, afraid of what she'll say. She stops mid-bite and almost chokes, setting her spoon down before looking at you with knitted brows.

"Your.. what?! Y/N—"

"Mom, please. Just hear me out before you start assuming and saying things. He didn't abuse his power, I didn't throw myself on him, okay? It just happened." You immediately say and look at her with puppy eyes. "We just happened. We grew feelings for each other and just clicked really well. We've been keeping things lowkey."

"But, Y/N. Honey, I say this sincerely. What if people find out? Not that I want them to, but they will." You shrug.

"I don't know, we'll figure it out."

"H-how old is he?"

"32."

"Oh, okay. He's young."

"And handsome." You rest your chin on the palm of your hand and smile. "His name is San. Choi San. He's pretty popular in the bioengineering and neuroscience world."

"That's good." Your mom is slightly shutting down and you know it's because her thoughts are traveling at 100mph and she doesn't know what to think or do.

Or say.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I know you're worried but I'll be fine, okay? I promise. It'll all be fine." You add to break the silence and reach for her hand.

"I just don't want him to hurt you and then you lose everything you've worked so hard for over him."

"I just don't know where this is gonna take us. Things feel too overwhelming. Like.. I just don't want any talk getting into his head about us."

"It could really ruin things for the both of you, Y/N. Please be smart about your actions. Don't throw everything away because of him. That's all I ask. Just by the looks of it, I know he makes you happy and you're riding cloud nine, but you need to remember who comes first— yourself."

"I know. I hear you. I don't mean to cause any unnecessary worry or anything."

"No, you're not. Lovey, I'm your mom, I'm always gonna worry regardless. But, I trust you enough to make the right decisions and to take care of yourself. I know you'll be smart and I know you won't be completely reckless. I'm not gonna lie, this— this isn't a 'conventional' relationship and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet." She sighs and looks at you with a hint of concern in her eyes. "I'm trying hard to see this from your side, not from my side, and I think it'll take me time to get used to. In the end, I just don't want you to get hurt. I don't want people to think bad about you, and I don't want you to lose everything you've worked so hard for."

"I know, but it's all okay. I promise." You promise her, but you don't even know if you believe the promise yourself. "You can trust him." She doesn't say much, and you can tell she's trying her hardest to swallow her true emotions.

"Just becareful."

—END

San picks up the phone to call Namjoon, hands slightly trembling. He's still sitting in his car, still sitting in the same spot because it's his turn to cry and let out all his feelings. He hits the steering wheel before running a hand through his hair, second-guessing all his decisions.

Why did it have to come down to all of this? Did he really have to? How long before he folds and comes back to you?

Before he says fuck this all together and chases after you?

He keeps trying to remind himself that he needs to protect you and let this blow over. He keeps trying to remind himself that it'll all be worth it and you both will find your way back to each other again.

In time.

"San."

"It's over with." Is all he is able to say before Namjoon lets out a small sigh on the other end.

"I'm sorry, San. Look, just give this time—" Quite frankly, he doesn't wanna hear it anymore. Not today, not tomorrow, not for awhile.

"It's fine." He cute him off. "You don't have to say it. Just please make sure nothing happens to her."

"You got my word. I'll figure this out. Don't worry." San ends the call before he's digging his head into his hands and cries.

And cries.

Because now his days are going to blend back to the black and white filter he used to have on. He'll never experience that warmth, those colors, without you around.

He'll never witness where the sea meets the sky, when the sun sinks below the horizon. When dawn meets dusk.

His days will be monotone and dull, lifeless and cold. Gloomy. Days he had prayed to get past and never return to.

But, he's here again.

And somehow, this pain feels worse this time around than the first time.

—FLASHBACK

San sighs when he pulls up to his parents' house, aggressively shifting the gear to park before taking a moment to himself. He wasn't happy when his father left him a voicemail, scolding him for the rumors going around about him dating his student. He was quick to call him names and demand him to make things right before his name could be tainted in the industry. San isn't gonna lie, he's always looked up to his father. Things changed when San started making a name for himself in the academic industry, creating some kind of competitive tension between the two. Well, San never felt that way. His dad strongly did though, for whatever reason.

He never understood it. It's whatever.

What San wasn't having was the fact that his father kept calling you a little girl who only wanted to use him to work her way in and up.

He slams the door to his car, adjusting his hat and his jacket before tapping the code into the keypad on the front door.

"San, is that you?" He hears his mom's sweet voice call out to him. He smiles softly when she comes into view in the hallway, opening her arms for a hug. "Please don't mind your father, you know how he is. He's just concerned." She gives the back of his neck a reassuring massage.

"Mm, yeah. I can feel the concern especially when he starts calling me out my name."

"San." His mom gives him a look before his dad looks up from the paper he's reading on the couch, forehead crinkling when he sees his son walk in.

"Why are you here?"

"Hi to you, too." San says while his mom steps in the middle.

"Honey." She turns to his father.

"So, what was up with that voicemail?"

"Why don't you tell us what's been going on with you and your so-called girlfriend? Do you even care about yourself or what this could do to your career? You're so careless—"

"So what if I'm careless! You don't even know her so you don't have a right to do that!"

"Are you actually that stupid, San? Do you know how damaging this could be for you, for us?"

"What does this have to do with you?!" San's voice raises.

"It has everything to do with us! Everyone thinks you either forced that girl into a relationship or she threw herself on you and you stupidly took the bait!"

"Even if I said it wasn't like that, you wouldn't listen anyway!"

"Are you serious about her?"

"What makes you think I'm not? We're two grown adults who are capable of making our own decisions and knew the consequences from the very beginning."

"And you think she'll stay? Someone that young and who is just getting started with her life, basically. You think she'll stay and be there for you when times get rough?"

"Absolutely." His dad scoffs.

"Is that so? Wishful thinking. You couldn't even keep Iseul and now you're downgrading to a st—"

"Hey!" San's mom cuts off his father's statement. "That is enough from you. Don't finish that sentence."

"You have no idea what Iseul put me through!" San's tone is louder to match his father's energy. "I found somebody who genuinely and truly cares about me and who I am. That isn't enough for you? Just because she's a student, but a grown adult at that?! You can't even be happy for a second? You still find a way to be on Iseul's side even though she cheated with my bestfriend!"

"Maybe it's time you realized you pushed Iseul away. That was your own doing. And this girl? Don't come to me and make me tell you 'I told you so' when she leaves after she's gotten everything she needs from you." San's dad is fuming in front of him. "How could you be so sure things will be smooth sailing with her, hm? What makes you think this can work?"

"This is fucking bullshit, I'm not explaining myself to you. If you don't wanna be happy for me and support me, then so be it."

—END

San thinks maybe his dad was right; maybe this wasn't meant to be, and was just supposed to be another fleeting moment, another lesson.

Even though deep down, he knows it's far from it.

As he sits in his home office, he scrolls through old pictures of you and him together— you, pictures you've sent him. He feels the rush of sadness hit him like bricks, his chest almost physically hurting from the ache. He has this sudden urge to text you and call you, tell you how much he misses you.

But, he stops himself.

What if you stopped caring? What if you were so mad at him that you hated him?

He couldn't bear with it.

If only he knew how much you cried and yearned for him every night, if only he knew how much your head hurt while you laid on your mom's lap while she ran her hands through your hair— gently cooing you and shushing you to help you get some sleep.

If only he knew.

"Mom, I'm sorry." You cry and cry, laying your head on her lap as you let everything out. "You were right, I messed everything up. This was all so stupid. I'm so stupid."

"Don't say that." She shushes you and tries to coo you. "Don't ever say that again." She looks at you. "What happened?" You gather the strength to tell her everything that's been going on. How deep your relationship went with San and how well he took care of you. How you weren't always the most careful but the only reason why things blew up was because of Hae-jin, Iseul and Yunho. How Iseul and Yunho just keep trying to get in between, how Jiung even went to Professor Kim about all of this.

How San broke this off claiming he wanted to protect you and put you first.

How utterly sad and betrayed you feel.

"I'm just so tired of feeling this way. I hate how alone I feel. I hate how much I miss him. I hate how this unfolded the way it did."

"I'm so sorry, honey. You need to let things be for now, okay? I know that's not what you wanna hear, but you need to. Especially for school and yourself."

"Why does anyone care? Why does it matter?"

"People have nothing better to do, and I'm sorry it had to be those two and Jiung."

"I'm so tired, mom. When will this pass? What did I do wrong? Why did he leave so quickly?"

"Lovey. You did nothing wrong. It wasn't you at all, and it wasn't San either. The circumstances are just tough. You didn't know it would play out this way and I'm sure he has his reasons."

"What if he's just using that as an excuse? What if he really doesn't want this anymore?"

"If he really cared about you, why would he lie, Y/N? I'm sure he was doing his best to protect you both, especially you. I know it hurts right now, hun. But, maybe this is for the best." You don't wanna hear it even though your mom might be right.

Maybe this is for the best. Maybe this was just telling you this could never work between you two.

No matter how hard you both tried.

San's urge to text or call doesn't lessen as the next few days go by, especially when he notices he hasn't seen any trace of you. He'll usually see you walking towards the biology building for Yunho's class or making your way to the dining hall with the girls.

If San hadn't overheard Sunwoo telling his lab mates that you were sick, he would've gone crazy.

It still doesn't help that you're feeling unwell and he can't do anything about it.

"Sunwoo." San pokes his head out of his door, causing Sunwoo to lift his head from his laptop and shift his attention towards him. "Can you meet really quickly?"

"Yeah, sure thing. Be right over!"

"Thanks." San heads back to his desk and lets out a breath, waiting for Sunwoo to come. It takes him less than 5 minutes to finally make his way into the office, rubbing his hands down his jeans. "Hey." San looks up at him. "Thanks for coming in on short notice."

"No prob! What's up, Professor Choi?"

"I wanted to talk to you really quickly because I wanted you to hear it from me directly. Starting next week, we'll be losing Y/N's support. She'll be heading to Professor Kim's lab."

"O-oh. Okay. Damn." Sunwoo ticks his head to the side. "Professor Kim with the steal." San chuckles a bit.

"Yeah." San can't even hide his sadness when he looks down at the papers beneath his hands that Sunwoo catches on and he feels bad. He still doesn't know the details and he never will, but if it's one thing he can gather right now, it's the fact that the room feels cold and empty.

It's the fact that San literally has to force himself to smile and deliver this news like all is okay and no big deal— when in fact, it fucking is.

Sunwoo feels so bad.

"So, I know she's out sick right now, but will I still get to see her before she goes? I wanna talk to her to wrap things up, too."

"When she returns, we'll make sure she has time to close loose ends with you and gather her things."

"Hm." Sunwoo nods slowly. "Okay."

"I'm sorry this came up so suddenly, but I had to make a few changes around here. We all thought she'd be a better fit with Professor Kim."

"I see. She's super smart and incredibly great at what she does, I know she'll do well in whatever she does and wherever she goes." San nods.

"Yeah, she will." He sighs. "There's another rotation student that I might bring in next quarter that might be a good fit to work with you, too. His name is Baehyuk."

"Cool. Down to meet whenever the time is right."

"Thanks, Sunwoo."

"No, thank you for always giving me some help and pushing me forward." San gives him a small smile. "Everything will work out."

"Yeah." Is all he could say in response. Because he hopes it will.

Right now, it seems like a far reach.

All San wants to do is love you, rather than hiding just how deeply in love he was with you.

—FLASHBACK

"Here, baby." He turns to hand you a plate with a smile on his face. "Think you can help me dry the last of these dishes and put 'em up?"

"Course, chef." He chuckles, watching as you tip-toe with nothing but his shirt on to reach over and place the dry dishes into the proper cabinet. You follow suit with the last three dishes, setting the towel aside while San wipes away the water droplets around the sink. "We did it, babe! All clean."

"Sure did." He laughs, caging you in against the counter to kiss you sweetly. "Thank you, baby."

"You're welcome." You giggle. "Thank you for making dinner."

"As long as you enjoyed." You nod.

"What do you wanna do for the rest of the evening?"

"Mm, we can watch a movie and fall asleep here on the couch without any worry."

"That's fun." You smile.

"Or, we can do other things that I have in mind." He brushes the hair away from your face while you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Ooh." You reply in a sing-song tone. "Care to indulge?"

"Absolutely." He says just as he swiftly carries you and wraps your legs around him. You squeal as he walks over to the couch and gently plops you down onto the soft cushions, wasting no time to attach his lips to every inch of skin he can. He slowly hovers over you, hands roaming up your shirt and tugging material along with it as he continues to move upward— exposing your cute pink panties from beneath. He sinks to his knees and pries your legs open after fixing your position to the edge of the couch. "Let me make you feel good, love."

"Yes please, Sannie. Please." You beg, watching as San slides down your panties and tosses them aside. His hands caress your thighs, giving them a good squeeze while laying open-mouth kisses along the surface. You continue to watch him, biting on your lip when he hovers over where you need him at most. He licks a stripe up your folds, causing your head to cock back against the cushion. He begins to gently kiss and suck at your heat— a satisfying, breathy moan leaving your lips as you let San relish being in between your thighs. He laps away at your clit, tonguing down your pussy as if he had been deprived of you for years.

You love/hate how good he is at this. "Babe—" You moan loudly, hips now working on their own terms against his mouth. He subtly nods as he continues to suck and lap away at your heat, tongue keeping you wet and filthy; just the way he likes it. "God, right there—" You whine, hips rolling upward and grinding against his mouth, his tongue.

You used to be so shy.

Now, you're not afraid to tell him what you want and he fucking loves it. "Oh—San— gonna—" Your statement comes out broken as you continue to work against his mouth, orgasm crashing down like a harsh wave against the shore. You grip his hair, body twitching as San continues to latch on and groan against your pussy; incredibly hard while watching the way your body surrenders all. "Fuck." You whisper, still twitching due to the aftershocks from your first orgasm of the night.

"That's my girl." He's back to kissing your thighs, hands gently rubbing up and down your leg as a way to soothe you.

"Need you." You tug him by the shirt to plant a messy kiss against his lips— shirt soon to be discarded on the floor, along with his sweats.

Now you're on his lap, slowly riding his cock just the way he likes it— the couch's throw blanket resting against the small of your back and draped along San's lap.

It's his favorite position after all.

"Mm— just like that, baby." He whispers against your lips as you continue to ride him slowly on the couch. "Just like that." He repeats. "You're my good girl, right? Just mine?" He asks lowly and you nod, letting out a sweet moan as he pinches your nipple and watches your head tilt back in pleasure. "Oh, fuck— just like that." His head rests back against the couch, feeling your walls brush against him and drag against his rock hard cock. "All mine."

"Mm'fuck, Sannie." You keep your head back, intense pleasure bubbling at the pit of your stomach. You take him slowly, deeply; his cock hitting all the right spots every time you do a 'lil tug and pull— hips carefully rolling against him.

"So fucking sexy." He groans. "God, you're everything." His lips drag against your skin, tongue swirling around your perky nipples as your hands tug on the ends of his soft, black hair. "Everything to me." He whispers as if your skin could hold all of the universe's secrets. The blanket is barely keeping up with your movements. San's hand comes up along the base of your neck, bringing you back down to envelope your lips with his.

The kiss is full of hunger.

The kiss is slow and steady.

The kiss is messy.

You break the kiss first, body slowly crumbling in his grip when you feel your high approaching quick. You moan loudly, breath ragged as you pant; hips slightly picking up the pace to push yourself further and further until you reach the edge.

"Oh—" San matches your moans. "That's it, sweetheart. Cum for me." He praises you, voice deep— tone sending vibrations all the way down to your core. "Give it to me. Wanna feel you cum all over this dick, angel." Hearing San talk the way he's talking is enough to make your coil snap. He continues to coo you as you come undone on his lap; stuttering in your movements and trembling in his grip. He places his hands on your hips, fingers digging deep into the flesh while he fucks up into you— reaching his high shortly after you with a loud groan and hiss. "Fuck, that was so good, baby." You giggle, forehead against his while his hands gently caress and your back. You leave a tender kiss against his plump lips, and he chases with a few repeated kisses before bringing you down with him on the couch. The both of you lay underneath the throw blanket, now properly covering most of your bodies while San holds you from behind. He has his propped up by an arm while you both watch the show on TV, but San finds his thoughts wandering elsewhere at some point. He begins to look around the house and notices how different it feels since you've been around.

Good different.

A space that used to he so grey, so lifeless; now has remnants of you everywhere.

Your polaroids.

Pictures of you and San in frames.

Your little stuffed animal keychains and rings thrown onto the kitchen island, or the room. Or even his desk in the office.

Your little post-it notes. Your favorite chips and snacks littered around the pantry.

You were there everywhere he turned, and he finds it's one of his biggest blessings.

Especially when you lay here on the couch with him, completely not minding the idea San proposed of just falling asleep on the couch together while sorting through movies.

You agreed so quickly and so happily.

No matter how big or small, most ideas just seemed silly in his last relationship.

But, now he has you— someone who is happy to just be with him and spend time with him. No matter how big or small the idea, the plans.

San loves you.

And he'll never take it for granted.

—END

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

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awxcoffeexno · 11 months ago

Text

the patient - part 1

toxic!loganhowlett x reader

like real people do

series masterlist | fic masterlist | part 2 >>

summary: logan's in love w jean, ur in love w logan, and he comes to your bed every night that he cannot spend in hers.

content: more angst, the awxcoffeexno special. terribly, terribly toxic relationship between reader and logan. they both need copious amounts of therapy. this one-shot takes place in the x-mansion where reader is a student of the professor and logan is... well, logan. reader also has powers, you'll learn of them as you go.

warnings: all mentions of jean are actually referring to the phoenix who is extremely mentally unstable, logan mandhandles the reader quite a bit but never hurts her, the relationship portrayed is horribly toxic.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: wowowow im so happy the world is FINALLY sharing in my obsession with logan, he's such a cutie patootie. this fic isn't my best but it's an idea I've had for soooo long that i just had to have a crack at it.

you can sense him coming 3 minutes before he's made the decision to seek you out.

you sit up straight at your desk, eyes flicking down to the research paper you've been working on with the professor. you decide to get the last paragraph in, fingers scrambling across the keyboard to finish your thoughts before logan makes you forget everything.

and then he's at your door, throwing it open without knocking.

"good." he grunts. "you're here."

stepping inside, he locks the door and turns to you. and fuck, you hate this. you hate when he's like this, you hate everything about this arrangement.

well, almost everything. how could you possibly hate the way he walks over to you and leans down, brows set in a deep frown, pulling you up by your jaw? how could you possibly hate the desperation, the need, in his eyes as he he flutters them shut, pressing his lips to yours? how could you possibly hate the smell of wood and tobacco and... logan... as he slips his hand off your jaw to painfully wrap around your throat?

but when you slip into his mind, quiet as a cat, making sure not to give your presence away, his thoughts are swirling mostly with one person. and it's decidedly not you.

"no," you gasp into his warm mouth. "no, logan."

he grunts in protest, moving his mouth from yours to your neck.

"logan, please..." you try again, pushing your hands between you both. you reach for his cheek but grabs your hand in a vice grip and yanks away from you. he will not let you touch his cheek, he will not let you use your powers on him.

"what?!" he snaps. "what do you want."

he hardly even notices his own actions as he uses the same hand to also ensnare your other wrist, squeezing tight to let you know not to even attempt wriggling free.

you swallow thickly and look into his glowering eyes. "you know i don't like it when you... when it isn't about me. when it's about... her. i can't stand it. it feels... wro–"

and his free hand is wrapped around your jaw. you've done it again. you read his mind without his permission after years of him telling you off about it, years of him telling you to "back the fuck off, bub."

but you can't help it. you do it all the time. he lets jean do it. why should you not be allowed? why are you always lesser to him than she will ever be?! especially when she hurts him so much he has to come to you to lick his wounds clean?

jean's... broken. you're perfectly fit. jean's hardly ever there to give him what he needs, you're always by his side, before he even knows he'll need you. it's just how your powers work, and you don't hear him complaining about using the future for his advantage. and yet all he does is think about her. even when he's here to fuck you.

"logan, how about you let me go and go back to carrot top?" you say, evening your voice out in that way you do when you know you can talk people into things with your hand on their cheek. but your hands are both trapped in his crushing grip and there's no way he's going to let you move them.

he's glaring at you. gauging you. and you slip into his thoughts again – yup, he's dreaming of ways to kill you. you snort. well, at least you're on his mind now.

"get the fuck out of my head." he growls and lets you go roughly, shoving you back. you stumble back but hold your ground. he would never actually push you hard enough to hurt.

that's the easiest part about loving logan. feeling safe even when it hurts.

you take a deep breath and restart, voice still even.

"logan?"

you watch his shoulders sag in defeat as he leans against the window sill and sighs.

"logan, i... i just..."

he looks back at you, eyes sluggish. tired. "you just what?"

"i don't like being your... stress ball." you sit down on the bed, massaging your temple because you cannot read his thoughts anymore. he's spending a significant amount of his energy blocking you out.

"don't hear you complainin' when i'm balls deep in you most nights."

you cringe at the crudeness and rub your face. he stands up a little straighter at your reaction, having realised over the years that all your anxious tics reside in your face. the way you rub it, the way you harshly massage your temples, the way you chew on your lip and pull the little baby hairs out of your hairline. and now you're all that is on his mind.

he carefully pads over and crouches down in front of you. eyes softer, way gentler. his hands slip around your wrists again and tighten but this time his grip is friendly, comforting. he's trying to ground you.

"me on your mind, sweetheart?" he says, voice heartbreakingly soft. you simply nod so he continues, "mmm... i hurt you today?"

a lot, you want to say. all you ever want is her. your jean. the jean you'd do anything for even when she's trying to drag the animal out of you and turn you into a beast, logan.

"a little." you settle.

he shifts both your wrists into his left hand and slips his right palm onto your cheek. "how can i make it better?"

you swallow thickly. you have to choose your words wisely. none of your powers would be useful right now, so you lean in and kiss him first.

"i'm scared." you sniffle. "scared of losing you to her completely. you love her, lo. so much you let her chop your mind up into little pieces and put it back together every single day."

his eyes fall in a rare moment of vulnerability so you don't let go of your momentum.

"she's hurting you so much," you whisper, aching to reach out for his cheek and take it all away. "i cannot keep fixing the wounds that she creates."

his eyes snap up to you at that. "well, if you don't want this–"

"no! that's not what i'm saying, james! fuck, i want you! i need you. but it's all i've become to you," you whine with a pathetic sob. "a way to fall asleep at night. a means to an end. a solace from all the pain."

"when you know that that's what this is... that you can take my pain away..." he looks at you, his dark eyes accusatory.

and fuck, what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? what kind of doctor turns a patient away? a patient so desperate for care?

so you close your eyes and let the ache wash over you. several minutes pass in silence and he starts to get up.

"you're right," you finally mumble.

when you open your eyes he's still looking at you.

"i'm sorry. i don't know why i did what i did. of course i want to help."

he's immediately scooping you up and lying you down. logan's easy like that. he never asks too many questions.

he kisses you, softer than he ever has before and starts working his way down your chin and neck and... how does it always end like this for you? with you giving in and him having his way with you. with you under him, tears in your eyes because you do not want him to stop but it hurts so badly to be his second. his second priority, his second thought, his second need.

will you ever be able to deny him?

"open your mouth, sugar." he coos, slipping two fingers past your chewed up lips to let you wet them.

your eyes roll back into your head as you suck on his digits, body reacting in tandem with his.

no, there is no way you would ever deny him anything.

"logan?" you whisper when his pulls the fingers out.

"hmm?"

"i love you."

"i know."

i have once again risen from dead. i hope you liked this xxxxxxxxxxx ily

love, d <3

part 2 >>

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine angst #logan howlett angst #logan howlett xmen #xmen #xmen fanfiction

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ezisregrettinglifedecisions · 4 months ago

Text

How are you not dead yet? - MV1/33

Pairing - Fem! Dutch Olympic Rugby Player! Reader x Max Verstappen Warnings - Probably wrong terms of endearment in Dutch and like one maybe two swear words Type - Written Fic Word Count - 1.2k Summary - Max and Y/n always call each other before and after their races and matches. Y/n unfortunately has a knack for ending up mildly hurt. Links - My main masterlist is here And as it is a part of my F1 x Olympics series, the masterlist is here

Requests are open <3 Hope you enjoy it! 💙 P.s the lion is me because my neck is actually so done for

P.p.s I am so sorry this is so late. I've been so busy and had very little motivation. But thank you for bearing with me if you followed me for this xx you're very appreciated xx

You were sat by your phone waiting for Max to pick up. It rang twice before his voice rang out from the speaker.

“Pre race call. Checking in copy?” You let out a small laugh at the tradition of answering your calls like a radio message.

“Loud and clear Maxie. Whatever would I do without my pre race call.” You were sat on your bed in the Olympic village, one of your teammates smiling as she leaves the room noticing the phone call. “I'm fully unpacked before you ask, been here for an age already but my laptop is set-up and I've got some of the build-up on now. Let's hope Spa gives us some luck.”

From the other side of the phone you could hear Max laugh.

“Schatje, you've got your first match tomorrow, You shouldn't be watching me race, you should be doing some final prep.”

“But someone needs to cheer for you and annoy every one of their teammates with the excessive cheering and yelling during race weekends.” You smiled to yourself thinking about the times that you had one of Max's races on while with your family last year only for them to tell you that you had to quiet down a bit due to the 'excessive yelling and crying'.

“I know liefje, there's no point even trying to get you to change your mind. I love you, I've got to go get into the car.”

Although you were slightly disappointed that you couldn't talk for longer, you knew that you both had things you needed to get on with.

“Okay Max. Have a wonderful race! Stay safe baby. I love you!”

“I love you more”

You smiled and hung up immediately making sure to turn on the volume on the laptop to hear the commentators. Twenty minutes later and the cars were out on track for the formation lap and you were sat very comfortably in front of your laptop holding onto the small stuffed lion that you had brought with you hidden in the depths of your suitcase.

“Come on baby you’ve got this.”

You knew he was incredibly far back, P11 was not the most ideal result from qualifying but the penalty was inevitable after having to change some of the car components. The lights went out and you watched the race gripping onto the small lion tightly throughout the turns and battles.

When the end came, the lion was certainly glad as noted by the fact that there was no longer stuffing in his poor limp neck, and so were you, very happy to see that Max had managed to fight his way back up to P4, and while it was not P1, neither of you could be happier with the result as the phone rung as soon as Max was available.

“P4 baby!” You declared excitedly into the phone as soon as the call had connected. “I’m so proud of you schat!”

His happy face filled the screen, a smile proudly on his face. “Someones happier than I am about the result.”

“Of course you should also be happy baby! After a 10 grid place penalty and fighting up to P4 that's skilled love! Come on be happy about it! Its a good result I promise.”

He smiled softly at you. “Thank you, that means a lot, especially coming from you darling… Now haven’t you got to go to practice with the rest of your team?”

You checked the time and groaned. “I didn’t notice… okay… love you baby… I’m so proud of you Maxie!” You called into the phone which was now facing the ceiling as you ran round the room picking up the gear that you needed for practice.

“Bye Y/n.” Max chuckled.

“Bye Max!” You said just before the call cut off.

☆☆☆

The preparation was tough, but worth it as you got ready rather confident in your team, and your own skill, before the match the next day.

The only thing left now was to make sure all traditions were wrapped up, and that meant calling Max.

Three rings and his face was filling your screen.

“Hey schatje. Excited?” He asked with a criminally bright orange scarf wrapped round his neck, presumably in order to demonstrate his support for the Dutch rugby team rather than a sudden switch to supporting Mclaren’s endeavors for the championships.

“And nervous. Mainly excited though.” You said trying to hold back laughter at the orange that could only be described as fluorescent. “Sorry off topic, but genuinely who let you buy that scarf.”

“Surely its not that bad liefje.” Max defended, clutching dramatically at the scarf wrapped round his neck.”

You grimaced jokingly. “I wouldn’t rest your hopes on that baby.”

Max shook his head, sighing in sad defeat. “Can’t believe you’d do this to me, right before your game as well, I’d got all dressed up, ready to support my darling girlfriend and I get insulted on my scarf.”

“Its deserved I’m afraid love. Look I’ve got to go now, love you Maxie!” You said waving into the camera and showing the little lion, sitting proudly on the bench in the changing room, neck still very much lacking in stuffing.

“Good luck Y/n! Love you! And love you too Aslan, wait what happened to his neck?”

“Don’t worry about it Max. Bye!”

☆☆☆

Twelve minutes.

Twelve minutes into the match and you were off for an insane amount of blood gushing from a very broken nose.

And a suspected concussion.

Twelve minutes of actual play time after over a week of stressing.

You were fuming, and to make it all so much worse, this was not the first time this had happened in the last 3 months. And Max was not happy last time, especially with your stubbornness and determination to keep on playing. He was not going to be ecstatic about this little excursion.

After you had been checked out and signed off on a broken nose and minor concussion Y/n was calling Max again. This time though, he picked up almost immediately, and instead of meeting the eyes of a smiling, excited Max, she was met with a raised eyebrow and a very disappointed (and concerned but he wasn’t going to let you in on that emotion just yet) face.

“Y/n.. schatje… love of my life… what on earth were you thinking going for that move.”

“I saw the opening and I went for it.”

“With no malice behind these words liefje… how are you not dead yet?” Max sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.

You were sat cross legged on your bed in the olympic village again looking into the camera as you gave him a shrug. “Miracle work?”

Max let out a laugh. “Yeah thats certainly a possibility at this point.”

“Love you Maxie… jokes aside thank you for always supporting me.” You said as you laid down, the phone propped up on the pillows as you laid on your stomach.

“Always Y/n. Always.” Max smiled. “Now make sure you don’t like fall off the bed in the night and die yeah? That would be embarrassing.”

“Oh fuck right off.”

This is a part of - F1 x Olympics Fics Masterlist for that series is found here

Thank you so much for reading! 💙

Requests are open for my normal fics if you wish <3

Feel free to reply to the post if you want to be added to the tag list for this series 💙

Tag List -

@simbaaas-stuff

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dontlookatme121 · 4 months ago

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here are the fics i enjoyed between march 11th-21st 2025! some new, some old. mostly smut so MDNI! (i may have forgotten a few)

characters: javier peña, joel miller, frankie morales, marcus acacius

my other fic rec lists: march 1st - 11th fic recs, main ppcu smut rec list (almost everything i read between july 2024 - feb 2025)

a/n: since people liked the last one, i’m back with more thots, fav quotes, and some must-read fics. i'm glad i could turn my smut addiction into a little hobby to share with others, i've had a lot of fun making these lists. PSA: my thoughts are a bit more crazed than the last one, sorry, the smut was just so good im losing my mind over here.

note to the authors: you guys are so talented it needs to be studied. thank you for sharing your art <3 *mwah mwah*

WARNING: some of these fics contain dark themes that could be triggering. i will try to label accordingly, but PLEASE read the warnings. not all of these are for everyone!

smut- ♡ angst- ★ fluff- ✿ dark- !!

♡ !! run by @almostempty (wc: 2k, oneshot) !! TW !!

pairing: marcus acacius x f!reader

summary: general acacius hunts you in the woods for ‘training’ then fucks you, duh [inspired by this post]

thoughts: …idek what to say about this besides it’s all i’ve ever wanted. sure, i could hypothetically be in a happy and fulfilling relationship one day… but i’ll never be hunted down in the woods by marcus acacius, sooo…

“Still fighting?” he murmurs. “Good.”

♡ !! OPEN WINDOWS by @pedgito (wc: 8.3k - oneshot) !! TW !!

pairing: Joel Miller x reader

summary: Joel's a pain in the ass neighbor, but fortunately he's fond of you. Alternatively, Joel's a creep and you're definitely into it.

thoughts: YEAH i’m into it. unsurprisingly another banger from @pedgito.

“You’ve been watching me?” Joel chuckles, his grip easing enough to let you pull free. “Not like you’re makin’ it hard.” “You’re sick,” you spit at him, heat rising in your cheeks. “Maybe you’re the one who needs help,” Joel counters, taking a step back. “Or, maybe it’s attention.”

★ The boyfriend act, part 8: "The one with Dante and Beatrice" by @capuccinodoll (ch wc: 12k - series) (★- only angst as of now?)

pairing: Frankie Morales x F!reader

chapter summary: Things are a little different in Frankie’s mind. Apparently, you’re in there more often than you think.

thoughts: HOLY SHIT I WANT THIS CHAPTER TATTOOED BEHIND MY EYELIDS. sorry. this is just so good, i have to speak my truth. i already made an offensively long reblog with some of my fav parts so ill try to keep this brief. here are some of the highlights: frankie’s pov (so the whole thing), the convo from the last ch in frankie’s pov, the textinggg, frankie worrying about the cats wellbeing, the sexual tension, the flirting, the conflicted feelings, the dinner convo, the shift in dynamic, literally everything.

♡ family matters part 1, part 2, & part 3 by @daryltwdixon (3 parts for now. plssss i need pt 4.)

pairing: joel miller x tommy’s wife!reader

summary: You and Tommy had been trying for a baby for years. When a trip to the gyno answers questions you didn’t even know to ask, your husband enlists the help of his one and only brother.

thoughts: AGHHHHDDJGS. what. the. fuck. this is so hot. read it.

“You’re tellin’ me,” he rasped, voice dripping in absolute filth and sin, “my pissy little brother never made you come on his cock before?”

★ ♡ !! Blind faith part 1 & part 2 by @stylesispunk (wc: 13.6k so far - series) ?? TW !!

pairing: priest!joel miller x nightclub dancer!reader

summary: Joel found you on a quiet evening when the chapel was empty, save for the flickering candlelight and the faint scent of incense clinging to the air. You were curled up on one of the wooden pews, arms folded beneath your head, chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep.

He cleared his throat, but you didn’t stir. He hesitated before reaching out, tapping your shoulder. “Miss?” His voice came softer than he expected. “You can’t sleep here.”

"Father, do you always wake up strangers like this?"

thoughts: jesus christ, this is so good. im obsessed with every aspect of this story, and i cant waittt for part 3.

(Quote from beginning of part 2:)

In the warm sunny spring of May when the night met the dark and lights reflected on the streets bustled with kids playing and families enjoyed meals. Joel was thinking about you. The cold had been replaced by the warmth irradiating from your smiled when you passed by, the way you spoke to him. The cold had left him on May 3rd, the night you walked into town with the kind of presence that made people take a second look without knowing why. Since then, things had shifted in ways Joel hadn’t expected. He felt it now, watching the world outside from the steps of the church. The night was warm, carrying the scent of fresh bread from the bakery down the street. Laughter echoed as children played in the dim glow of streetlights, their voices mixing with the low murmur of families gathered at restaurants. But Joel wasn’t thinking about any of them. He was thinking about you. Again, and again.

♡ Strawberry Swirl by @baronessvonglitter (wc: 1.9k - oneshot)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

summary: Joel fucks you on a Ferris wheel. That is the fic.

thoughts: this is exactly what you promised and what i needed, thank you.

"You enjoyin' yourself?" he asks, wrapping his arm around you. You look up at him, the breeze whipping his graying curls. Wrinkles line his eyes, more pronounced when he smiles, and you press a kiss to his scruffy cheek then one to his soft lips. "I think we both could be having more fun.."

♡ Booty Call by @cxrsed-angel (wc: 3k - oneshot)

pairing: Javier Peña x Fem! Reader

summary: Javier calls for a booty call and of course you cant say no, even its the first time he’s coming over to your place.

thoughts: thank you for feeding my delusions with this one. this is simply a top-tier javier peña booty call fic. im always so impressed when an author fits great smut and enough characterization to make them both likable and believable into a oneshot. chefs kiss.

♡ Give up by @talaok (2 parts)

pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

summary: Once again you've found an excuse to invite your neighbor over, except for once you might be able to make him look past your age difference and have a little fun.

thoughts: to sum this up; nervous old man joel gets his dick sucked, reader expects him to leave after, but he’s a gentleman and returns the favor. joel washes his hair, they fuck. AND ITS SOOO GOOD. tommy clocking him had me giggling and kicking my feet.

dividers by: hearts divider- @uzmacchiato, mdni divider- @strangergraphics, red line divider- @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

i fear that the harry castillo fics might take over the next list, so watch out.

#fic rec list #ppcu fics #ppcu smut #javier peña #javier peña fic #joel miller #joel miller fic #frankie morales #frankie morales fic #marcus acacius #marcus acacius fic #pedro pascal #smut #my post #fic rec #aggnm

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sibillascribbles08 · 7 months ago

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Big Ol' Rottmnt Fic Rec List

Hi, I've needed to do this for a while, so here's a big bundle of fic recs from me !

I've broken it down between one shots, chaptered fics, and series. I'll try to mention what the character focus is along with a brief summary and some personal thoughts. If you need more details I encourage you to check the fics summary and tags for yourself! I will only include an author's tumblr account if it's easy for me to find haha

One Shots

Mama's Boy - ashtreelane: Technically two chapters but it feels like a one shot. Casey Jr. angst, involving him finding out that maybe you can fix kraang infections and that he failed to save his mother. I love when people really pile the grief on Junior after all the fighting is over and the fic does it so well.

Forget-Me-Nots - GibbousLunation (AKA @klunkcat ): Hi, oh my god??? Leo and Mikey centric angst, in which saving Leo from the prison dimension has an insane ripple effect. Mikey dying? Nah he's going to start getting erased from every timeline and Leo slowly watches it happen (and refuses to do nothing about it). I utterly adore how this fic handles this concept. You see almost all of it from Leo's POV, noticing the little changes but writing them off as memory failures, because of how subtle some of it is.

Fight or Flight - pickledcarrotsandradish: Leo centric, post movie, Leo keeps waiting for his family to start lecturing him about all the dumb stuff he did during the invasion, and they aren't, so it's getting to him. A very neat narrative about how self loathing can warp our perception of how others see us. A++++

The Friend Zone Sounds Pretty Good, Actually - Cryptvokeeper: Eating this, eating this. You probably already know I love aroace Leo and this fic is an INCREDIBLE exploration of that. Even as just an ace person it hit SO many notes where I was just like "Oh god... I've been there buddy". And as a bonus the dynamic between Leo and Yuichi is v sweet. Love this a lot I've read it like five times.

Pink in The Night - unnamedmystery: Incredible April/Sunita fic. Like seriously this author wrote April's crush so well I think I was starting to fall in love with Sunita. Just incredibly cute all the way through, and great April writing, adore it.

《 until then, matriarch 》 - chiangyorange: HI OH MY GOD A nice chunky oneshot about Karai, about her being a leader, and it's phenomenal. It hits and hits and does not miss, really going in depth about her emotions involving her father turning into something wicked and having to destroy him, and how it ruins all of her good memories.

The Kindness of Collision - SpoonerizedSwiftness (AKA @splickedylit ): Hi I still remember the fic and the art suddenly showing up in the tag and then I was thinking about it for the next like five weeks aslkdjf A very interesting idea that when the turtles reach the age they were in the doomed timeline before things got reset, all the memories of their other life more or less hit them like a train. All of them have to comb through that information and it's a wonderful and emotional ride.

Chaptered Fics

Hamartia - Punable (in progress): Hi this is one of my all time favorite rise fics, mainly because in a way, it helped me come to terms with my chronic pain. It's Donnie centric and smack full of angst in all the best ways. Shorthand summary, an explosion in Donnie's lab almost takes him out (or kind of DOES take him out) and the recovery is not only long and agonizing, it may only go so far, and Donnie doesn't cope well with that.

Kick It Up a Notch - Brokenpitchpipe (completed): Hi this is my other all time fav rise fic. Donnie centric separated AU in which Donnie is raised by Draxum. My love for it stems a lot from the characterization of Donnie though, and even Draxum in this case. Not to mention that in a lot of cases it matches the vibes of the show. And in spite of all the humor, there's a few really gut wrenching moments. 10/10 will re-read.

Lightning in Our Fingertips Today - DaFlangsLairde (AKA @daflangstlairde-art) (completed): Leo and Donnie centric, mostly angst, with body swapping between the twins which results in Donnie finding out that Leo's ninpo hurts him. Love love love the character writing in this, and also how the swap is written.

Under Pressure - ParvumAutomaton (completed): Not sure this is a single character focused fic, but basically April goes cave diving and is out for a while, and the turtles get worried and go looking for her. This might be personal bias but as someone who gets really into caving stories, this fic hits the spot for so many reasons. A really great emotional ride, and if you wanna see April go through it then I super recommend it.

Nothing Haunts Us (like the things we don't say) - mad_and_thick_as_theives (completed): A lot of great fics by this author btw, but this one personally stood out to me. It starts of silly and light only to sweep in with the emotional weight. Turtles are all cursed with a truth spell, basically, but I think my favorite bit is who gets out of it first (and why). V sweet.

Creation of a Philospher's Stone - IgnisCanis (completed): Whoooo boy, if you want some Draxum centric character exploration this is a great one. It really fleshes him out as a morally grey character and also does a fantastic job at writing Mikey when he finds out.

The Ol Switcheroo - radishhqueen (AKA @radishhqueen) (completed): Haha not going to lie I have a few by this author (so I'll only tag them once) but MAN. Hands down my favorite take on future leo coming to the past, and maybe I'm biased because I like when those fics actually explore Junior's character in the process buuuuut I love it. Junior's already struggling to adapt himself to the present, and after getting caught up in a foot clan spell which summons his sensei to the present too it really doesn't get any easier.

Vigilantism for Fun and Profit - radishhqueen (completed): The Cassandra Jones fic ever. Zero contest. If you're uncertain about writing Cassandra because she had so little development in the show I encourage you to read this for inspiration (I know it inspired me a lot). It does such a great deep dive into her character post show and a bit of the movie too. Honestly anytime radishh has a Cassandra fic I am clicking.

Tried to Grow Up Good - Sroloc_Elbisivni (AKA @sroloc--elbisivni )(completed): The Casey Jr. fic ever. CRAZY in love with this post movie take on him. It's messy, it's fun, it's so so real and you get a good chunk of Casey Sr. in here too. Adore it.

Hold On (Or Three Times Donatello's Soft Shell Almost Killed Him, and One Time it Saved His Life) - dunk_on_em (AKA @spockazilla )(completed): If you ever want a bit of angst involving Donnie's shell this is my go to. Every chapter has an emotional swing, even the positive ones. And shows something most people might see as a disadvantage as a good thing, actually.

Atlas, My Brother - swampcryptid (AKA @the-name-is-rizzotherat)(in progress): Get your Raph angst, specifically involving him always shielding his siblings, this time via a curse. My guy is already going through it and I think it'll get worse if a solution isn't found.

I've Got You Under My Skin - Cass_Phoenix (in progress): More Raph angst, and some Donnie, a truly chilling exploration of the possible consequences to connecting with the kraang. This fic constantly has me on the edge of my seat, and constantly stressing for Raph.

What We Leave Behind (How We Start Anew) - iam57311 (AKA @iam-57311)(in progress): Any Baronjitsu fans here? An alternate take on canon in which Draxum and Splinter co-parent the kids since they're first born (made?) Hilariously while I love the Baronjitsu content in here, I think some of my favorite parts are actually with the sisters, Big Mama, and Draxum's sister who is so so cool I love her.

Proof of Redemption - iam57311 (complete): Another one of theirs! A short and sweet lil close to canon fic about Draxum steadily gaining the trust and affection of the Hamatos, with each chapter focused on a different character. I love how they're all paced out from each other, really hits how some are much slower than others to trust Draxum hehe.

No Crime* Only Brooches - OllieTheScribe (AKA @olliethescribe) (in progress): Well I have to get THE HypnoWarren fic in here. Such a fun take on these characters, I love love love the backstory they built up for Warren too, plus the dynamic between these two and the turtles after (eventually) become friends haha.

Minor Interference - bambiraptorx (AKA @bambiraptorx) (in progress): What can I say? This fic is delightful. Between the hilarity of the turtles going with Draxum just to mess with him, the lore additions for yokai and the Hidden City, HoH Donnie, and their slowly building dynamic, always eager for a new chapter with this one.

Series

A Butterfly with a Mechanical Wing - Amethyst_Goldenwind (AKA @amethystgoldenwind ): Donnie centric series about being a non-verbal autistic. I'm always fond of non-verbal/mute explorations of characters, and so far I really like how, because his family has grown up with it, all of it is very normal for them. The various forms of communication are delightful. Excited to see further entries.

Analogous Hues - alwerakoo (AKA @alwerakoo): It's a separated AU with similar titling themes as my own, needed to check it out. The titles are just about all they have in common though! This AU focuses a lot on the turtles (Raph and Leo with Splinter and Donnie and Mikey with Draxum). I love how this explores not only the dynamics of the two groups and how different they are, but also the dynamics between each of the siblings, also how some magic sibling connections can influence that. Not to mention the different home life in more ways than one. If you're into separated AUs that really dig into the turtles dynamics try this one out !

#scribs speaks #rottmnt fics #fic recs #rottmnt #long post #that's all for now #I may make another one down the line when I do a bit more catch up and find some new ones !#some holiday posts suggest showing fic writers appreciation #best way I got to do it rn #some of these fics are well known but I'm giving them a shout out anyway

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predestinatos · 1 year ago

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CHALLENGERS — CL16 & MV1 🏓

summary: the line between rivals and friends was blurred. and then you came. MINORS DNI!!!!

word count: 3.5k

tags: charles leclerc x fem!reader x max verstappen, implied cheating, flirting, them being horny boys, 3some vibes, heavily inspired by challengers.

warnings: smut (no sex but... everything else) dirty talking, cheating, cursing.

note: yes i've been obsessed with challengers and i thought the dynamics would look rlly fun on a fic!!! am 100% invested on making this a series! also i'm aware those are padel things in tbe picture but this is just for the cover aesthetics okay!

12:52AM

“You know I can beat him, right?” Charles’ voice sounded rough as he stood against the doorframe, confident smile spread across his lips, arms crossed against his chest, making his muscles stand out. You looked at him then, from your lying position across the hotel bed – one you shouldn’t be on – and shrugged. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”

The defiance in your tone registered like a cold breeze across his skin, causing him to shiver slightly yet not break his demeanour as he moved towards you silently, lowering himself towards you on the bed now, face inches away from yours. “I didn’t know you still needed convincing.” Charles noticed how you licked your lips as you stared at his, how for a quick second you almost forgot what you were talking about as your breaths melted into each other. His throat bobbed up and down as he swallowed, both of you so silent it could’ve been a scene from a nature documentary: prey seducing predator, but which is which?

“You asked” you replied, refusing to break the distance first, wanting to prove that you were stronger than he thought, that he needed something from you which he couldn’t possibly get, not anymore at least. You looked at his eyes, its bright colour now so darkened by something close to thrill over what was going on in that moment, a thrill you wanted to suppress. “Just wanted to see how good of a liar you were” Charles bit his lip, smile now growing slightly. Maybe it wasn’t thrill. Maybe it was actual amusement.

“You’re unbearable” you said, now turning your face away from him, rolling your eyes at his sheer arrogance. “You want me” he got up from bed, taking off his t-shirt as he searched for his pyjamas. His back flexed with every movement, muscles stranding out in his glistening skin. He smiled knowingly, because although he could not see your face, he knew you were looking. He always knew.

“Brave of you to think so” you shot back, getting up as well, grabbing your bag from the small armchair placed in the corner of the room. Rushing towards the hotel door, his frame stood between you and it – the ability to breathe, the absence of guilt, the absolution of uncommitted sins. “See, you’re still a bad liar” his bare chest rose and fell in front of you and Charles wished he could say he wasn’t about to crumble before you but that wouldn’t be true either. His confidence was only partially real, for he did not have the strength to do more than this, to test you and push you only this far – part of him knew you couldn’t resist, but he was never entirely sure.

YEARS EARLIER

The country club was boring. You didn’t know why your family insisted on going apart from trying to prove how rich they were, something which got exhausting too quickly. Sitting at the table, you played with the olive in your martini as your dad talked about “business” and your mom laughed about something.

The sun warmed your skin as your bare legs welcomed the heat gladly, the only source of some amusement in that place. It was tiring. Your brain felt like it could explode from lack of stimulation. Minutes passed at the speed of years. You had to do something, quick, or else- “I’m going for a walk” you said suddenly, or a voice said, part of your brain who was even more tired than you thought. Your family stood, staring at you briefly before nodding and continuing their tasks, like robots who were well instructed to continue their mission but not used to abnormalities.

Max was sweating. We would feel disgusting, unclean, even, were it not for how focused he was on the game, on his friend – rival, for a few minutes – in front of him. The tennis ball travelled from his racket to Charles in something near to slow motion for him.

Charles was amused. He always was, for he loved playing almost more than winning. He loved getting under his friend’s skin, seeing how hard he tried to beat him while his careless attitude ate him with each hit he took. There was something god-like about his commitment, his seriousness, that Charles admired, if not even envied. He couldn’t care as much about things the way his friend did – he was passion, Max was reason. That’s the way they always worked, and you could see it in the way they played, hear it in the way they grunted as they hit the ball with their utmost force.

“Okay let’s take a break” Charles said, throwing his racket carelessly on the floor as he walked towards the end of the field, towards his water bottle. Max stood in place, looking at his friend, wondering if he looked as disheveled as him – dark hair glued to his skin, cheeks red and a constant frown on his face from the sun’s insistence on affecting them. “It’s 30-all! You can’t just ask for a break when it’s 30-all!” his complaints were dismissed with a shrug of shoulders. “I just did”

Max inhaled heavily, used to this behaviour yet not immune to how much it annoyed him, and on his exhale, he felt his friend’s hands on his shoulders, massaging them gently. “Relax, don’t be so tense all the time,” Charles whispered, slight irony laced in his tone as he buried his hands in his friend’s warm shoulders from the heat.

“Don't stop now, I was enjoying it” your voice broke through them unexpectedly, causing them to turn their eyes towards you simultaneously. Max stared at you, his eyes locked on your teasing ones. But it was Charles who spoke first, in an attempt to match your tone. “And who are you, exactly?” Though you answered his friend, your eyes remained on Max's green ones, on the shy smirk growing slowly across his lips. The hands previously on his shoulders fell across them, brushing his back and finally leaving him altogether, as if melting from the heat. He barely noticed. Maybe he didn’t notice it at all. “I'm Charles” he walked towards you confidently, leaning against the railing that separated the court from the bleachers, one eye closed in a permanent blink due to the sun. You got up, looking, for the first time, at the dark haired man closer to you. Moving slowly towards him as you climbed down the stairs, you felt his defiant gaze, so different from his friend’s yet equally as alluring to you. Now as close to him as you could, your hand on the railing, mere inches away from his arm, you spoke. “And your friend over there?” Charles looked back, as if trying to recall who you could be referring to, prolonging a moment unnecessarily, only to allow his arm to brush against your hand as he turned back towards you, head tilted. “Why do you want to know?” Max’s racket felt cold against his burning skin, the image of his friend's toned back and tanned neck directed towards you, with a short skirt and tight top, causing him to wonder if he was hallucinating, overheating, going crazy. “Charles, she wants us to play more.”

10:45PM

He liked watching you, how you moved so softly, hands caressing your legs as you applied mosturizer. It was almost religious, how your breath guided his unintentionally, how he forgot everything for a few seconds, maybe minutes, maybe hours.

He leaned against the bathroom sink as you placed your foot on top of the toilet seat to better access some parts of your skin you could not otherwise reach. You felt his gaze, still so similar to the one he first used when he first layed his eyes on you – the same intensity, mind over matter debate circulating through his mind as he analyzed every inch of your skin.

“I’m going to win tomorrow” Max said from behind you; a certainty in his voice that made you chuckle with something close to frustration. You muttered an ‘okay’ as you continued your movements, your bracelets clinking against each other. “I’m serious. You know I’m serious” he repeated, frustrated at your nonchalantness, at your dismissal of his convictions.

“Don’t be patronizing” you finally said, turning around as you spread the remains of the cream on your arms and hands. Though you were in underwear and he was clothed, he felt vulnerable in front of you. The ring adorning both of your fingers didn’t make your presence any easier to bear over the years, despite his attempts at pretending it did.

“What do you mean?” he asked, eyebrows now raised, turning his head to follow your frame which walked towards the hotel bed. “You know what I mean, Max” your voice was stern, your head always high despite you being shorter, as if he was the one who had to look up to you, though he hadn’t, not really.

“You weren’t like this with him” he looked down now, his profile outlined by the bathroom lights. You admired his attractiveness, his intentional care to be clean, precise, as close to perfect as he could. You admired how his expressions never oscilated between extremes, or at least how he managed to hide it so well if they did.

“You don’t need me to tell you these things the way he does” you sighed. You had had this conversation, or something close to it too many times to count. “You have the girl, you have the championship, what else do you want, Max? You want me to constantly tell you you’re a winner, you’re a big fucking boy who’s so so good?” you continued, more aggressively than you perhaps intended, though it did not matter, not really, at least.

He looked back at you now, though he dare not move. His throat bobbed up and down now, and you noticed how his knuckles whitened slightly as he held the sink tightly. “Maybe I do” it was almost a whisper, the way he said it, trying to hide from the attention he so craved, his body manifesting more than he wanted to show.

You looked further down his body, to where your words seemed to affect him most, though he remained looking at you. You admired his silent boldness in contrast to Charles’ loud one. "I chose you, Max" your voice sounded velvety to him, almost driving him insane as he felt his cock hardening. He felt ridiculous. Maybe he was; his obsession with your approval was also an obsession with beating Charles' appeal to you. He might have won many battles but Max had won the war.

YEARS EARLIER

Charles was better - better looking, better skilled, and effortlessly so. Max thought all of this as he stared at the back of his friend's slightly burned neck, standing behind him in front of a bedroom door.

"Ok so, let's not fuck this up" Charles said, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a match. "She clearly wants us"

"Us?" Charles turned around at the question, incredulity written across his face. "Yes, us. Now which one she wants more... We'll find out"

Before he could protest at his friend's unapologetic confidence, the door opened. You stood there, oversized t-shirt being worn as a nightgown, smiling at the two boys.

Both of them frozen, lusting over you so obviously it was almost insulting, were you not turned on by the way their gaze explored your body. Charles had a signature smirk that did not care to hide where his imagination was roaming as he stared at your bare legs; Max, on the other hand, was overcome by a darkness that almost intimidated you, studying every inch of your body hungrily.

"You're just going to stand there?" you asked, half laughing, waking the boys up from their trance. They both rushed inside excitedly, causing you to giggle subtly. It was flattering, how much they seemed to crave your sheer attention.

“So…” you asked, moving to sit on the carpeted floor, trying to make them comfortable – which didn’t need much effort, as they seemed to make themselves at home promptly, Charles’ unbuttoned shirt exposing his chest to you, and Max’s own t-shirt was so tight it left little to the imagination.

“You liked to see us play” Max started, a newly found confidence reaching him, a smile matching it perfectly. Maybe you were the one to give it to him, your eyes landing on him as if daring him to speak, him specifically. Charles’ opened up a bottle of a cheap drink he found at the liquor store they had ran to just hours before, as they realized they might actually have a chance with you.

“I did” you answered with a nod, now looking at Charles, who offered you a glass, your fingers brushing his purposefully.

“So much that you wanted more” Max continued, so factual it could pass as arrogance – though it resulted in a blush from you. You admired his sudden calculated boldness, the way he brought the cup to his lips after saying those words, as if he had commented on the state of the weather.

“And you gave me more” you replied, trying to match his – maybe their – tone.

“Oh, we haven’t given you nearly enough” Charles now stepped in. He couldn’t help himself, not with you in front of him, not with the small room closing in on him as he felt your need grow along with his, along with Max’s, along with the cups and the drink and the sheets and the carpeted floor.

“You two do this a lot?” you asked, daringly, though the question had crossed your mind throughout the day. Was this enticing to them? Sharing a woman, pleasuring her together, driving her mad with their games, their touch and words?

They let out a soft laugh together, almost synchronized. They were both beautiful, though in opposite ways – Max’s features were hard despite his soft, quiet demeanor, while Charles’s were softer, more carefully sculpted despite his own careless behavior.

“What, go after the same girl?” Charles asked, looking at Max, who looked at him as well. They found it amusing and rather ironic, really. Everything was a competition to them, even if nothing got in the way of their friendship. What made you especially exciting was how they both wanted you, and how both of them were aware of that fact. They both know the game was on the minute you showed up, like a match they fought in the court.

Upon your nod, Max decided to speak up. He had to; it was somehow agreed and decided who would say what, an unspoken rule he seemed to have made with Charles but couldn’t quite remember. “No, not at all” he laughed, cup now empty as Charles grabbed the bottle and filled it some more.

“What he means is… You’re just that attractive” the brown-haired man spoke. Was he flirting with you, or were they both doing so, even if it came only from his voice? You couldn’t help but feel your whole body responding to how they looked at you, how they seemed to crave you with indescribable need.

“What about you two?” you asked now, blaming the alcohol – though you had barely drunk anything. Their eyes went from you to each other again, awkward and rapidly, as they blushed slightly.

“No, I mean… no we haven’t” Max said, causing a soft chuckle to come out of Charles, his friend’s shyness over the topic making amusing him. It’s not like they haven’t thought about it – not at all – but they hadn’t told each other this. This concept lived in their heads, and none of them dared to bring it up, though they had seen each other naked and crossed lines most so-called friends probably wouldn’t. But neither of them had the conversation about what it meant, or what it could mean, because they didn’t feel the need to. Not until now.

You shrugged it off, finishing your drink in a single gulp. Looking at those two men, you realized you couldn’t quite decide what to do next – you wanted to do so many things that felt too forbidden to speak.

You looked up at Max, his eyes so needy it made your blood pulsate in your veins, the certainty that he would do anything for your touch right in that moment causing you to shiver. Slowly, you moved towards him, his face so close to yours that he dared not move, not until your hands reached his neck and pulled him towards you, kissing him.

That seemed to shift something in him, his own arms holding you as if scared you’d leave, as if wanting to consume you all, taste all of you. His hand instinctively grabbed your waist, though you knelt on the ground and couldn’t – wouldn’t – go anywhere.

“Oh, fuck” Charles said, looking at the both of you. The sight should make him jealous, but it did quite the opposite. He felt aroused, more than he wanted to admit, watching Max controlling your body and movements, eyebrows furrowed from pleasure, as your own lips moved messily and erratic against his, not caring about how it looked. You were putting on a show for him as you savored all of Max – Max was simply savoring all of you, for he had forgotten his friend was even there.

You pulled away, however, now deciding you had to try the other man, who seemed to be in a state of pure bliss over you, your attitude, your movements. You barely moved towards him – you didn’t need to – as he rushed towards you his hand resting on your thigh and grabbing it tightly. He was more aggressive, more assertive and confident in his kiss. He didn’t let go of himself the way Max did, but then again he barely held himself back at all when it came to you.

Max was staring. He knew he was staring but he couldn’t look away. The sight was erotic, something out of his deepest, darkest fantasies – your hair being slightly pulled by Charles’ strong grip, your own hands on his cheeks as his tongue travelled across your mouth. Suddenly, his kissing went down to your neck, and you held him there as you looked directly at Max.

Just your look could have driven him insane, right there and then, but he wouldn’t let it happen. He was hungry for more of you, more of whatever was going on, wanted it to last as long as it possibly could. “Come here” you called for him, who obliged immediately.

At first, he mimicked Charles, but soon his mouth was on yours again and you felt both boys’ mouths on your body, the amount of sensations fogging your mind as you let them both consume you. You pulled Charles mouth to yours, joining the kiss you were sharing with Max. The three of you kissed – messily, sloppily, completely letting the primal, animalistic part of you loose.

You wanted to touch yourself. Wanted them to touch you, feel how wet you were, savoring all of you. You wanted them to touch each other for you – for your gaze, for your entertainment and fulfillment, the way they were doing so now, as you pulled away and watched their own mouths against each other.

Max was hard. He couldn’t think anymore, dizzy from the caresses he was feeling on his body, from the insanity of the moment, from everything and nothing. Charles was drunk – drunk on the intense rush flowing through him, from how hard he knew he was, from how fucking spectacular everything seemed in that moment.

You were in complete bliss. The two men before you were in absolute awe of you, yearning for you with fervent need, letting themselves go to the point where they even yearned for each other. It was time to stop it.

“Okay” you said, snapping both of them back to reality instantly. Both Max and Charles were shocked at how they felt nothing close to shame over the moment. In fact, they felt exhilarated, ready to keep going, to prolong the moment with each other, with you, forever. “It’s time to go” you continued, watching the glow disappear from their faces as they breathed hard, chests falling and rising rapidly. “What?” they asked in unison, something close to innocence returning to their faces.

“We’ll do this again, right?” Charles asked, getting up after you did, with Max following. He was aware that he was hard, his cock rubbing against the fabric of his boxers and shorts uncomfortably. And he was also aware that you were turned on, though he could only imagine how soaked you actually were – a picture that didn’t help his situation.

“Sure” you answered, seeing their gleeful faces one last time before adding, as you walked them to the door “one of you will. The one who wins tomorrow”, closing it on them before you could see the smile turn into a frown.

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pomefioredove · 1 month ago

Text

all masterlists from pinned can be found >> here <<

the final act

if you're reading this, then the queue has run out, I've muted my posts, and closed requests for good. important things first: ad perpetuam memoriam (maybe cauldron of the reborn and noble bell, too) will continue, because I like it and have committed myself to finishing it. I was initially going to move it to ao3 but since ao3 is always having some kind of problem, it'll stay here.

aside from that, I am choosing to abandon this blog.

this decision wasn't easy but, well, for the best. for the past few months my posts have not been landing- I've excused this for my series, as I know AU and/or canon-divergent are not going to be everyone's cup of tea, but even my requests have received lackluster responses, which have led me to the conclusion that they aren't being read, except by a few followers (mostly my friends, whom I love). I'm not shadowbanned, and I have over 3,000 followers who are not bots, so it's not for lack of audience.

I experimented- changing formatting, adding more descriptive summaries, updating my graphics, adjusting the queue, writing more, writing less, but with few exceptions, nothing has really worked. I took the month of march off because it was causing me so much mental stress, and since then I've just felt really depressed about it. the disappointing response, negative/rude comments, and expenditure of energy I gave to trying to turn a response, were no help. this is, as I hope you'll understand, disheartening- especially while seeing other writers get thousands of notes for similar styles and lengths of fics. if there were ever a sign from the universe that it's time to move on, that would be it.

I sincerely appreciate the few of you who left kind comments, tags, and asks for me to read- you were noticed, and you are very loved. I tried to respond to everyone I could. many of you will be joining me as I move on to other blogs, some of you will remain, I'm grateful for all of you. the majority of my time here has been extremely rewarding. I've met some terrific people in this fandom.

to those on my other blogs: I'm looking forward to having more freedom to write for you in the future!

to those only here: ...well, there are a thousand blogs just like mine, and if there's anything this experience has taught me, it's that they deserve the attention more than I do.

finally, I don't want to make it seem like it was any one person's fault; I know I'm bad at doing romance and don't have a good sense of humor, so my writing has always been about character moments, drama, and angst, which is generally not what people want to read; my only strengths in writing turned out to be my downfall, haha. so I think it's time to move on to projects and fandoms that are better suited to my style and strengths in writing o7

lastly, I've taken down some fics because I got mean comments on them and I'm a sensitive autist. salukes!

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zepskies · 10 months ago

Note

hi zep!! do you have a fic rec list for soldier boy or any fave soldier boy fics/writers in general?

Hey there!

Ah, I should've known this question was coming lol. The answer is, I do now! 💚

Stories are Soldier Boy x Reader unless otherwise specified. This is 18+ only content!

@waynes-multiverse -

Bad Reputation Summary: In a world full of careless supes, powerful people, and corruption on all levels, Y/N’s the typical millennial, trying to make the world a better place one good deed at a time. As a civil rights lawyer in New York City, justice, kindness, and selflessness are her motto. Her patience is tested, however, when none other than America’s ass himself shows up on her doorstep and needs help. [series complete]

Time After Time Summary: Unable to control your abilities, you’re stuck in the present with Billy Butcher, his team, and America’s first asshole. At this point, you’ve become Soldier Boy’s personal punching bag. But when an accident leaves you stranded in 1942, you run into a familiar face and suddenly rely on your future tormentor’s help as your only hope.

He Comes in Colors Reader request: Can I put in the request for Ben to “support the fine arts?”

Soldier Boy Masterlist - Recommending everything she writes, because I've read and loved it all.~

@venus-haze -

She's Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best Summary: Soldier Boy’s been pulled from the European Theater to sell war bonds to the American people, the goodwill tour dotted by big cities and small towns alike. In the meantime, he gets familiar with the variety of women in dazzling costumes that accompany his speeches with carefully choreographed dances. You’re, without a doubt, his favorite of them all.

Watch Honey Drip, Can't Keep Away Summary: America’s golden son can't keep his eyes off of you, almost like he wants to devour you whole...or something like that.

Power Play Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.

@luci-in-trenchcoats -

The Boys Masterlist (I'm about to read Thunder in Our Hearts in particular.)

@rizlowwritessortof -

Gladiator Reborn

Gladiator Reborn Part 2

Say It Summary: Ben has a jealous streak, and you have a stubborn streak - but only one of you can win.

@kaleldobrev

Soldier Boy Masterlist

@lamentationsofalonelypotato -

Take a Chance on Me Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think?

I'll keep adding to this list as I read more of this (charming) asshole.

Soldier Boy Masterlist || Main Masterlist

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dixons-sunshine · 1 year ago

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js read your shopping spree and dying for your haircut fics and omg

can u pretty please, with a bow on top, write another part to that series or like an au where they get separated at the fall of the world and a few season later (preferably that prison era of daryl he was so fawking sexy there like omg) they found each other again and i want some build up to their reunion yk like someone else finds r and brings them in and some ppl kinda chatting abt the new girl or wtv and dars not rlly gaf cuz he kinda getting tired of trying to find r (realistically i don’t think he’d give up easily but let’s js pretend yk) but then they see each other and they’re like omfg the love of my life’s here and safe and like i need that glenn and maggie type reunion but like tenfold bc r and dar alr loved and knew each other before the fall yk and like yeah😣

idky but i’m a sucker for “r and daryl had a relationship beforehand, got separated, and reunited” trope (?) fic, blurb shit and you’d literally be godsent if u wrote this oml

I Found You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: When the dead started to rise and the world went to hell, Daryl got seperated from you, the love of his life. After over a year of searching for you and finding no evidence of your survival, Daryl was beginning to give up and count his losses. One day, Carol stumbled upon a wounded woman while out on a run with Glenn, and the two of them decide to accept you into the prison. Little did they know, that would end up being one of the best decisions they could've ever made.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Prison, pre season 4, post season 3.

Warnings: Swearing, blood, death, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not descriptive)

Word count: 4.3k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I've decided to write the au since there's already a part three for the SSHD (Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams) universe in the works, but this request was way too good to not write. I hope you like it! And I absolutely agree with you. There's something about prison era Daryl that just hits different. He was on another level completely.

(Just thought I'd say that both third- and second person is used. I referred to the reader in third person when Glenn and Carol first met her, but it soon shifts to second person when she introduced herself. Just thought I'd let y'all know the shift is intentional.)

“Okay, so I can't guess what you did before all of this correctly, but I bet there is something that I will be right about.”

Daryl looked at Zach skeptically as they trudged through the abandoned store, looking for supplies to bring back to the prison. “Yeah? Wha's tha'?”

“You're brooding, quiet, you like to keep to yourself,” Zach started, leaning nonchalantly against one of the shelves while he watched the archer place multiple different packs and boxes into his bag. “The way you act most of the time would suggest you've never been in a relationship before, but there are clear signs that you were with someone before all of this.”

Daryl stiffened for a moment, his hand lingering above a pack, before regaining his composure and continuing his task. “Wha' signs?”

“Well, for one, you know exactly what kind of tampons and pads to get for the ladies at the prison. I would've just dumped everything in and have them sort through it, but you are only taking specific brands,” Zach pointed out, motioning to the box of tampons Daryl had just put back onto the shelf.

When Daryl didn't reply, Zach took that as his cue to continue. “And while we're on the topic of periods, you seem to know exactly what to get the girls for the pain and what to do to curve their bad tempers. What guy would know that if he didn't have a girlfriend before all of this? And to top it all off, and this is totally unrelated to everything I just said, I've seen that locket necklace you keep in your pocket. It's pretty worn out and faded, but you can definitely tell it's something from this generation, so it can't be something that was passed down from a relative, so that brings me to my conclusion. You, Daryl Dixon, had a girl before all of this.”

Daryl sighed, shutting his eyes tightly as he willed the onslaught of memories away. Memories that were too painful to think of, memories that did nothing but remind the archer of his failure. His failure at finding you, the love of his life, after the dead started walking. A failure he had to live with for as long as he remained alive.

Daryl opened his eyes and turned abruptly, leaving the young man behind him as he stalked towards the exit, his bag slung over his shoulder. Zach hurriedly caught up to him, struggling to keep at a steady pace beside him as Daryl strode quickly, wanting to put some distance between him and Zach.

“Woah, man! Slow down!” Zach complained, jogging to keep up with him. “Was it because I brought up the girl thing? I didn't realise it was a touchy subject.”

“It ain't none of yer damn business,” Daryl grumbled under his breath, stalking over to the truck him and Zach were using that day.

“Daryl! Come on, man. It's not that deep.”

Daryl gritted his teeth as he opened up the driver's side door of the truck, throwing his bag into the back before climbing inside. He started up the truck and revved the engine, a warning sign to Zach that he was about to leave, with or without him.

Zach hurriedly scurried into the passenger seat, barely having time to close the door before Daryl started speeding off. He gripped the edge of his seat, sending Daryl an exasperated look.

“Daryl, what the hell? Calm down!” he exclaimed, unnerved by the archer's sudden burst of fury. He'd seen Daryl angry before, but it was never directed towards him. It was downright scary.

“'M calm,” Daryl replied through gritted teeth, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.

“That's what you call calm?!” Zach exclaimed, motioning out towards the road. “You're driving like a maniac! Slow down!”

Daryl simply ignored the man, keeping his eyes trained on the road. Memories of you unwillingly flooded his mind. Memories of your smile, your laugh and your beautiful eyes. Memories of the calm mornings you'd spend with the archer in your shared sad excuse for an apartment where the hot water was a joke. Memories where you'd both stand under the cold water of the shower, Daryl embracing you from behind in an attempt to make the cold water bearable for you. Memories of your loving touch on his skin, your fingers lightly tracing over the scars on his back as you whispered reassuring things into his ear, assuring him that his father's abuse had nothing to do with him, that it wasn't his fault that any of that happened to him.

The more Daryl's mind wandered, the more he remembered some of the bad memories. All those arguments you had with him over some of his escapades with Merle, telling him that it would only get him into trouble, flooded his mind. One of those arguments ended up being the reason he got seperated from you in the first place.

Merle had wanted to go do some drug deal and had barged into your apartment, practically dragging Daryl from your bed. You had begged him not to go, arguing with him that it was a bad idea and that something would go wrong this time. He remembered being so angry at you for insisting during that argument that Merle wasn't good for him, that he needed to cut back on seeing him or set some boundaries with him. He had stormed out of the apartment without so much as a goodbye, and now he regretted it more than he's regretted anything before in his life.

Daryl blamed himself daily for not having listened to you that day. If he had, he never would've been seperated from you and you would've been safe by his side. He longed to have you by his side again, to tell you that he was sorry and that he loved you. However, even after all this time of searching, going out for extended periods of time to look for signs of you, it was to no avail. You were gone, and it was all his fault.

“Daryl? Are... you okay?”

Daryl snapped back to reality at the sound of Zach's concerned voice. He felt a droplet of water roll down his cheek and he hurriedly wiped it away, realising that he was crying. He hadn't even realised that tears had started to well up in his eyes, so immersed was he in his own thoughts.

“'M fine,” Daryl insisted, wiping his eyes hurriedly as he willed the tears away.

Zach furrowed his eyebrows, before realisation dawned on him. “You did have a girl before all of this. You lost her, didn't you?” he asked sympathetically.

Daryl hesitantly nodded, swallowing in an attempt to get rid of the lump in his throat. “I didn't lose her,” he began, bringing the truck to a halt in front of the prison gates as he waited for someone to open them.

“I don't know if she's even dead at all. She's just... Gone.”

“What are we looking for, exactly?” Glenn asked Carol as they scanned over the shelving of an abandoned pharmacy, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Carol sighed as she looked upon yet another empty shelf, its medical contents a thing of the past. “Anything medical. With all the new people we've been taking in, the supplies we have aren't going to be enough.”

“Okay,” Glenn drawled hesitantly. “But it doesn't look like there's anything worth scavenging here.”

“Let's just do a once over before we check the back. If there's nothing, we head on back. It's getting late,” Carol instructed. Glenn nodded, and the two of them dispersed to sweep through the small store once more.

“So,” Glenn started. “Is it just me, or has Daryl been more grumpy than usual?”

Carol hummed in agreement. “He has. He gets angry at the smallest of things lately.”

“Do you know why?”

“No,” Carol said, shaking her head. “I've asked him, but he won't say anything. Just tells me to mind my own business. It's really odd. He's more like he was back at the quarry. More closed off and snappy and I don't know why.”

“It's ever since he came back from that run with Zach a week ago,” Glenn replied, meeting up with the Carol again to go into the back room. “I've asked Zach if he knows why, but he refused to say anything. Says it's not his place to say.”

Carol frowned, opening the door that lead into the back room. “That's odd. So that means something—”

“Stay right there. Don't move another inch or I swear to god I'll shoot.”

Both Carol and Glenn froze in their tracks. They looked up and locked eyes with a woman, who's eyes were fiery as they darted between them.

“Names. Now. And weapons on the ground.”

“Okay, alright,” Carol responded, trying to diffuse the situation. She slowly lowered her gun and knife to the ground, urging Glenn to do the same. “I'm Carol, and this is Glenn. Now before we answer anymore questions, what's your name?”

The woman hesitated for a moment. “Y/n. What are you doing here?”

“We were looking for some supplies,” Carol spoke truthfully, eyeing the gun aimed at her carefully. “We're running low on medical things.”

After a couple of long, tense moments, with you scanning them from head to toe, you nodded to yourself after spotting something. Deciding to trust them for now, you slowly lowered the gun. However, you quietly hissed in pain, quickly clutching your side as you stumbled to regain your balance. After you steadied yourself, you limped over to your bag and grabbed a few things before handing them over to Carol and Glenn.

“Here. Hope these help. The place was ransacked when I got here. Wasn't a lot left to clear out.”

“Thank you, but we need more than this. This isn't going to last us long,” Carol responded, placing the items into her bag.

“No offence, lady, but I think I need the supplies more than you do at the moment. And I gave you more than half already. I can't spare more,” you said, clutching your side tightly.

“What happened?” Glenn asked, pointing to the your side, unable to stop his curiosity from seeping through.

“Flesh eaters,” you replied nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders. “I was fighting a bunch of them when one lunged at me from the side. It toppled me through a broken window, and a shard sliced me.”

“Don't you have a group? Couldn't they help you?” Glenn questioned.

“Nope. I've been on my own since this whole thing started. I guess I should probably find a group, though. Things like this wouldn't happen if I had backup.”

You gingerly lifted your shirt, and both Carol and Glenn grimaced at the painful sight. The wound was deep and oozing blood. It would definitely need stitches, as well as someone to remove the remaining fragments of glass that still painfully stuck out of the wound. It was terrible. You wouldn't be able to get it all out without a professional.

Suddenly, an idea struck Carol. “You gave us some of the supplies you scavenged without even knowing us. Why?”

“Well, you didn't try to kill me, even after I held you at gunpoint. And by the looks of it, you guys have a group and are set up somewhere. Figured I should do the honourable thing and offer up some medical things if there's kids involved.”

“How do you know there's kids?” Glenn asked, confused.

“I can see the toys in your bag,” you pointed out, motioning to the toy truck that stuck out of the top of his bag. “Figured that adults wouldn't be playing with toy trucks while the world was ending.”

“Still, why would you? You don't owe us anything,” Carol questioned, though her mind was already set on one thing.

“Some might call me naive, but I hope that by doing some good in this fucked up world, karma will decide to do something good for me. That probably makes me stupid as shit, huh?” you replied, laughing before wincing at the pain that shot through your side at the small action.

Carol smiled at you. “We have a group set up not too far from here, at the prison. You can join if you want, but you have to answer three questions first.”

You raised your eyebrows at her. “Three questions? That's it?”

“Yeah.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Alright, shoot.”

“How many walkers have you killed?” Carol began, watching you closely.

“A lot. Too many to keep track of at this point.”

“How many people have you killed?”

You hesitated for a moment, guilt creeping up on you. “Three.”

“Why?”

“Two of them were bit. They asked me to kill them. The other one... That bastard tried to rape me. I wouldn't let him.”

“I'm sorry,” Glenn said sympathetically.

“It's fine. I'm fine,” you waved him off, before turning your attention back to Carol. “How'd I do? Satisfactory enough?”

Carol nodded. “For me, yes. You'll still need to meet the leader and have him evaluate you, but I think you'll be alright. You'll fit in just fine.”

“Hopefully,” you laughed nervously, instantly paying the price for it with a sharp pain shooting up your side, making you visibly wince.

“Come on, let's get going. We have a doctor who can get that checked out for you,” Glenn prompted. He walked over to you and grabbed your bag, stopping your protest instantly. “It's fine, I've got it. One extra bag won't kill me.”

Together, all of you made your way out of the pharmacy and over to their car. You got settled in the back while Carol and Glenn got into the front, and before long you were setting off to the prison. Your eyes were beginning to droop, but Glenn seemed eager to get to know the new recruit better.

“What were you doing out there on your own anyway?”

“I was looking for my boyfriend. I was hoping that he might still be alive.”

“No luck?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, pursing your lips. “I'm beginning to think I might never find him, if he's even still alive.”

“Never say never,” Glenn encouraged you. “You'll find him someday, I know it.”

“I really hope so.”

“Have you seen that new chick Glenn and Carol brought back? She's a real looker.”

“I know, right? You think she's into blondes?”

“Even if she was, I doubt she'd go for your scrawny ass.”

“Easy, boys. She might not even be into guys. I could have a shot with her for all you know.”

Daryl groaned inwardly as he entered the cellblock. The new girl that Glenn and Carol brought in the day before was seemingly the hottest topic of discussion amongst everyone and he couldn't escape it, no matter where he tried to run to. Nobody, apart from Glenn, Carol, Rick and Hershel have officially met her, yet everybody had seemingly already formed an opinion about her. Although there were a lot of different opinions, everyone seemingly agreed on one thing; the new girl was hotter than hell.

Daryl was the only guy in the entire prison that hadn't seen her yet. He was out hunting when Carol and Glenn brought her back and he hasn't bothered to go out of his way to introduce himself to her ever since he got back. He'd meet her soon enough and he wasn't hoping to make friends with her. The more people he managed to keep at arm's length, the better.

“Yo, Daryl. What do you think about the new chick?” a guy called Mitchell asked him, snapping him from his thoughts.

Daryl shrugged. “Ain't met her yet,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Okay, but have you seen her?” another guy called Ronnie asked. “I'm telling you, man, hotter than the sun on a summer day. I'm hoping she'll let me hit at least once.”

“How 'bout ya leave the poor girl alone?” Daryl snapped, turning to face the group that was walking with him. “She ain't even been here two days and y'all are already ogling her like she's some prize to be won. Have some more respect.”

“Jeez,” Mitchell whistled. “What's got your panties up in a bunch?”

“Nothin',” Daryl muttered angrily, turning around to walk further into the cellblock. “Jus' wanna get this fuckin' job done and all y'all can do is yap 'bout some girl ya dun' even know properly. I dun' give two flyin' shits 'bout who or wha' ya talk 'bout, but do it after the job's done. Y'all ain't free loadin' here. Do yer job, earn yer keep.”

“Sorry,” a girl called Ariana muttered, sending him an apologetic look. “What do you need us to do?”

“Take those planks over there and take em to the guard tower. Rick wants to fortify it and wants it done by the end of the week.”

“What are you gonna do?” Ronnie asked, crossing his arms as he sized Daryl up.

Daryl glared at him and squared his shoulders, looking down on his shorter, scrawny frame. “Hershel needs help with somethin'. I believe ya can understand tha' if the doctor needs somethin' done, it's considered top priority?”

Ronnie shrunk under Daryl's intense glare, nodding quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Great.”

With that, Daryl turned on his heel and set off to find Hershel. He didn't have to search far, however, because Hershel halted him before he could go outside.

“Daryl, over here,” the old man called after him, halting him in his tracks.

Daryl turned and walked over to Hershel, nodding at him respectfully. “Wha' ya need, Doc?”

“I'm sure you've heard of the girl Carol and Glenn brought back yesterday by now?” Hershel questioned, chuckling at the slight groan Daryl emitted.

“Who hasn't? Apparently she's really good lookin'. Her looks has been all people has to say 'bout her.”

Hershel nodded. “Unfortunately, that is true. Only Rick, Glenn, Carol and myself has had the pleasure of meeting her personally up until this point. She's a lovely woman. Had no problem that there wasn't anything to ease the pain when I had to stitch her side and she's more than willing to get up and start working to earn her keep. She won't be able to for at least another day or so since her side needs to heal up a bit first, but Carol and Glenn did good with bringing her back. She'll fit right in.”

“Good,” Daryl nodded. “She a good fighter?”

“From what I understand, she's been out on her own since the beginning. She's not dead yet, so I'd say she's alright,” Hershel replied, adjusting on his crutches.

“Alrigh', now enough 'bout her. Wha' did ya need me to do?”

Hershel gave him an encouraging pat on the back, confusing the archer. “You're going to be one of the very few people who gets to say they met the new girl for the next couple of days. I was hoping you could help her fix her bunk? One of the legs on the bunk broke and she's dead set on repairing it. She won't let me help because she keeps insisting I've done enough for her, so I told her I would send someone else to help. She'll be expecting you.”

Daryl pursed his lips but nodded, parting ways with the older man. He walked over to the cell that Hershel had pointed towards and stopped at the doorway, hesitating to make his presence known.

You had your back turned towards the door, hunched over as you inspected the leg of the bunk. You weren't aware of the archer that stood a few feet behind you, engrossed entirely in your own thoughts. That was, until he spoke up behind you.

“Hey. Hershel said ya needed help?”

You froze at the voice, willing the supposed hallucination away. You slowly rose to your feet and turned, locking eyes with the one person you've been searching for since the world went to hell—your boyfriend, Daryl Dixon.

The moment Daryl locked eyes with you, a whirlwind of emotions flooded his being. Relief, love, happiness, wonder, sadness, confusion and so much more that he couldn't decipher. Although his first instinct was to wrap you in his arms and never let go of you again, he hesitated, refusing to believe you were real. He took a step back, his eyes wide as he looked at you.

You stared back at him with equal amounts of disbelief. You took a hesitant step forward. “Daryl?” you whispered. The man in front of you looked slightly different; a little bit older and his hair was longer, but there was no mistaking it. The man in front of you was Daryl.

Daryl remained silent, his eyes locked on you as you continued to take agonizingly slow steps towards him. He watched as you stopped in front of him and hesitantly raised your hand, bringing it to rest on his cheek. Daryl instantly melted into your familiar soft touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed. Without another thought, he gently grabbed you and pulled you into his arms, tightly clinging to you as he pressed multiple kisses to the top of your head.

“Yer real,” he whispered, a laugh of amazement falling from his lips. “Yer real. Yer alive. Yer actually still alive.”

You laughed quietly against his chest as you held onto him tightly, never wanting to let go ever again. Your laughter soon turned into sobs, tears of relief and happiness falling from your eyes.

“I thought I'd never see you again,” you whispered through your tears, burying your face into his chest. “I thought you were dead, Dar.”

“'M here,” he whispered into your ear, a few tears of his own falling from his eyes. “'M alive. Yer alive. 'M never lettin' ya go ever again. 'M sorry I ever left tha' day in the first place.”

“It's okay. I'm sorry, too. I never should've asked you to cut Merle out of your life. He's your brother. It was unreasonable of me.”

“Nah, it wasn't,” he denied, placing another gentle kiss on the top of your head. “Ya were jus' lookin' out fer me. I never shoulda gotten mad at ya in the first place.”

“Let bygones be bygones?” you whispered against his chest.

Daryl chuckled before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

The two of you held onto each other for a couple of moments longer until you pulled back. Daryl was about to voice his protest until you pressed your lips against his in an urgent kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms settled on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he kissed you back. There was no lustful hunger behind the kiss—there was only love and longing, two broken parts finally reuniting and mending together as one.

Daryl pulled back and placed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “I missed ya so much,” he whispered, willing the lump in his throat to go away.

“I missed you too. More than you even know,” you replied, cupping Daryl's cheek with one of your hands. “But I found you. I finally found you.”

Daryl leaned into your touch before turning his head to kiss the palm of your hand. However, he soon pulled away from you and strode over to your bag, slinging it over your shoulder.

“C'mon,” he said, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to walk beside him.

“Where are we going?” you questioned, falling into step beside the man you loved.

“There ain't no need fer ya to sleep in there. Yer gonna sleep with me in my cell,” Daryl said simply, pulling you along to his cell.

You giggled but said nothing, silently following him into his cell. When he placed your bags down on the floor, Daryl placed a soft kiss on your lips before stalking out of the cell.

“Where are you going?” you called after him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“'M gonna find tha' prick who objectified ya and teach him a lesson. Yer hot as fuck, yes, that much I can accept people sayin', but Ronnie implied he wanted to sleep with ya outrigh'. He's really gonna regret sayin' tha' in a few moments. Dun' even try to talk me outta it.”

“Hey, Dar?” you called after him, halting him in his tracks. “I love you.”

Daryl smiled at you. “I definitely love ya more.”

#𝑘𝑟𝑦𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠 ࣪𖤐.ᐟ #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x reader #the walking dead #twd daryl #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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96mistynat · 2 months ago

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thedevilsgarden's mistynat fics

i know someone else has shared the wayback machine's link to thedevilsgarden's profile where a handful of mistynat fics were visible and only some could open, but i've done some hunting and have links to what i think are all the viewable/saved mistynat fics of theirs, so i thought i'd share direct links to all of them. most are wayback machine links but the last three don't work and could only be found in pdf format, so i uploaded those to a hosting site so they're readable online and there's no downloading necessary.

stranded series: canon divergent teen mistynat in the wilderness, where they get together early in season 1. there are 4 parts, but sadly, part 3 is impossible to access, as far as i've been able to try. it seems to be set during the last two episodes of s1 based on the summary and references to the events of it in part 4, but you can read part 4 without having read it since that's what i did.

part one: untethered

part two: preservation

part four: chosen

other fics:

nothing heals the same: nat breaks misty's nose by accidentally kicking a soccer ball into her face at practice and her good old catholic guilt has her unable to leave her side as she goes with her to the hospital and then home for the night.

sidelined: nat gets jealous when the yellowjackets biggest fan misty starts getting distracted during practice by new kid walter.

no strings attached: nat meets misty in college and they start up a friends with benefits arrangement, until nat finds herself catching feelings when walter enters the picture.

godless: canon divergent post s2 finale fic, where nat doesn't die, but she does temporarily lose her memory. she stays with misty as she struggles to adjust to everything, and misty struggles to adjust to this version of nat that isn't like hers.

at the end of my road: age gap fic, with canon adult misty and early 20s rockstar nat. it's the third part of a series, and i haven't had any luck finding links to try for the first two parts unfortunately, but in my opinion, it can be read on it's own well enough, even if you'll find yourself wishing you could read the first two parts.

if by any chance you have any other working links or saved fics of theirs, feel free to either reblog and add them to the post or you can message me and i can add them.

#mistynat #misty quigley #natalie scatorccio #thedevilsgarden #yellowjackets #fanfic #fic rec #these will all be included in my longer fic rec list but that's gonna take ages to post at the rate i'm going #so i thought i'd make a post on its own #i've searched here and on twitter as best as i can to find links to check in the wbm but there sadly wasn't many others #only had luck with chosen and an actual link to sidelined vs the pdf i already had

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daisyvisions · 10 months ago

Text

Unspoken Words (Pt. 3)

➺ Pairing: best friend!Sangyeon x afab!reader x enemy!Hyunjae

➺ Summary: If someone were to tell you that you'd be in a fake relationship with the person you despise the most just to make your best friend jealous, you would've laughed in their face. But here you are... caught up in this exact situation.

➺ Word Count: 7.4K

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI) very angsty but with a happy ending, jealousy, confessions, some arguments, mentions of being drunk, heated makeouts, groping, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f! receiving), slight masturbation, marking, neck biting, slight dry humping, pet names (sweetheart) lots and lots of sexual tension y'all (pls let me know if I missed anything!)

➺ A/N: Okay hear me out... it wasn't supposed to take this long for me to write this I swear 😭 but life got in the way huhu but anyways WOW 7.4K words? this is the longest fic I've ever written! This is the last part of this series and while I'm sad it has to come to an end, I'm just very proud of this series as a whole! Proofread once, I hope you enjoy this last part!

➺ Part 1 | Part 2

➺ Network and tags: @deoboyznet @winterchimez @snowflakewhispers @aimeecarreros and the anon that reminded me to write for it bless you I hope you see this!

As your body sways to the rhythm of the music blasting through the speakers, you can't help but become immersed in the kaleidoscope of colors moving around you. You finally feel relaxed enough after a couple of drinks and slowly let everything around you move through you like an ocean wave.

It's been a while since you've been this loose, especially with all the college requirements piling on you like bricks. You needed this, especially since it was your birthday. You deserved to have a break and not think of any responsibilities for a moment and have fun with the person you adore the most… your best friend. Speaking of best friend, where the hell is he right now?

Your mind pulls you away from your reverie as your eyes frantically search for the man who was with you all night. The man who had your whole birthday planned out and dragged you to this place. And just like a moth to a flame, you spot him easily across the room sitting by the bar as he watches you with his warm eyes, the growing smile on his face as soon as his eyes finally meet yours.

Without hesitation, you make your way towards him, weaving through the sea of bodies. You stop right in front of where he sits, your body wedged between his legs as you place your hands on his shoulders for stability. His eyes grow wide as you slowly lean closer to him, wondering what you might do next.

"C'mon Sangyeon, dance with me!" Your mouth is dangerously close to his ear as you try your best to speak above the reverberating music around you.

"I think I'll pass. I'm good right here," he responds as his hand holds your waist to stop you from swaying.

"You can't say no, it's my birthday, remember?" you remind him, your tone playful yet insistent.

Sangyeon hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering between you and the crowded dance floor. You can see the internal struggle playing out on his face. He lets out a heavy sigh, remembering that he was the one who set that rule for the evening to begin with. It was the condition he had suggested in order for you to say yes to going out tonight.

"Okay… let's dance," he sighs, quickly chugging down the rest of his drink before allowing you to lead him onto the dance floor.

As soon as you step foot on the dance floor, Sangyeon grabs your wrist and makes you twirl for him. You laugh at the silly gesture but continue to dance with him and let the music move through both of you.

He laughs at how loose-limbed your movements have become but still tries to match your energy nonetheless despite not being much of a dancer. Sangyeon can't help but smile as butterflies soar throughout his body.

He can't believe how lucky he is to have you in his life, wishing for moments like this to never end.

Later on in the night as you both walk back to your apartment, Sangyeon wraps his arm around you, trying to keep your balance as you yap about anything and everything. For some, this would be considered bothersome, having to be the caretaker of their tipsy friend. But to Sangyeon, it doesn't matter as long as it was you.

Aside from getting you home safe, all he can focus on is the beautiful sound of your voice and the way you hold onto him closely. The smell of your perfume was far more intoxicating than the drinks you downed tonight.

When you both finally make it to your front door, you suddenly spin around to hug Sangyeon tightly. "This was the best birthday ever, thank you so much Sangyeon," you mumble against his shoulder.

"Anything for my girl," he smiles, returning the same hug you're giving him.

His cheek presses against your head, taking all the strength he could muster to not kiss your temple. You both hug each other for a little while longer, not wanting this moment to end. As soon as you reluctantly pull away from one another, Sangyeon chuckles at the tousled appearance of your hair.

"Here, let me just—" Sangyeon's hand reaches for the loose strand of hair and gently tucks it behind your ear. You impulsively press your cheek onto his palm, letting the heat of his skin cradle you as you sigh dreamily.

You look up at him with these sultry eyes, and Sangyeon can't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. This kind of thing has never happened between the two of you. He tries his best to ignore the sudden warmth blooming at the back of his neck but fails as soon as his eyes gravitate towards your lips almost touching his palm.

"Sangyeon?"

Beep, beep, beep! The sound of your alarm rings as you wake up from your dream. You find yourself smiling as you open your eyes, but reality hits you like a lightning strike as you soon realize who was the male lead of your dream.

You aren't upset because the dream ended so abruptly, but rather the scenario reminds you of a time when you and Sangyeon were happy. When you two were still friends and not in the shit show you're currently in where he makes you feel like a total stranger.

Before you start wallowing in your own sadness, you rub your eyes and immediately get up from your bed, stretch, and check your phone. Today, you're assigned to check the inventory and the progress of everything the team needs for the play next week. While that sounds easy to do, it also means you have to quality check and sort out all the props, costumes, and other items before the tech rehearsal.

Today is definitely going to be a long one, but at least it will give you enough distraction from overanalyzing that dream, right?

You slowly exhale a sigh of frustration as you continue untangling the mess of rope on your lap. Not only have you been trying to straighten them out for the past hour or so, but you also start to feel a numbing pain in your tailbone as you sit cross-legged on the stage. It was a mistake positioning yourself here as you figure out this task, but at least you were a few more tasks away from calling it a day.

"Didn't expect to see you here—" A deep voice startles you. You were so focused on unraveling the rope from its tangled knots that you didn't pay attention to the creaking sound of the auditorium's entrance.

You clutch your chest, trying to calm your heartbeat while your eyes search for the source of the voice. You'd think finding who the voice belonged to would calm your nerves, but you suddenly feel your heart pounding harder than it did a few seconds ago when your eyes finally lock in on the other person's face. Oh god… Sangyeon.

"Uh—" You try to swallow down the non-existent lump stuck in your throat. "The rest of the team couldn't make it today so I volunteered to help…"

"I know, I signed up with you weeks ago to check on inventory, remember?" He awkwardly laughs. And in that moment, it only occurred to you that you did in fact sign up with Sangyeon for this weeks ago, the whole rift between you two making you forget that little detail.

"R-right…" You turn away to focus on the task at hand before he spots the embarrassed look on your face, quietly praying that he will decide to just leave you to your work.

But apparently, the universe had other plans for you today.

Sangyeon starts walking down the center aisle of the auditorium. The sound of his footsteps is so slow and gentle it's more nerve-wracking than any sound you've ever heard. You really do try your best to ignore him, but that alone starts to become difficult as the faint scent of his warm cologne starts to invade your senses.

"Need a hand?" Sangyeon offers, taking a step closer to the edge of the stage.

"No, I've got it," you quickly reply as your eyebrows furrow in frustration at a particularly difficult knot.

Sangyeon chuckles at your stubbornness, finding it cute rather than annoying. Suddenly, he places his hands on the edge of the stage and pulls himself up, his figure now closer to you than ever before as he sits right across from you.

"Here—" He grabs the tumbleweed of rope from your hands and starts to untangle the mess effortlessly.

"You were always a stubborn one, huh?" he teases, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.

"I only learn from the best," you reply, sharing a slightly awkward laugh together.

"Come on," Sangyeon says, his voice softer now. "I'll help you so you don't stay up too late."

At first, you were worried about how awkward it would be to have Sangyeon around you for a couple more hours considering everything that has happened between you two. But much to your surprise, it was like nothing happened at all, as if you two were just picking up where your friendship had left off.

The first couple of minutes or so were obviously weird, but as soon as Sangyeon made a joke about an incident that happened backstage weeks ago with two of the crew members, you couldn't help but burst out laughing. From that point on, you two were talking nonstop as you tried to untangle the rope together. And for the first time in weeks, you both felt that missing part of you become whole again.

By the time you both finished straightening out the rope, he asked you what other tasks you had left so he could work on some while you did the other half. You both got up to do your tasks and met back at the same spot where you sat cross-legged from one another to finish retouching the paint on some props.

As the night went on, Sangyeon couldn't help but steal glances at you as you focused on painting the item in your hand. A warm, fuzzy feeling engulfed his entire body, remembering how it felt to be around you like this again.

He suddenly snapped back into reality as you let out a loud sigh as you brush the loose hair from your cheek with the back of your hand. A light streak of paint smudges your skin, making Sangyeon chuckle at the sight of it.

"What's so funny?" You looked at him quizzically. Sangyeon couldn't help but smile at your confused face. Without hesitation, he put down the brush in his hand and leaned closer to you.

"You've got a little something—" He held your head steady with his palm as his thumb tried to remove the smudge of paint on your cheek.

You suddenly became aware of how close you were to Sangyeon. You could see every detail of his face. Your heart began to race as you realized he was staring at you intently, his breath catching in his throat.

"T-there. Just a bit of paint, that's all—" Sangyeon stammered, his eyes never leaving your face. Before he could lower his hand, you impulsively grabbed his wrist a little more firmly than you had hoped, instantly missing the warmth of his palm against your cheek.

You melt at the touch of his caress, eyes closing as his warm hand envelops your skin. You turn your head slightly for your lips to lightly touch his inner wrist. Your heart starts pounding out of your chest; it's as if this moment seems too familiar to you.

"Sangyeon?" You say his name under your breath, wondering if he could hear how loud your heart is beating in this moment. Wondering if his heart is also beating as loud as yours.

Sangyeon's lips part, his mind running a mile a minute as he tries to find the right words to say. How can he, especially when you look at him with deep longing? After everything that has happened between you two?

He sees your eyes falter with his lack of response as you try to slowly pull away from him. Regret starts to consume him, knowing that this would be the last time he'd ever get close to you again.

No, he can't lose you, not like this. It's either he does it now or regrets this for the rest of his life.

"Fuck it—" Sangyeon grips the back of your neck and pulls you towards him, your lips suddenly pressed against his.

You impulsively place your hand on his chest and push him away, scanning his face for his reaction. But all you can see is how dilated his pupils are, looking at you with an intense gaze you have never seen before. Suddenly, the air around becomes stuffy and surges with desire all at once.

Without a word, you grab the fabric of his shirt and pull him towards you desperately as you smash your lips against his once more. Sangyeon responds with the same level of desperation as he cups your face between his warm hands and presses a deeper kiss onto you. He groans at the sound of your faint whimper as he hastily pushes the props and other items that stand between you two to the side, not giving a damn if they get all messed up.

His body hovers over yours as he leans closer to you, gently guiding your back onto the wooden floor of the stage. Your hands try to cling onto his broad shoulders, but as soon as you lay completely flat beneath Sangyeon, you find yourself grabbing onto the back of his hair and pulling him closer than ever before.

He inserts his knee between your legs, causing them to split apart while he tries his best not to place his entire weight onto you. Your core accidentally brushes against his thigh as you both adjust yourselves, gasping into his mouth at the delicious friction below. Sangyeon wastes no time slipping his tongue between your lips, moaning at how your tongues move together so perfectly. He needed to taste more of you or else he would go insane.

As Sangyeon's lips pull away from yours, they start to make a trail from your jaw down to the column of your neck. Each kiss feels as if he's leaving permanent marks on you despite not actually sucking on your skin. Your faint whimpers and sighs of satisfaction encourage him to keep going. He was so lost in the moment that he had forgotten where you were. But that didn't matter to him at all.

All he could think about was having you in his arms again.

Just as things were starting to become even more heated between you two, a loud ringing echoes in the air. The source was coming from your phone, which was just a few inches away from Sangyeon. At first, you tried to ignore it, too caught up in the sensation of Sangyeon's lips on your neck, his hands inching dangerously close to areas that made your core throb in excitement. But when the phone kept on ringing, you couldn't avoid the curiosity any longer.

You reach for your phone, trying to calm yourself before answering so that whoever was calling you wouldn't suspect anything odd on your end (but that alone was difficult as Sangyeon deepened the kisses on your neck).

"Hello?" Your phone fumbles against your ear as you try to hold it steady. "Oh, Hyunjae, I was just—"

As soon as you said his name, Sangyeon froze. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him, suddenly bringing him back to reality. He chuckles under his breath, mentally slapping himself for getting so carried away with you like this that he forgot the person thats between you and him.

Sangyeon lets go of your waist and abruptly gets up to straighten his clothes and hair. Without warning, he hops off the stage and walks towards the exit of the auditorium. You try to process what the fuck is happening all the while maintaining your current conversation with Hyunjae over the phone.

"I'll call you back, Hyunjae. Give me a sec—" You get up and try to follow Sangyeon quickly.

By the time you burst through the theater's doors, you see Sangyeon walking to the nearest fountain to take a sip and splash water on his face. You walk towards him carefully as he lets out a sigh of frustration and runs his fingers through his hair.

"Sangyeon?" you call out softly, reaching out to touch his shoulder. But he flinches away from your touch, causing a massive ache in your chest.

"This... this was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here," he replies, his voice cold and distant.

"What? Sangyeon, can you please just—"

"It's nothing," he interrupts you.

"It's not nothing. Tell me."

"Seriously, it's nothing. Leave it alone."

"Sangyeon, cut the bullshit," you snap, your patience wearing thin.

"What?" he asks, his tone defensive.

"You've been acting weird towards me ever since the day after my birthday, and I want to know why," you say, your voice rising with frustration. "Why have you been avoiding me? Making me feel like shit?"

Something in Sangyeon seems to snap at your words. "You want to know what it is?" he practically shouts. "Hyunjae. He's my fucking problem. Doesn't help that I see you two everywhere I go and practically hear you two at each other like animals!"

"I didn't even know you were coming over that day!" you retort. "This all wouldn't have happened if you had just not cut me off like that. It fucking hurt, Sangyeon. Then now you can't just suddenly walk into my life again like nothing happened, kiss me, and expect everything to be okay!"

"You wouldn't understand," Sangyeon says, his voice suddenly tired.

"Understand what exactly?" you press.

"I—" Sangyeon struggles to get the words out of his throat.

"That night, your birthday party," he says slowly, searching your face. "You don't remember anything at all?"

"Stop with the cryptic shit and just spit it out!" you say, your patience completely gone.

"Fine!" Sangyeon explodes. "You want to know why I've been avoiding you this whole time?"

You nod, bracing yourself for whatever he's about to say.

"You kissed me."

His words hit you like a train. "W-what?"

"And you wanna know what hurts the most? The way you looked at me the next day when I almost tried to kiss you again. You looked at me with this terrified expression on your face, as if you regretted what had happened." His voice lowers as he explains. You don't notice the tiny dots of tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

"W-why didn't you just tell me?" you murmur, the pieces falling into place as you realize your dream from last night was actually a forgotten memory.

"I panicked," Sangyeon admitted. "What if you didn't mean it at all and I just made a fool of myself? I didn't want to ruin our friendship. And I know how dumb it was of me to cut you off, but it hurt knowing that you didn't feel the same way and I would have to live with that memory every time I looked at you."

A numbing silence fills the air for a moment.

"I—I couldn't face you after knowing what your lips felt like, what it felt like to hold you. I'm a coward, I know that now. I should've apologized during the dance, but it was too late."

You stood there, frozen, as Sangyeon poured his heart out. Then he suddenly asks you a question that made your heart stop.

"If I hadn't kissed you just a while ago, would you still have talked to me? Would you have chosen me over Hyunjae?" Before you could formulate a response, your phone rang again. It was Hyunjae. Sangyeon's face fell, and he took a step back.

"Go," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll finish up the work inside."

You stand frozen as Sangyeon walks away. Everything suddenly feels too intense that you don’t even realize the tears that start to run down your cheeks. You need to get out of here or else you’ll drive yourself insane.

You grab your phone, fingers hovering over Hyunjae's number. At first you hesitate, torn between telling him the truth about your feelings for Sangyeon or seeking physical comfort to forget about everything. Your irrational brain picks the latter option instead.

“My place tonight? 😉”

Everything for you was completely a blur. One minute you're standing still outside the auditorium, the next you're pouncing on Hyunjae as soon as he rings your doorbell. You were so in over your head you had no grasp of time or any coherent thought.

"Looks like someone's missed me a bit too much, hm?" Hyunjae mumbles as he kisses you messily, pressing you against your front door.

"Just shut up and fuck me already, will you?" You breathe out, grabbing his hair in your hands.

"Yes, ma'am," he smirks before you both start hastily walking into the living room, leaving a trail of discarded clothes in your path.

To Hyunjae, this wouldn't be the first time he's seen you so worked up like this over him. But something about you right now seemed a bit off. Yes, seeing you incredibly horny like this was exciting, but your movements did not match the energy in your eyes. It was almost like you were on autopilot to him.

There's definitely something bothering you, he thinks. Or maybe you've been working all day and just need a way to relax. He'll probably check in on you later but for now, all he can think of is hearing those beautiful moans you make for him.

Too eager to get a taste of you, Hyunjae drags you over to your couch as he pulls you in to straddle his lap. He wastes no time littering your neck with kisses, groping your ass while you grind on his growing bulge.

"C'mere." He grabs your face in his hands, admiring little details of your face while he smiles to himself. "Tired from today?"

"Mhm." You hastily reply, wanting to not think of anything else except Hyunjae's touch. So you lean in to kiss his neck while moving your hips on his lap, your hands struggling to unbuckle his belt.

The way you answered just now threw Hyunjae off. There was definitely something wrong with you. How does he know? It was all in your eyes. Usually, you looked at Hyunjae directly when he called your attention. But now? It was like you were trying to completely avoid any sort of eye contact with him, and that was making him feel uneasy.

"Hey, uh—are you alright?" He calmly asks while gently holding your hips.

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" You mumble against his throat. Hyunjae thought he might be overthinking, but the more you struggled to unbuckle his belt (which was not a difficult task for you in the past), he couldn't continue on with you like this.

He calls out your name, hoping you'd stop to look at him, but you don't pay him mind. He says your name two more times and you still ignore him. Instead, he grabs your wrists and holds them up to finally get your attention.

"Talk to me, please—" He searches your face, trying to get a better look at you.

"There's nothing to talk about, Hyunjae." You huff out, irritated that he suddenly halted your movements.

"You think I'm dumb? There is clearly something wrong and you don't wanna say it," he says sternly, trying not to get too irritated with how you're acting towards him.

"I'm telling you there's nothing wrong."

"I don't believe that at all."

"Ugh, Hyunjae, can you just stop? It's none of your business!"

"It is my business if it's making you this upset—"

"Why do I have to tell you anyway?! It's not like you're my real boyfriend—" Your eyes widen as you suddenly regret saying those last words. And to add fuel to the fire, the way Hyunjae looks at you makes you want to vomit. You've never seen his face drop in an instant. The way the light in his eyes burned out so quick, too.

"Hyunjae, I— I didn't mean to, I'm so—"

"You're right," Hyunjae interrupts you.

"What?" You look at him confused.

"You're right. I'm not your boyfriend. But I am your friend. And I deserve to know what's been bothering you because I care about you so much I hate seeing you like this."

His stern but concerned voice hits you so fast you end up bursting into tears on the spot. Sobbing hysterically into his chest as you cry out all the pent-up emotions you locked away from tonight.

Hyunjae instantly wraps his arms around you and envelops you in a warm embrace. He gently strokes your hair while steadying his own breath, waiting for you to calm down until you feel better. You both sit in silence for a few minutes until Hyunjae's voice breaks the ice.

"It's about Sangyeon, isn't it?" He says calmly. Your head springs up in response.

"How did you—"

"The last time I saw you cry like this was when you were outside the gym during the dance." Hyunjae cups your face and wipes the remaining tears from your eyes with his thumbs.

"And well… if you were crying about me, we know it's for an entirely different reason." He smirks, trying to lighten the mood. You let out a faint laugh as he continues to stroke your cheek with his thumb.

"You should be with him—" Hyunjae says as he looks into your eyes. Before you can even ask, he continues. "That's who you want to be with, right? That's who you should be with right now, not me."

"Hyunjae, I—" You shake your head in disbelief. "What about you?"

"Me?" He asks with a surprised tone. "This isn't about me! It's about you. I'm not the one you need, we both know that. We both knew that at the very beginning. It was always Sangyeon." Hyunjae's voice starts getting weaker the more he speaks out the truth.

"I've always seen the way he looked at you and how you looked at him. It's clear as day that you both need each other more than you both realize it."

"But what about our agreement?" You ask him softly.

"Remember the first rule? If one of us wants to stop this thing at any given moment, the contract will end." He pauses his thought as he looks at you a little longer, taking you to memory before letting out a big sigh.

"And besides, our agreement broke a long time ago."

"What do you mean?" Your eyebrows knit in confusion.

"Well—" Hyunjae's cheeks start to warm up. "I fell in love with you the night of our first time." He faintly smiles. Rule number two, if any of us catch some sort of feelings for one another, the contract is immediately terminated.

"That night, you looked at me like I was the most important person in the world. That I wasn't the guy everyone in school knew as some kind of dick. You looked at me as Hyunjae, the real Hyunjae." He brushes a hair behind your ear. "How dumb of me to fall for those pretty eyes of yours." He sighs once more, trying his best to not let you see his lips quivering.

"I'm so sorry—" You start to tear up, knowing that this would probably be the last moments you have with Hyunjae.

"Hey, don't go all soft on me just because I said that, alright?" Hyunjae tries to bring energy back into his voice.

"I knew what I was getting into. You deserve to be happy, and if I'm not the reason for your happiness and you're stuck with me, that would break my heart even more."

He grabs your face so you could look him in the eye properly. "Got it?" You nod in response.

"Now c'mon. Be a good hostess and walk me out of your apartment." Hyunjae smiles before grabbing your wrists and pulling you up from his lap.

He helps you grab your clothes on the floor and even dresses you up and does the same for himself after. By the time he sets one foot out your front door, he suddenly turns around to face you.

"Can I just have one more request from you before this is all over?" he asks.

"Oh? What would that be?" You look up at him.

"Just one kiss goodbye." He smirks playfully. You chuckle before nodding your head to give him the go signal.

You close your eyes waiting for the warmth of his lips on yours for the last time, but instead feel it on your forehead.

"Don't be a stranger, alright?" he places his hand on your shoulder and gently rubs it for the last time before completely heading out the door.

For the last couple of hours, Sangyeon did nothing but lie on his bed and stare at the ceiling. He could still feel his heart pounding in his ears from your heated exchange at the auditorium earlier this evening. What made things worse was the fact he could still feel your lips on his, and your little sighs of pleasure were replaying in his head.

Where did it all go wrong? Was it when he offered to help you? Or when you leaned into his palm just like you did when you first kissed him? He couldn't stop mentally beating himself up for going off like that on you when you didn't even remember that night to begin with.

And now, not only did he pour his heart out, but there's also a guaranteed chance you may never speak to him again. He regrets this night more than keeping the truth from you.

2 A.M. was what was read on the clock of his bedside table when he turned his head. He hardly even noticed the time go by as too many thoughts and emotions were stirring in his head. His head started to ache from staying up too late.

It was difficult to forget everything that had happened between you two, but sleep seemed like the best option for him at the moment to distance himself from the issue. Sangyeon tried to close his eyes and count sheep; he could slowly start to feel himself drift into sleep until he heard loud knocks on his front door.

Pissed off, he groans and trudges to see who had interrupted his moment to fall sleep. Sangyeon swings the door open quickly, hoping to show the person on the other side his irritable mood.

"You better have a good explanation as to why you're here—" Sangyeon's eyes widen at the unexpected visitor.

"Hyunjae? What— what are you doing here?" he asks.

"Do you love her?" Hyunjae looks him in the eye.

"What?" Sangyeon's eyebrows furrow at the vague question.

"I said," Hyunjae sighs out of frustration, "Do you love her? Because she fucking loves you, man. And if you don't go over there right now—" Hyunjae takes a step forward, his figure almost towering over Sangyeon's.

"You will lose the greatest person that has ever come into your life," he asserted firmly. Out of nowhere, Hyunjae pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and shoves it into Sangyeon's hand.

"No time to explain, just go!" Hyunjae increases his voice slightly.

Sangyeon stays still for a moment, trying to process what the hell is happening right now, then moves hastily to grab his phone, keys, and put on his shoes. As soon as Sangyeon locks his front door, he turns around to face Hyunjae.

"T-thanks, man. I owe you one," he humbly says. Hyunjae faintly smiles, nodding in return. A silent truce being made between the two.

Sangyeon drives to your place like a maniac, not caring if he has run any stop lights or whatever. He doesn't care at all. All he can think about is getting there in time to see you before it's too late to win you back. By the time he reaches your front door, he takes a deep breath before ringing your doorbell.

You open the door slowly, cautious about who could be visiting you at this time. The moment you peek and get a glimpse of Sangyeon's face, your face knits in confusion.

"S-Sangyeon? What are you doing here?" You look up at him. Sangyeon can see how red and puffy your eyes are; it almost makes him mentally beat himself up once more, but he will deal with that later.

"I came to see you," he matches your whisper. "Can I come in?" You nod and open the door wider as he takes off his shoes, lets himself in, and places the bouquet of flowers down on a table. You're slightly stunned as soon as you close the door and turn around to see Sangyeon standing close to you.

"W-what are you doing?" Your voice quivers as your eyes search his.

"What I should've done a long time ago—" he gently grabs your face in his palms, observing your reaction to his touch before leaning in to give you a light kiss on the lips. You try your best to kiss him back with the same firmness despite feeling incredibly weak from crying your eyes out the whole night.

When Sangyeon pulls away from the kiss, he then gently kisses your forehead and slowly litters your face with his kisses. You instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer while your eyes flutter shut and melt into his touch. Tears of joy start streaming down your face as your heartbeat slowly paces itself to a calm rhythm.

"You really hurt me, you know?" you croak.

"And I'll never do that again." Sangyeon looks deeply into your eyes. "I don't care if I have to spend the rest of my life making it up to you." He kisses your forehead once more before pulling you in for a hug, his arms wrapping around your hips while yours move to wrap around his neck.

You stay like this for a while, basking in each other's warm embrace. As Sangyeon opens his eyes for a moment, he catches his reflection staring back at him through a mirror nearby. When his eyes drift to the back of your figure, his heartbeat starts to rise intensely.

It did not occur to him that when you opened the door, you were wearing nothing but a short and very thin nightgown. Naturally, the silk of the nightgown bunches up as his arms hold your waist, giving him a tasteful glimpse of not only your lace underwear but also the fact that the undergarment you’re wearing shows your ass beautifully.

Sangyeon suddenly starts a coughing fit, trying to beat his chest to clear his throat while you're taken aback.

"Are you okay? What happened?" You hold his shoulder while he attempts to regain his composure.

"I—uh—" He scratches the back of his head, trying his best to avoid looking in your direction. But that fails when you catch him scanning your figure and his cheeks suddenly glowing a shade of pink.

"I—I can turn around while you grab a robe." His eyes look around your apartment. You giggle at his sudden embarrassment, finding it rather endearing more than anything. You take a step closer to him, your bodies practically millimeters apart.

"It's alright Sangyeon, you can look." You try to hide the smirk forming on your lips.

"I'm trying to be a gentleman here, okay?" He replies, still trying to avoid your gaze. But he is instantly brought back to face you as you pull his chin with your thumb and index finger to get him to look directly into your eyes.

"But… what if I don't want you to be a gentleman tonight?" you whisper.

"Oh, thank fucking God—" Sangyeon pulls you into a heated kiss. Your arms wrap around his neck once more as his hands travel down to the doughy flesh of your ass, groping and kneading it.

Your hands are all over each other as you both struggle to make your way into your bedroom, giggling in between kisses as he nearly trips over your carpet. Sangyeon eagerly plops you down on the edge of your bed, kneeling down to match your eye level as you pull him by his shirt to swipe the tip of your tongue across his bottom lip. He moans into your mouth as he opens up for you, intertwining his tongue with yours as his hands rest on your lap.

Sangyeon slowly spreads your legs apart and inserts himself in between, his hands gripping your inner thighs as his lips start to travel down to your neck. You sigh out dreamily, feeling the warmth of his lips make their mark on you.

You suddenly yelp at a particular spot that Sangyeon nips. He pulls away to check if you're okay. You nod, giving him the signal to continue. Before diving back in, Sangyeon notices the spot he had nipped was already red, indicating a mark had been made prior to his own.

Hyunjae… He can already hear that laugh ringing in his ears, but decides not to let the idea get to him and focus on you right now.

Sangyeon continues to litter your neck with kisses, leaving a trail as he makes his way to kissing your inner thighs. Your breathing starts to shake as his lips inch closer to your sex. Sangyeon wasn't even near your core, and he could already feel the heat radiating from you, making him smirk against your skin before giving a featherlight kiss to the wet patch on your underwear.

"Sangyeon, please…" You whine, desperate to feel his tongue wedged between your folds.

"Shh, it’s okay," he looks up at you as he kisses your clothed mound once more. "Let me take the lead."

His fingers pull your panties to the side, feeling his length throb at the beautiful sight of your slick glistening, enticing him to just dive into you. And he does exactly that as he kisses your folds before lapping his tongue between them, taking his sweet time to memorize what you feel like against his wet muscle.

You let out a loud moan as you lie back to enjoy the feeling of Sangyeon between your legs. He continues on like this for a moment until the tip of his tongue starts to circle around your sensitive bud, making your hands fly to his head to pull his face closer to your core.

His lips suck on your throbbing clit as he inserts two fingers into your entrance, curling them up to hit that spot that makes your eyes roll back. Your hips start to mindlessly move on their own as you grind yourself on Sangyeon's face. You sound incredibly hot; it spurs Sangyeon to lower his sweatpants down to free his aching cock and fist it harshly.

You start to feel your high approaching fast, the knot inside you ready to snap any second now. But the moment the vibrations of Sangyeon's groan ring against your core, you scream in ecstasy. You clench your thighs together, squeezing his head as your essence bursts in Sangyeon's mouth. For a quick moment, he thinks to himself that if he could choose to leave this earth, he would gladly go out by being suffocated between your legs.

He pulls his head away to check on you, your chest rising and falling heavily as you catch your breath. You couldn't believe the sight before you right now: Sangyeon's disheveled hair as he too catches his breath, the shine of your essence all over his mouth and chin, and the warmth of his cheeks flaring.

"T-that was—" You try to express your current state, but Sangyeon interrupts you as he quickly removes his shirt and gets up from his spot, exposing his glorious abs and his incredibly hard cock standing at attention. You were so mesmerized by his body you didn't even see him suddenly hovering over your body and kissing you like a man starved.

"Oh, I'm not finished with you yet, sweetheart—" he mumbles against your lips. He spreads your legs further apart with his knee and lowers his weight on you, the tip of his manhood nudging your sensitive clit in the process.

Sangyeon kisses your chest, busy distracting you with the way his mouth sucks on your exposed nipple. He swiftly grabs your legs to wrap them around his torso. And in one swift moment, his thick, veiny length fills you up entirely. You both moan as he starts to roll his hips into you, pumping himself in and out of your cunt as your walls grip around him tightly.

Your bodies begin to melt into each other the longer Sangyeon fucks into your heat, all the raw emotions that have been brewing between you finally free from their confinement. He buries his head into your neck as his thrusts start to become stuttered, the throb of his length inside you signaling his high approaching. You dig the heels of your feet into his lower back, locking him in place as you also feel yourself reaching for the stars once more.

"Let go, Sangyeon, it's okay." You moan into his ear, and instantly he lets out a guttural moan as he stills his movements. His warm release bursts inside you as your own high finally falls off the edge, your walls gripping his member like a vice as he embraces you tightly in the process.

You allow yourselves to stay like this a little longer, taking the time to process everything that had just happened before Sangyeon pulls out and gets up to grab a warm towel to get you cleaned up. He freshens up a bit in your bathroom before finally joining you under the covers. You lay your head on his chest as he pulls you in for a hug.

You sigh dreamily, looking up at him as he smiles at you. You both slowly kiss once more before finally drifting to sleep, both your hearts and minds finally put at ease.

The next day, you wake up with Sangyeon hugging you close. His lips are pressed on your forehead as you feel the warmth of his breath fanning you. You smile, recalling the events of last night and finally being in Sangyeon's arms again.

You slowly peel his arms off you as you get up to use the restroom and make yourself coffee. As you finish brewing your coffee, the bouquet of flowers Sangyeon had put down on the counter catches your eye. You gently grab the bouquet and find a good vase to transfer the flowers into. A sealed envelope tucked between the flowers falls to your feet.

You pick up the envelope and scan the item in your hand for a quick moment before opening the flap and seeing the card inside. You smile to yourself as soon as you read the note, a bittersweet feeling blooming in your chest as you read:

"Pretty girls like you shouldn't be crying anymore, okay? — L.HJ"

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