#but in a way that just makes me unable to use my face wash anymore bc i think it smells like vomit
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microwave-core · 1 year ago
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I have the desire to write yet have no idea what to write
I also htink I'm coming down with something and if I wrote anything right now it would probably be at least somewhat incomprehensible
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wonryllis · 8 months ago
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candy, you're like a drug (m) | sim jaeyun.
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PREVIEW. where jake teaches you how to blow him behind the bleachers just before his soccer practice, unable to resist the charm of you in a cheerleader outfit. well it's not like he has to resist you anymore, you are finally officially his girl.
FEATURING. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader(candy) from WATERMELON SUGAR . . this can absolutely be read as a standalone but i would still suggest giving the full fic a read, if you like this.
WORD COUNT. 3140 edited but don't come at me.
WARNINGS. SMUT MDNI!!!!! blowjob obviously, face fucking, dacryphilia, corruption kink, handjob, reader's a crybaby kinda, pussy rubbing but brief, mentions of eating pussy, voyeurism slightly, jake's mind is literally a museum of dirty thoughts about you. he's way too obsessed with you, he swears a lot and cums a lot, hand in hand. jake is real sweet trust. psst! sunghoon thrid wheeling oh. and that's all i think? idk if it's good i hope y'all like it!
★ YEONIE NOTES. this took so long im sorry guys, pls enjoy and leave comments and feedback i'd love to know your thoughts and yes im still open to doing more drabbles for them!
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cheerleader… not a bad idea, you could definitely make use of it
“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.
“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.
“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.
“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.
“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.
. .
“you okay baby? do your knees hurt too much?” he asks once it settles in that you are doing this here and right now. heart pounding against his ribs so hard, he feels it ringing in his ears. his eyes cast down to the place your knees meet the rough ground and he internally grimaces and scolds himself for letting your soft skin scrap against dirt like this.
“let me just put this down f’ you,” taking off his varsity jacket immediately, he spreads two fold on the ground, pressing his hands on it to make sure it's cushioned enough for you. being glad of the fact that he hadn't taken the jacket off for the practice before you came to give him the surprise.
you smile sweetly at his actions, moving onto the jacket and letting your knees rub against the same cloth you watched him wash just yesterday. his precious jacket that he always took extra care of.
“so? how do i do it?” jake’s eyes quiver, orbs darkening as the lust takes over. blood rushing down quick at the dirty insinuation behind the innocent words that leave your mouth. drunk on the way you already seem so into it.
“take it out first,” he tries not to falter and just moan his heart out when you already jump at pulling his pants and boxers down before he's even finished speaking. holding his breath while he watches you watch his cock slap against his lower abs and then reach out to gently grasp it. mouth instinctively slacking open when he twitches in your grip and slowly bringing him close. a wet smooch at the tip that makes his whole body shudder and release a thick glob of precum, confusing you if he just came, your eyes instantly shooting up to look at him to which he just nods his head telling you to go on. put it in your mouth. his gaze speaks, air dense with anticipation.
“go on baby⁠— fuckkkkk oh god,” fuck fuck fuck, it feels way too good, cock laying heavy against your hot tongue, the softness of your mouth inside feeling like a tight pouch of warmth engulfing him in the most pleasurable way possible.
“just s-suck on it like your lollies,” jake groans, uttering the words through his clenched teeth. just a minute into you trying to give him head and he already feels like busting a nut. god how long has he dreamt of this exact moment and how many times. how many dreadful nights of fisting his cock imagining it was your tiny warm mouth around him, sucking him hard and sloppy like you do with those watermelon lollipops all the damn time in front of him. those torturing times, oh he can't believe he survived it to actually know what it feels like to be inside your mouth.
his hair sticks to his forehead, feeling the sweat drip as he breathed hard with every experimental suck. hands reaching down to push the strands of hair that fall forwards away from your face. thumb caressing your the skin under your eyes as you look up and into his brown orbs. holding eye contact with a dazed doe look that drives him crazy. the touch of your small hands stroking what you can't seemingly fit inside, lips always coming back to suck on his tip, like slurping dripping candy. he felt crazed, insane, and lunatic for still craving so much more of you.
“yeah fuck candy, just like that,” he pants, head tilting back as he gasps for air, everything around him tuning out at the realization of having you on your knees for him.
“shit!” the sudden feeling of you gagging around him after trying to take him all in makes jake jerk forward in a shudder.
it doesn't take him another second to decide that, that's it. he can't control himself anymore and absolutely needs to fuck your mouth, push so deep into your throat it leaves the imprints of his cock and make you so cock drunk all you ever think about when you gulp is him him and just him.
“push my thighs if gets too much—” one of his hands thread into your hair in a makeshift half pony to hold your head firmly and the other squeezing below his tip hard to hold himself from nutting before he gets to the real thing, wanting to drag this out even though he knows sooner or later someone will come searching for him, noticing the quaterback’s absence the moment one pays a tad bit of attention.
jake has never been the one to skip practice and especially not for something indecent like this. being late is not in his veins and keeping his varsity duffle bag at the stark front of the bleachers; his all time habit, always eager to make his presence and determination known. so the fact that he can't be spotted anywhere in the field with his bag resting exactly where it is every time, is more than enough of a reason to have the whole team searching around for him. however, in all honesty, you being an exception to all of jake's rules(as it has always been) all he hopes for is not being caught no matter how much the thought of it arouses him. he can't let people see this pretty you. wanting to gatekeep you to the very last bits. hence, this blowjob is way more important, and practice and his team can just wait a few extra minutes.
he starts off slow at first, thrusting careful and steady, to let you adjust to it. ten, nine, eleven, eleven, trying to count sheep in his head not to lose his cool too quick. shit shit shit, it's okay, it's all good.
it works for a while, even if his counting is fucked over like him, it works for a short fleeting while. maybe a minute or two or three, he has no idea but it's too brief of a time to be called as holding back.
he takes one look at you. just one look, at the way you already seem to be struggling, drooling all around him with your doe eyes all wide and teary, a few drops slipping out with each thrust of him. you are a crybaby for sure and maybe it would've annoyed him if it were someone else but come on it's you. he already imagined you to be a crybaby and god did it turn him on beyond expectation, though he didn't think you'd actually be one, and he definitely never thought he'd love it so so much when you cried for him. eyelashes wet and batting at him, doing whatever it takes to keep your eyes open and trained on him.
if he knew it was because the first time you fucked, he asked you to keep your eyes on him and you thought he liked it when you did it, hence forcing your hooded eyes to stay on him right now.. jake would lose his mind into the depths of hell and into the sins of lust.
the whimper you let out when his cock hits the back of your throat makes him buck his hips forward once, and at realization of how you're struggling and yet not pushing him away because you want it just as much as him, his grip on your head tightens before he starts thrusting frantically like a madman. albeit, at the back of his subconscious he's still holding back, knowing you're not yet ready to handle his true lost self.
“i swear, you're trying to kill me,” his voice strains with the amount of moans and groans he held back all time to make sure people don't find him.
back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. jake's hips fall into a rhythm of their own as he swears out all the curses known to mankind at the back of his mind. feeling so good, it makes him question if all the sex he had until you was actually some real sex or just some otome simulation he played.
there's no way something as simple as this and something where he has to be sane enough to hold his demons in check could feel so damn ecstatic.
his eyes shut tight at the feeling of his orgasm creeping in quick. not wanting to overwhelm you by coming deep inside your throat, yet not being able to stop the frenzied thrusts: desperate and erratic. fucking you had him fighting demons but having your mouth on him also has him fight demons, though a level lower, but feeling like his life would be sucked out of him.
and if there's anyone who he'd actually let sucking his life out of him, it'd be you. one whine of his name and he'll fold to give you his cock anytime and anywhere.
“fuck candy, ‘m so close,” jake's strokes falter into sloppy movements when you suck in your lips to squeeze him tighter showing no signs of pushing at his thighs and just letting him hold your head in place and use you as he pleases.
just as he feels the first twinge of coming undone, jake quite literally forces himself out, gritting his teeth and holding his breath as he pulls away mumbling out a rough fuck while staggering in his steps.
“jerk me off, wanna finish on your face, wan to paint your pretty little cheeks and your cute little tongue with my cum,” he mutters, guiding one of your hands to his cock as one of his own moves to hold your jaw and squeeze your cheeks to keep your mouth open. thumb rubbing against your lower lips while he bites his own at your hands returning to stroke him like you did before. brows furrowing and heart thumping loud as his orgasm builds up again.
he's gonna cum so much and jake knows because it starts to hurt. and like the masochist he is, he heightens it by bringing his other hand to hold his cock over your small slick ones,”twist it like this under the head,” he says squeezing and moving his hands in twists to show you just how he likes it. and lord do you get it so well, twisting harshly just under the head like he said and then pulling at it. it's honestly a mysery to jake how he's lasted this long and not just cum in the first two minutes of you touching him. perhaps his experience comes to some use, but then even his experience can't help him from nutting in just merely twenty minutes. the time he so struggled to calculate just a couple seconds before he lets the pleasure take over and the hot spurts of cum shoot out on your tongue and all over your face.
“mhmmm fuck baby fuckkkk—” jake hisses, biting down on his lips hard as his whole body spasms with pleasure, ropes of cum spilling out the tip, pushing his hips in quick thrusts into your fist.
and even though jake has perhaps sworn a million times that he's not a voyeur, that he does not feel his entire being ascending into the holy sins at the prospect of being watched with you, especially anyone besides him, watching you, he swears he has sworn on it a good damn gazallion times. yet when he spots a boggled and overwhelmed sunghoon, gaping and gawking in the corner, the intrigue and hunger in his obscure gaze evident along with his obvious boner; jake feels a second orgasm coaxed out of him in another spurt of cum that lands directly on that spot on your lips he loves to rub his fingers over.
fuck. that's all jake can think of watching sunghoon realize he was caught and immediately rushing off. since when was that prick watching? he better not have gotten a look at your teary eyes and heard the little whines you let out.
he doesn't let it bother him too long though, he'll deal with it when he gets back to the field.
what he now wants to focus on is you and only you.
running his thumb over the splashes of cum and smearing them on your lips, inserting his fingers into your mouth and telling you to suck before he's pulling you up by your waist and holding you tight against him. his cock rubs against the fabric of your skirt, twitching with sensitivity at the touch but he pays it no mind. his own lips hovering over yours as he speaks in a whisper,”are you okay? did i hurt you somewhere?”
you shake your head in denial and jake heaves a sigh of relief, proceeding to tame your hair back to how it was before. palms caressing your head softly, and fingers threading through the strands all gentle and slow. not wanting this moment with you to end. his lips lock with yours in the midst of it as his hands fall down to your waist again. kissing with so much fervor and desperation, it makes you rub your thighs together to get some kind of a friction. and jake notices it for his hand had moved to play with the ends of your short skirt, knuckles loosely brushing against the back of your thighs that fidgeted every time he sucked on your tongue or nibbled on your lips.
“oh, my baby seems bothered,” pulling away to whisper it against your lips that chase his own for more.
“what do you want? tell me and i’ll give it to you,” jake grins, watching you struggle out of embarrassment,”come on candy, use your words,” it's so cute, should he just touch you or should he take his time cooing at your fumbling self.
“w- want yo—”
“well since you aren't gonna say it,” he picks up his jacket from the ground and brings it up to your face to wipe off his cum from your cheeks. pushing against the plump of your skin to make your lips pout out and one of your eyes close.
“want you to touch me too,” you whine.
“where baby? you gotta tell me,” he teased further, booping your nose before putting his jacket back on him.
“here,” jake’s breath hitches when you guide his hand down to touch you over your panties, the fabric so damn wet you might as well have cum untouched. the prospect of that being true turns him on beyond what's humanely possible. you cumming untouched while he fucked your mouth, god the thought of it makes him crazy. but thinking back on how sunghoon wandered in, it's better to leave it at this for now. can't have more people getting the opportunity to see you.
“here? my baby wants me to touch her pussy?” there's so much more he wants to say, but he knows if he says it now there's no way he won't be getting rock hard again and completely ditching practice.
his fingers press hard into your folds while he rubs around, his other hand squeezing your ass and his face buried in your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he bites and nibbles on the skin there.
“i’m sorry candy, but you'll have to wait until after practice. want to take my time eating you out. want to make you cum at least three times,” and make you squirt, he wants to add but man does the thought of it make his dick twitch, speaking it out loud would just make him squirt a pump of cum.
he slips his fingers inside to gather your wetness, sliding two fingers between your folds before taking it out and putting them into his mouth,"fuck, love the way you taste,”he groans. his favorite candy in the world. his drug, candy.
jake spends another minute rubbing you over your slick panties and letting his other hand on your ass move all over and grope you wherever he can. he makes sure it's just enough to have you craving his touch the entire time you wait. feeling jealous over the thought that having you wait for him by the bleachers would give sunghoon a view of you too. and knowing his friend, he probably won't have any innocent thoughts about you after what he walked into.
“come on now let's go,” it takes a great deal of self constraint for jake to pull away but alas it will only be fruitful once he gets through practice and has all the time in the world to pleasure you.
he helps you fix your appearance and dusts off his jacket and pulls up his pants before he leads you back out into the field where everyone waited for him.
“wait for me here,” he says, bringing you to his bag where he takes off his ‘thisisneverthat’ shirt to put on his jersey with a smug grin lacing his lips. placing his jacket on your lap to cover your pretty legs, if he could he would just burrito you with a blanket and th— no sim that's creepy.
“I'll be back before you know it,” bending down to place a chaste kiss on lips and forehead, he promises. jogging away to the middle of the field and taking his position beside sunghoon. it feels like there's a spark of tension between them from what you catch, but perhaps you're just thinking too much, they're good friends aren't they?
TAGLIST. @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @jaklvbub @kwiwin @brachives @jayhoonvroom @haelahoops @aaa-sia @lovingvoidgoatee @txtlyn @jakehooni @mnxnii @rikisly @notevenheretbh1 @yunjinsbbg @pjsfvs @yizhoutv @enhyven @capri-cuntz @heeseungsbabyy @aishigrey @wooziswife @citylightsdoll @yeonzzzn @istphanie @chaewonshoney @cha0thicpisces @laurradoesloveu @bambammtori @wonsbaer @ayyysweetcreature
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10byten · 16 days ago
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Last night, I imagined Jaehyun telling everyone just how deeply in love he is with his girlfriend. The way he’d talk about what makes her so special in his eyes, how she’s this perfect mix of chaos and calm that he can’t get enough of. How she’s not just someone he loves—she’s the reason everything makes sense. And that’s it. Just Jaehyun, utterly smitten, trying to put into words what feels impossible to explain.
Jaehyun finally told the guys about you. The way you live in his head, rent-free. The way everything feels a little too quiet when you’re not there. He tried to keep you to himself, but he couldn’t anymore—not when you’re all he thinks about.
-
“Wait, can you say that again?” Mark’s eyes widen like a cartoon character caught mid-thought. The boys are all gathered around the living room table.
Jaehyun had called what they jokingly refer to as an “emergency assembly” to drop the bombshell: there’s someone in his life now, and he’s planning to move in with them. It’s time, apparently, to finally introduce them to his friends.
“I mean, I don’t know, you’ve been hyping this girl up for so long, and we still haven’t seen her. At this point, I’m starting to think she’s a figment of your imagination,” Johnny teases, leaning back in his chair.
“Ha. Ha.” Jaehyun deadpans, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I know I’ve been talking about her for a while, and yeah, none of you have met her yet.”
“And we don’t want to meet her,” Jungwoo says, dramatically crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.
“Don’t listen to him, hyung. We’re dying to meet your ghost girlfriend. Like, is this some ‘Ghost’ movie situation where only you can see her, or is she gonna appear if we summon her with a medium?”
Jaehyun throws a pillow straight at his younger friend’s face.
“She’s real,” he insists, his voice softer near the end as if embarrassed. “I just... didn’t want to share her. I wanted to keep her to myself for a while.”
“Oh, you were scared we’d steal your girl, huh, Jung?” Doyoung smirks.
Jaehyun snorts, shaking his head with a calm confidence. “Not a chance, Kim. She’s not into innocent little boys like you.”
Doyoung pulls a face, his mock outrage making everyone laugh.
“Well, I’m happy for you, man,” Taeyong says sincerely. “We’re all excited to meet her.”
“So, tell us—what’s so amazing about her?” Haechan leans forward, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.
Jaehyun’s gaze drops to the table, a thoughtful look washing over his face. Then his eyes light up, and a soft smile stretches across his lips.
“She has this... effect on me. When she’s not around, it’s like this itch I can’t scratch, and nothing feels right until she’s back. She’s got this way of making everything in my life just... easier. She makes me feel like even the stuff that doesn’t make sense is still okay, like it all fits somehow. Sometimes, it feels like she controls the weather—my weather—and I think maybe she does. At least in my world.”
He pauses, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy laugh. “Honestly, even I start to wonder if she’s a mirage. She must be made of some kind of magic, though, right? Because who else could do that to someone? Every time I’m with her, I feel a little more drunk on her. It’s weird, but I finally get that saying about having someone under your skin.”
The room falls silent. The guys are all staring at him, wide-eyed and stunned.
“And of course,” Jaehyun adds with a sheepish grin, “she’s gorgeous, sweet, sexy, brilliant, and funny.”
Haechan is the first to recover. “Hold up—what happened to the emotionally unavailable, zero-feelings Jaehyun we know? This guy’s a clone. We need to file a missing person report.”
“Shut up, idiot. It’s called being in love,” Yuta says, rolling his eyes. “You might figure that out one day if your brain ever grows up.”
“I know this doesn’t sound like me, but—”
“But it proves you’re really in love,” Yuta cuts in.
Jaehyun blushes and nods, unable to hide his smile.
“So, when do we get to meet this ‘delicious creature’ of yours?” Johnny asks, grinning like he’s not about to let it go.
-
“Hey, love. Where are you?”
You slip off your shoes the moment you walk into the apartment, already eager to see him. When Jaehyun spots you, his face lights up, and the book he was holding is instantly forgotten as he crosses the room to pull you into his arms. He lifts you slightly, and you laugh, wrapping your arms around him.
“Hello, love of my life.”
“Hello, you.” You kiss him softly.
“How was your day?” he asks, just like he always does.
“Intense. And yours?” you murmur, your fingers threading through his hair.
“Long without you. Fun with the guys,” he says, stealing a quick kiss.
“Oh yeah? What did you guys do?”
He looks at you deeply, his eyes full of warmth. “Talked. About stuff. About you.”
You tilt your head, feeling a mix of flattery and slight embarrassment.
“They’re coming for dinner tomorrow,” he says casually, brushing his lips against your cheek. “To finally meet you. Is that okay?”
“I’m okay with anything that involves you or the people you care about,” you reply between kisses.
Jaehyun groans softly against your lips. “You have to be unreal. Always saying the perfect thing.”
“Then I guess this is one beautiful illusion we’re living together.”
“It definitely is. babe”
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changetyre · 3 months ago
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Broken ⒾⓈⓌ
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SUMMARY: You and Max are having trouble trying to grow your family and your daughters are affected by it. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse
WARNINGS: Angst, miscommunication, pregnancy issues, a smidge of smut at the end.
A/N: This was requested over on Wattpad. Despite the angst, this is one of my favorite parts of this series.
Max stretched out, his back feeling painful after carrying all the presents he'd bought up from the parking lot before stashing them in a high cupboard in the house where he was sure nobody would look. It was late and he'd spent most of the day out looking for gifts, although truly it was also an excuse to get some space since the environment at home wasn't the best right now. 
The house was quiet when he arrived, a good indicator the girls were already asleep in their room and you as well probably. Although only a few months ago there wouldn't be a day you wouldn't wait for Max before going to bed, physically unable to go to sleep without hearing his voice but lately things had changed and you and Max often went to bed without exchanging any words at all. 
Once he finally made his way to your bedroom he wasn't surprised to find you were in fact asleep, clothes scattered around the room which you also hadn't bothered to clean up. Max sighed, he was tired having not really had a day of relaxation since the season ended despite imagining he'd spend his winter holidays differently, that things would somehow get better. 
He proceeded to pick up the room a little bit making it a little more presentable before taking a quick shower and joining you in bed. While his skin screamed to feel yours Max didn't feel comfortable enough to do so anymore, not knowing how you'd react to him placing an arm around you like he had done every night since you'd gotten together..until a few months ago. 
The next morning Max woke up to find you'd woken up but stayed laying there simply staring up at the ceiling, he knew your mind was spiraling but truly didn't want to ask anymore knowing you'd shut him out.  
"Hey," Max asked. His voice almost felt too loud for the silence. 
"Hi." Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound almost strange to him not used to hearing it often anymore. 
"How d'you sleep?" Max asked. 
"I'm gonna go make breakfast for the girls." you ignored his question avoiding eye contact as you left the room leaving no more space for conversation. 
Once Max got himself ready for the day he went out to join you for breakfast finding you'd already eaten and were in the process of washing the dishes. He'd be lying if he said this didn't hurt him but held back from saying anything not wanting to start an argument. 
The rest of the day was mostly spent in silence apart from the laughter and ruckus from your children there were no words exchanged between you and Max. At some point, Max left the house once more wanting space. 
"Mama," Ivy called you as you played with both your daughters in the balcony. 
"Yeah, baby." Your daughters naturally made you smile, probably the only time you showed any sort of emotion lately. 
"Do you and Papa not love each other anymore?" She asked. 
Your heart skipped a beat, the immediate urge to cry reaching your throat and you only hoped your eyes gave no indication to the sudden burst of emotion. You noticed the way Lea's smile also dropped at the question, her attention ready to hear your answer. 
"Uhm, of course we do baby why would you think that?" You asked hoping your shaky voice didn't worry your daughters. 
"Papa doesn't blink at you anymore...like dis mama." Ivy showed you by blinking her eyes hard three times just like her father used to do to you almost daily before. 
The reminder of this almost broke you, you began picking up the girl's toys making sure they weren't able to see your face properly as you began crying. "You don't have to worry girls, everythings okay with Papa and me." You lied to your daughters, and it was evident by the weakness of your voice but you weren't sure what else to say. 
"Mama, are you okay?" Lea asked this time, her voice filled with concern, she was growing up, she of course noticed things, possibly understood things a little more than her sister and you knew you were hurting her, hurting them both and thought of this killed you inside. 
"I'm fine Lea, why don't you take your sister to your room and watch a movie, I'm gonna shower." You tried your best to force a smile wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before facing your older daughter. 
Lea simply nodded not wanting to cause you more distress before taking Ivy's hand and guiding her away. Once they were gone you let yourself cry it out. 
Trying and failing to conceive another child had been more emotionally draining than you had ever imagined it would be. You and Max had tried, tried, and tired to the point making love to him wasn't exciting anymore, it was frustrating, full of desperation, and so eventually, you stopped. You stopped trying, stopped connecting, stopped loving.  
Silence seemed like the easiest solution, not willing to face the reality of it all. Drowning in your own thoughts was exhausting but it seemed like the better option since potentially hearing the way you let down your partner, your family was worse. 
But it was obvious now, it was obvious how much this was already hurting your family so you had to toughen up now, muster enough strength to talk to Max, talk to your husband, and face whatever was next for you, whether good or bad it had to better than letting your daughters see the way things were falling apart between you. 
___________
Max once again came home to silence, he could hear the TV on in the girl's room and he didn't want to go to his room so instead decided to try to wrap up the presents in secret while he had the time. 
Max was semi-successful, his daughters had walked out of their room and been insistent on wanting to know what Max was doing despite him telling them several times to go back to their rooms and his patience was wearing thin. 
He was only able to get them to stay in their rooms after promising them a play date with their uncle Lando on the weekend if they behaved. Finally knowing they would stay in their rooms Max took the time to try to hide the gifts again so he could put them under the tree by the end of the month. 
He'd headed to the bathroom and when he came back anger and frustration flooded him at seeing Lea helping Ivy up to the counter to try to open the cupboard where he'd stashed the gifts. 
"LEA!" Max yelled letting his emotions control him for the first time with his daughters. 
Lea and Ivy both gasped and Max ran to catch Ivy who almost slipped off the counter trying to get down quickly. 
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING! WERE YOU EVEN THINKING!? YOUR SISTER COULD'VE GOTTEN HURT!" Max yelled at his older daughter. 
You heard the commotion from the room running out to check on the situation. "I WANT YOU BOTH IN YOUR ROOMS, NO TV, NO GAMES, GO STRAIGHT TO BED!" Max continued yelling. 
Both Ivy and Lea were in tears at seeing their dad so angry for the first time in their lives, running straight to their rooms. 
"Max calm down." Your heart broke, you knew Max was never like this with your daughters and it scared you to see this side of him come out, feeling partly guilty for it. 
"Oh wow...so now you decide to talk to me." Max scoffed pushing past you and into your room. 
Your heart broke at the action, but he was right. You knew he needed time to cool off so you headed to your daughter's room to check on them. 
Opening the door you had to try to hold back your own tears at the sight. Lea held Ivy in her arms as they both sobbed. You couldn't say anything to afraid to burst into tears so instead sat by your daughter's bed and hugged them both. 
"I-I-I'm so-so-sorry-ma-ma." Lea hiccuped not being able to catch her own breath at how much she cried. 
This time you felt a few tears run down your cheeks. "Hey baby it's okay." You took her face in your hands trying to soothe her. "Lea honey it's okay." You blew gently on your daughter's face trying to calm her down. 
"Pa-pa's- ang-angr-angry." she continued hiccuping. 
"I know darling he shouldn't have yelled like that baby. He loves you so much, we both do." You reminded her kissing her forehead. 
Eventually, Ivy had fallen asleep crying on her sister's lap so you picked her up and moved her to her bed tucking her in. You then went back to your older daughter who was having a little bit of a harder time settling down. 
"Lea listen sometimes people get angry at other things and they feel so angry for a long time that when something else happens they just blow up and scream." You tried your best to explain to your daughter. 
"Like papa?" She asked. 
"Yeah like Papa Baby, Papa's feeling a lot of things because of something else and unfortunately he just took it out on you." You revealed. 
Little did you know Max was listening from outside, after cooling off a little he felt bad and meant to go apologize to his daughters but stopped once he heard you inside with them. 
"But why?" Lea asked. "Why is papa angry mama?" Lea was almost 6, you knew she was starting to get a better grasp of things and you also knew being honest with her would be the best thing for her right now so after thinking about it for a few seconds you decided to just be honest with her. 
"Do you remember on Ivy's 2nd birthday when she wished for a brother?" You asked your daughter. 
"Yeah," Lea replied moving her head to look up at you. 
"Well your Papa and I after that, after talking a lot tried to make another baby..."Your voice broke. 
Max's heart broke at hearing you struggle to speak. 
"Well, we tried for a long time and Mama just couldn't get another baby in her tummy which made both Mama and Papa really really sad." You revealed. 
"Why won't the baby go in your tummy mama?" Lea asked innocently, reaching for her little hand to wipe some tears off your cheek. 
"I don't know baby, maybe mommy's broken." You were full-on crying but you could see your daughter's understanding eyes at the situation. 
"Is that why Papa doesn't say I love you with his eyes anymore?" Lea asked again, oblivious to the impact her question had on her parents. Max fell to his knees outside the room distraught at the guilt he could hear in your voice, and about the fact that his daughters and possibly you thought he didn't love you anymore. 
"I don't know honey...maybe. It's not easy when you want something really really bad and you just can't get it so it can make you feel a lot of things, mommy feels like it's her fault that the baby doesn't want to go in her tummy." You tried to finish explaining. 
"I'm sorry Mama." Lea apologized once more. "But even if you are broken mama I'll still love you the same, I'll even say it with my eyes if you want." Lea smiled imitating her dad by blinking her eyes I love you just like her dad used to do. 
This time your tears were of gratitude at feeling the love your daughter had for you, the simplicity with which her mind understood the situation and tried to make you feel better. "Thank you, baby." You hugged your daughter placing kisses on her cheek. 
Lea settled enough, feeling a little better at understanding why things had been a little weird at home lately. You watched her fall asleep. You took a deep breath ready to have a difficult conversation with your husband praying it might go a little similar to the conversation you had with your daughter. 
You walked out of their room and were surprised to find Max sitting outside, his back to the wall with his face in his hands. You could tell he'd been crying from the wet spots on his shirt and trousers. 
"Maxy." You fell to your knees beside him. 
Max pulled his hands away as you both wrapped your arms around each other at the same time. You both started crying in each other's arms, Max holding you tightly against him. 
"You're not broken, I never thought so either I just wanted you to talk to me." He whispered. "I love you so much and I'm sorry I ever let you doubt it, and I'm sorry for screaming at Ivy and Lea, I'm just- I'm so sorry for everything" Max cried tucking his face in the crook of your neck.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I felt so useless and frustrated I couldn't get pregnant. I know how long you've been trying to hold it together for us, for all of us and I shouldn't have ever let you carry all of it on your own. I'm sorry too for everything."  You also apologized. "I love you, Max, I don't think I'll ever be able to stop loving you I just wanted to give us another baby." 
"I know." Max sighed pulling back and wiping tears from under your eyes with his thumbs. "Look I would love to have another baby with you, I'd have a 100 if it was with you but I'm so enamored by the family you've given me already, our girls...they're the best thing that have ever happened to me and if trying to have another baby is gonna cost us...us...than I don't want it." Max was honest. 
You nodded agreeing with his words. 
"It doesn't mean we stop trying, we can if that's what you want but I just want you back first, I need us to be okay before trying again okay?" He asked you. 
"Yeah." You agreed once more. 
Max rested his forehead against yours. You heard him take a deep breath. "God I missed you." he sighed before leaning down to place his lips against yours. 
You kissed him back harshly almost desperate to taste him again mentally questioning yourself how you were able to survive without this for as long as you did. "I love you," you whispered as you momentarily pulled away to catch your breath. 
But Max kept kissing you not wanting for this to stop, as if his body was trying to catch up on all the time he spent without your touch. "I love you." He whispered back scooping you into his lap, your legs wrapping around him as he stood up with you in his arms before taking you to your bedroom. 
Laying you down on your shared bed it once again felt right, being shared with him. Max was quick to get you naked, teasing you as he prepared you for him.
"I adore you." He whispered as he slipped into you. You'd be okay.
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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 days ago
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Chapter 8- Something to Believe In
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Summary: Frankie makes good on his promise to pick you up from work.
Word count: 3.7K
Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname, no use of y/n)
Warnings: Having a panic attack (cue Frankie to the rescue), mentions of death and grieving, angst, yearning, could we perhaps be ✨making progress✨?
A/N: Hi friends!! Thanks for bearing with me after no new chapter last week! This one's also on the shorter side, but that's not to say there aren't some BIG things happening 👀 My hope is to have another chapter done by next week, but with holiday business, it may have to be two weeks between chapters again (sorry sorry sorry!!) Thank you as always for your lovely and kind words, ily all so much MWAH
All The Things We Never Said Masterlist
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Frankie, Present 
“I’m done at ten.” 
By the time he gets back home at 6:43, he’s already counting down the hours until you’re finished with your shift. 
Three hours and seventeen minutes, to be exact. 
For as much as Frankie could easily spend the next three hours and seventeen minutes doing nothing but staring at the clock hanging adjacent to the TV in the living room, he knows he’ll drive himself out of his goddamn mind. He needs something to do. 
If he keeps himself busy, he can’t fester on the million and one ways he could manage to fuck this up. 
Frankie forces himself to eat some sort of half-assed dinner, despite his nervous nausea that’s got the best of him. He purposely uses as many dishes and utensils to make a sandwich as humanly possible- if he does, it gives him something to do after. 
He cleans out his entire truck, down to vacuuming every last crumb crunched between the driver’s seat and center console. He debates washing the car himself in the driveway, but if he drives it to the carwash three blocks down the road, it’ll kill more time. 
On his way home, he stops at Auto Zone to get you a new car battery and exchanges it for your old one, dead, under the hood of your car. 
Frankie takes a shower so long, he can feel in real time the water shift from boiling hot, to luke warm, to ice cold. He washes his hair twice. His body, three times. 
He unpacks just about every item of clothing from his suitcase, laying them out on his bed in multiple combinations of pants and shirts, debating whether you'll think he’s a psychopath for showing up in a different outfit only a few hours after dropping you off. Frankie settles on shorts and a t-shirt- nice enough he doesn’t look like a fool, but casual enough for you not to suspect he’s been staring at every article of clothes he owns for the past thirty minutes. 
And somehow, after all of that, he still ends up in the Parrot’s Nest parking lot at 9:23. 
Thirty-seven minutes worth of waiting is a lot more manageable than the better part of three hours. 
Unfortunately, the last thirty-seven minutes he spends sitting in the parking lot are the most agonizing of his whole endeavor. 
He throws the last few innings of the Tampa Bay Rays game on the radio in the background, unable to stand the sound of silence that haunts him when he’s alone with his thoughts. 
Frankie tries not to panic at the fact that it seems like he’s forgotten how to engage in basic human conversation, praying that no one can see the way he’s rehearsing his greeting to you upon your arrival into the passenger seat. 
“Hey, what’s up? No, fuck, that’s stupid.” Frankie mutters to himself, running his palm over his face, “Hey, MacKenzie, how was work? No, ‘cause what if work was fucking awful and I’m just gonna piss her off more. Jesus.” 
He takes a few more long, deep breaths, staring at the roof of his truck while he tries to concoct the perfect set of words to string together. 
“Hey, Kenz. Kenzie? MacKenzie? Does she even fucking go by Kenz anymore? Fuck. Hey, miss me?” He jokes by his lonesome, his fake smile quickly fading at the anticipation of your response, “She obviously didn’t miss you, idiot. You’re lucky you can barley get her to fucking talk to you. Fuck me.” 
His pained groan and scrunched shut face are enough cut off the awareness to his surroundings just long enough to leave him oblivious to the fact you’ve not only exited the Parrot’s Nest, but have made your way across the parking lot and have your hand wrapped around the passenger door, rattling the handle. 
“Jesus fucking Christ!” Frankie shouts, nearly jumping out of his own skin at the way you’ve announced yourself by shaking at the locked door. 
So much for rehearsing. 
“F-fuck-” He stammers, taking a moment to catch his breath from your scare, praying he hasn’t managed to shit his pants from how badly you’ve startled him. Once his pulse settles to rate low enough he’s convinced he hasn’t died of a heart attack, he leans over to unlock your door, unable to make eye contact with you as he grimaces his face in embarrassment. 
“S-sorry.” you murmur, sheepishly climbing into the seat next to him, quietly clicking in your seatbelt. 
“Jesus Kenz, you scared the shit outta me.” Frankie gulps, still trying to compose himself. He runs his hand through the curls of his hair, taking one last slow inhale and exhale with his eyes peeled to the floor, hoping the pink drains from his cheeks before he looks over at you. 
“Sorry, I- I didn’t mean to. I thought maybe you fell asleep, or something. You shrug, trying to defend your reasoning. 
“I wouldn’t offer to come pick you up and then fall asleep on you, I’m not that big of an assho-” 
Frankie cuts himself off before he can finish the rest of his thought, feeling the “L” and “E” of “asshole” die off somewhere in the back of his throat, killed by the death glare you give in proclamation of his own self-righteousness.  
He starts the car without another word, pulling out of the parking lot and hoping that his silence begs enough forgiveness. 
The crackling static of the car radio fills the void between you, Andy Freed’s ecstatic voice capturing both of your attentions enough to let the current state of the Tampa Bay Rays game shift your focus. 
“What’s the score?” You ask, nonchalant, eyes wandering anywhere but Frankie’s direction. 
“Oh- uh, I- I think it was 1-3 last time I checked, but it sounds like someone on the Rays just hit a sac fly, so I’m guessing it’s 2-3, now.” 
There’s a moment of silence, Frankie assuming you’ve got it in you to at least make one question’s worth of small talk. You seem just as surprised as him that you don’t let the conversation die there. 
“Did you um- you watched the game when you got home?” 
Your gaze won’t lock with his, but now, it’ll at least travel in his general direction. 
“N-no, I just uh- I just turned it on while I was waiting in the car.” 
“How long were you waiting for?” 
“N-not that long.” He barely gives you enough time to breathe, let alone call him out on his bullshit before he’s changing the subject, “How uh- how was work?” 
“Oh- It was uh- it was fine. Went by really slow. B-because it wasn’t um, it wasn’t that busy.” 
Frankie’s no code breaker, but he hopes the way you’re so quick to give him a reason why your shift had dragged on is a secret way of saying you spent just as long thinking about him as he did about you. 
“Sorry it was so slow.” 
Frankie knows his apology doesn’t do anything for you, but the way he’s picking each word that comes out of his mouth has him feeling like he’s tiptoeing through a minefield, too scared to make any move besides the one that seems the safest. 
“It’s okay, not your fault. That’s honestly part of the reason I took this job- was to give myself something to do, so I don’t spend every last second that my dad is alive dwelling on the fact that pretty soon, he’s not gonna be alive. It’s stupid, but I guess if being preoccupied with serving middle aged couples mozzarella sticks and over-cooked steak tacos for a few hours helps, then so be it.”  
He knows better than anyone that your attempt at humor is your shield, but it’s not hard to see how weathered and worn it’s become, barely hanging on by a thread to protect you from the worst battle you still have yet to face. 
“N-no, it makes sense. Distractions help. I-It’s been hard, having to see him like this. I get it.” 
His last sentence makes your head snap up from the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, Frankie hopes that maybe your attentiveness means he’s had a breakthrough, showing enough genuine empathy that you’ll cut him a little slack. 
When he turns enough to see the scowl plastered across your face, he realizes he’s stepped on a bomb, and he’s moments away from explosion. 
“Oh, you ‘get it’, huh?” You scoff, sadistic smile curling in the corner of your cheeks. 
Frankie can see the way your blood is beginning to boil, trying to backtrack as quickly as possible to find any way to save himself. 
“N-no- I mean, shit-  no, Kenz, you know what I mean.” Frankie pleads. 
“No, I don’t know what you mean, Frankie. Please, explain.” 
The way your arms are crossed and head is cocked tells him everything he needs to know. Against his better judgement, Frankie decides not to take cover. He goes headfirst into the warzone. 
“C’mon, Kenz, don’t be like this.” Frankie sighs, preemptively kicking himself that this is the route he’s chosen to take. 
“Like what?” You snap back, sharp and sarcastic. 
“Like it’s not hard for me, too. Like I can’t be sad about it. You’re not the only person who cares about him, MacKenzie. He was the closest thing I had to a dad, too.” 
“But he’s not your dad, is he? And if you were, that’d make you a pretty shitty son, wouldn’t it?” 
It hits him like a cold, hard slap to the face, the way you don’t dare to show him even an ounce of mercy. There’s something about the bitterness in the way you ask it that hurts even more than if you would have just screamed at him, cursed him out, punched and pushed him until he bruised. 
A stark silence falls over the car, tension so thick, it’s like a bag of bricks has been dropped from the sky, drowning him in a useless pile of cement. There’s no use in crying for help. He doesn’t dare to speak, simply out of fear that if he does, this won’t be the worst of what’s yet to come. 
Frankie stays trapped for what feels like hours, each second passing by more painfully slow than the last as you stare out your window, watching the shadows of street lights dance across your body, illuminating you just enough to see the way your chest trembles with short, frantic breaths as you unravel. Your sobs can’t hide behind the silence in the way your tears can in the darkness. 
“Do you know how fucking lonely it is, Frankie? How lonely it is when everyone you’ve ever cared about leaves you? It’s like I’m fucking Midas, but everything I touch, eventually, I lose. A life before cancer, my soccer career, an engagement, a future, my dad, you? You don’t get to tell me how hard it is for you, because you get to let go of what you want on your terms, when it’s convenient for you, don’t you? I’m so sick of losing, Frankie. I’m so sick of it.” 
He watches in real time how something inside you snaps, like a bottle of soda that’s erupted after someone’s violently shaken shaken it, the twist of the cap releasing all the pressure and tension that’s been stored up and compounded upon with each rattle of their wrist. 
Frankie knows he’s not responsible for all of it, but he's the last bump you can take before you have no other choice but to overflow, leaving every ounce of you to seep out, vulnerable and exposed. 
What starts off as softs sobs, quickly shifts to heart wrenching heaves of your chest, every word you’re trying to get out lodged in your throat. He sees how your eyes fill with fear at the way you suddenly can’t catch your breath, body shaking as you shrink into your seat, fingers wrapping around your seatbelt with an iron grip around the worn fabric. 
“Kenz? Kenzie, are you okay?” It only seems fair he’s completely disregarded everything you’d had to say, beginning to panic at your tremoring figure crumpled next to him, speaking in nothing but violent wails you can’t control. 
“I- I- f-fuck, f-f- Frankie, fuck, n- no, no, I-” 
He won’t let you finish your thought- he only lets you stammer out the few words you can manage before he’s pulled off on the nearest neighborhood side street he can find. He blames it on military habit, how quick he is to react in the face of your panic, but he knows damn well it’s nothing but instinct the way he’s all but throwing off his seatbelt so he can reach across the center console and wrap you in his arms. 
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here. Just try and breathe, okay?” Frankie whispers, squeezing you so tightly in his arms you just might break. 
“I c-can’t, I can’t, fuck, i-it- it, it f-feels like I can’t breathe.” You sob, feeling your tear stains pool in the fabric of his shirt covering, face buried against his chest. 
“I know. I know it’s scary. I promise you’re okay, it’ll pass. Just try and breathe with me, okay?” 
He hopes you don’t notice how shaky his own breaths are, trying his best to stay calm with each long inhale and exhale he takes. The wave of grief that washes over him is different than the one you’re drowning in, the kind that makes his heart break at the type of panic he’s known all too well- he’d give every bone in his body to absorb your pain and make it his, but the best he can do is hold you until it subsides. He’ll hold you all night, if that’s what it takes. 
It’s a few minutes before he can finally feel your heart rate starting to slow, the stiffness of your muscles beginning to ease in his grasp as you come back down to earth with him. Your tears haven’t stopped, but at least your chest starts to rise and fall with his. It’s a baby step, but he’ll take any steps he can get in the right direction. 
“There ya go. Just like that. It’s okay. Worst of it’s over, I promise.” 
With the way one thumb is gently stroking your back and the other is carefully brushing the back of your head, it’s safe to say every inhibition Frankie could have has flown out the window. He hates how there’s a selfish part of him that can’t describe the way it feels to hold you again, even if it’s like this, but that’s a battle of his own he’s not willing to face today. For now, he’ll accept the sweet bliss of his self-indulgence while you’re curled against him. 
“You’re okay, Kenz. I’m here. I promise, you’re okay.” 
Enough time passes that his t-shirt isn’t getting any wetter, finally brave enough to peek your head up from the crook of his neck to wipe your tear stained cheeks with the back of your hand. Frankie’s grip only loosens enough to let you sit up, arms still engulfing your frame, tight enough to make sure you don’t float away on him again. 
“I- I’m s-sorry.” 
It’s so soft as it leaves your lips, if he wasn’t waiting on your every word, Frankie just might have missed it. Little do you know, he’s hanging on your every breath. 
“Hey,” he pauses, your eyes locking with his, softly pouting at the way your panic has made your face red and puffy, carefully swiping his thumb across your cheek to catch the wetness still streaming down the corners of your eyes, “you have nothing to apologize about, okay?” 
He waits in the silence again, letting you softly nod your head in agreement, watching the gears turn in your head as you process everything that’s just happened. You’ve come to enough to notice the way his hand still sits on the small of your back- he’s just as surprised as you when you let him keep it there for another moment before subtly shifting back in your seat. 
Your face scrunches shut, wincing with the last few deep breaths you take, like you're trying to push the rest of it out of your system for good. Frankie runs his hand through his messy hair and down the nape of his neck as he takes you in, still riding his melancholy high of the weight of your body pressed into his. 
“Thank you. For um- just, t-thank you.” You mutter, too sheepish to look him in the eye again now that full blown embarrassment has set in. 
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” 
Frankie nods, trying his best to let you know that he means it- really, truly means it. It’s the way he won’t take his eyes off you that must let you know he understands, watching you shift just enough in your seat for him to notice how your body turns ever so slightly to face him. 
“They’ve uh- fuck, it just comes out of nowhere sometimes. It’s um- it’s happened before, but these past few weeks, it just- it’s been a lot, I guess.”  
“It’s been a while since I’ve had one, but I um- I got ‘em all the time after I came home. Feels like you’re dying. It sucks.” 
It’s not graceful, but it’s genuine. Vulnerable. Honest. Frankie knows it’s the most truth he’s given you in more years than he’d like to admit. It’s not much, but it’s enough to see you scale the top of the wall you’ve built between you and him and kick down one of the bricks that’s holding it together. It’s not much, but it’s one less brick than that wall has had for a very, very long time. 
“What are you talking about? That was so much fun.” 
In the shared moment of soft, sympathetic laughter, it’s that he realizes the softest smile that’s stretched in the corner of your lips. Frankie tries not to stare, but when he sees it, he remembers how much he’s hated living without it. He takes it in for as long as he can, memorizing every crease and crinkle in your face, no matter how subtle. He’ll soak in every second he can. He’s thankful he does, because it’s only a matter of time before it starts to shift, corners of your cheeks shifting as you pick at the skin around your nails. 
“I- um- I’m sorry- a-about what I said earlier.  I- I didn’t mean it.” 
Frankie lets out a huff of confusion, convinced you must be playing a joke on him with your unprompted apology. He’s almost tempted to laugh again, but the way your jaw shifts back and forth, anxiously grinding on your teeth while your eyes stay peeled to the fingers working away at your skin reminds him of every other apology you’ve ever offered. The same look when you accidentally popped the brand new basketball he got for his 13th birthday, the same fidgeting of your fingers when overreacted to the dent you thought he put in your brand new car backing out of your driveway, the same tick of your jaw when you had told him why you hadn’t written him more while he overseas on his last tour of duty. 
You really do mean it. 
“It’s okay. I deserve it.” Frankie admits. As hurtful as it was, he knows you weren’t completely unjustified in what you said. He also knows if you’re offering him an olive branch, he’ll offer you nothing short of a whole olive tree back. 
“No- well, I mean, maybe a little-” your sarcastic self correction makes him laugh again, something long forgotten warming in his heart at the way your hidden grin reappears in the corners of your cheeks, “No- I just- that was shitty of me to say. I’m sorry. It’s- it’s just a lot right now. Not totally fair to take it all out on you.” 
“I know. It’s okay.” Frankie pauses, captivated by the way your eyes flicker up to meet his, still wet and sparkling from the last of your tears, shimmering in the warm glow of the streetlights. He wants to reach out, to grab you, hold you, press you against his chest again and tell you that everything will be okay, but he won’t risk burning the bridge of the progress he’s built. Not yet. The best he can do is keep building, nail by nail, plank by plank. 
“If you um- if you ever need someone to- to talk to, or whatever, I’m always-” 
“I know.” 
There’s a different kind of silence that fills the empty spaces of his truck the last ten minutes of the ride home. It’s no longer heavy, burdened by pain and fear with every breath that enters its void. It’s the quiet kind of reassurance that doesn’t need any words. The kind that says everything it needs to from stolen glances back and forth, accompanied by the warmth of pink cheeks hidden in the black of the night sky. 
The last thing that’s said after he’s pulled into your driveway is a simple “thank you”. It’s only two words, but something about those 8 letters put together seems like enough to fill a book with how much it says. 
The only thing that says more is the way you look over your shoulder when you make it to your porch, so brief that if he wasn’t looking for it, he surely would have missed it. 
Because in that moment you look back at him, he swears there’s a smile straining against the line of your lips that you’re trying desperately to fight. 
Maybe he’s imagining it. Maybe he’s truly lost his mind. Maybe he’s crazy. Whatever he may be, Frankie Morales knows he won’t sleep a wink tonight at the thought that he’s finally the reason for the smile on your face again. 
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princessbrunette · 7 months ago
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as ironic as it sounds, being shy was not for the weak.
sure, there was the obvious things like finding it difficult to make friends, feeling like you might pass out any time you have to order your own food, feeling deathly embarrassed for just doing simple things like wearing a new item of clothing or using an umbrella. all of those things accumulated from an amalgamation of anxiety ridden experiences that kept you awake at night — but the worst thing you found about being incredibly shy, was being unable to stick up for yourself.
it’s not like you didn’t have things to say, lord knows if you weren’t shy you would have torn these girls to shreds. however, any time you wanted to say anything, it was like you were frozen. like an evil villain from a storybook had stolen your voice box and left you defenceless against a huddle of evil stepsisters. you were convinced the girls in your ballet class were born evil. never taught right from wrong whilst you were forced into the corner of each session hot in the face and trying your hardest to concentrate whilst they loudly comment on you like you weren’t there.
“you know pope heyward pays for her dance tuition because she’s a pogue.”
“seriously? i’d be too embarrassed to even show my face if someone else had to pay my tuition for me. it’s not even that expensive.”
“right? imagine being poor, can’t relate. my friend said she saw her stealing from sephora last week, it’s like people don’t have shame anymore.”
“no offence but she shouldn’t even be in here with us.”
the catty laughter that followed only added insult to injury, and it continued on this way for the rest of the two hour session you were stuck with them for. by the end, you were ready to just leave that place and never return. perhaps you could simply find a way to pay pope off and go back to whatever it was you were doing before you joined the dance school.
a flood of relief washes over you when you finally return to popes student apartment, using the key he’d offered you to let yourself in— body slumped from exhaustion and sore from carrying your bags. you could see on the forecast there was a fifty percent chance of going non verbal tonight, just to recover from the day you’d had.
for a second the negative thoughts slip away when the door opens and one third of your trio is stood there bouncing a football off the wall. jj maybank, one of your two lovers turns his head and beams at you — and you don’t realise you’re crumpling into a sob until you recognise the crease in his brow and the way his smile slides off his face as quickly as it arrived.
“hey? woah, uh— let’s close this door yeah sugar? lemme get these bags. why’re you crying? c’mon tell papa j.” he’s doing everything at once — closing the door behind you whilst catching your trembling body and removing your bags from your grip.
“can’t do it. can’t do it anymore.” you wail into his chest as he pats your back in disorientation. jj was never the best at this kind of thing, but he was learning. at the commotion, pope comes strutting into the hallway in his rich-boy cardigan and slacks and you can’t even look at him. he’s everything you’re not.
“jj, please don’t tell me you made her cry two steps into this damn apartment.” pope deadpans and jj’s eyes widen at the accusation.
“wh— dude it wasn’t me! she just… walked in and started crying.” his voice softens and he cradles the back of your head, watching the way popes demeanour falters and he furrows his eyebrows, stepping closer.
“hey… did something happen? we need to know.” pope tries to get through to you, but you wrap your arms around jjs neck, hiding yourself from the world. the academic boy sighs, before nodding his head to jj to gesture to bring you into the living room. “i’m… gonna make you some tea. okay?” you feel the gentle touch of his hand on your back before he departs, leaving jj to lovingly wrangle you to the couch.
before long, you’re nestled between the two with your knees to your chin, allowing yourself to be coddled by your boyfriends.
“and — and then they said i’m poor and they saw me stealing… said i shouldn’t even be in the same room as them.” you tremble, staring ahead as pope mops up your tears.
“those little prissy bit—”
“jj.” pope warns before turning to you. “look, please don’t listen to them pretty girl. you belong there just as much as anyone else. more— even.” he shakes his head with wide eyes.
“no they’re right. i feel like a fraud even existing in the same space as them.”
“you got the whole shoplifting thing under control anyway so what’s their deal?” jj stands up, restless as he rips his hat off, running a hand through his hair before beginning to spin his cap around his fingers.
“i should have been more careful.” you squeak and jj sighs, coming back to you to stroke a hand lovingly over your head.
“forget these stuck up kook assholes, okay? no offence pope.”
“none taken.”
he cups your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “you’re our little ballerina — and like, the best one i’ve ever seen. trust me, they’re mad ‘cus they’re jealous. i know that for a fact.”
“exactly. total case of jealousy.” pope chimes in, a hand resting on your lower back.
“so you’re not quittin’. you’re gonna go back to that studio tomorrow, with your head held high, and if you don’t tell them all to fuck off — i’ll come n’do it for you.” jj announces, loud and proud. you let a sniffly giggle slip, which relieves the two of them.
“jayj y’can’t do that.”
“okay — so i can’t come n’ tell them to fuck off but…” he leans in closer, suddenly dead serious. “i find out any of these chicks have brothers or boyfriends? they’re gonna have to answer to my glock. that should shake ‘em up.”
“yeah that’s smart. get kicked off campus.” pope sarks, the two of you knowing he would never actually do something like that — purely speaking out of emotion.
“for our girl? anything, dude.”
“okay well. more productively,” pope pats his thighs decisively before leaning forward to the coffee table and grabbing your mug of tea, placing it in your hands. “you’re gonna drink this, and then me and this thug are gonna make you feel all better. okay?” whilst you take a sip, pope presses a kiss to your forehead.
“feel better how?” you pout once you’d swallowed, holding your tea a little firmer as you feel jj drop carelessly into the seat beside you.
“i’m gonna massage out any aches and pains you may be experiencing from your dance class, and trust me i am well versed in the human body so i can really get in there.” pope explains, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you closer.
“mhm…” you encourage him to continue, already melting into the relaxation.
“and then, me and jj are gonna make you cum. a lot. many many times.” he states matter-of-factly, shooting a tingle through your body like he did each and every time he made a filthy promise like that. although you’re not looking at jj, you feel his hand raise in the air as he leans back on the couch.
“now that i can get behind.”
maybe you’d be okay after all.
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222col · 3 months ago
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coffee
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★ art donaldson x reader ★ inspired by 'coffee' by chappell roan ★ 0.6k ★ 18+ | cw: angst, adult themes
art: hey, long time no speak, wanna grab a drink?
you wish you could resist, wish you'd already blocked his number. you broke up nearly a year ago, you'd met him a few times since, and it always ends the same way. you crying, him comforting you all the way back to his apartment then kicking you out the next morning. it's a repetitive cycle, one that you're not strong enough to break.
you: coffee?
coffee is safer, if you drink, you know where it leads. nowhere else is safe. you hate that you're stuck in his grip, unable to escape the delusions that fill your mind the second those blonde locks appear in front of you.
art: meet me at the jazz bar, 7pm? the one on mary ann street
ignored, your requests, your pleadings, always ignored. he knows you like the back of his hand, knows you can't resist him. he's already there when you arrive, a couple drinks in. a glass of wine waiting for you on the table accompanied by the flirty smile on his face. "hey sweet girl." you drink and catch up and tell each other lies. "i want you, come home to me." art pleads, after his fourth glass of wine. if you didn't still love him, still trust him and his intentions, you'd be fine. you wouldn't end up back at his apartment again. but you do, so your hand links through his as you walk back to his place.
"my girl, my perfect girl." you can smell the wine of his breath as he pushes you through the door of his apartment. the pictures of you are gone. you're kissing your way to the bedroom, he's got new sheets. you don't exist here anymore, you're not a part of his new life. he's moved on, well moved on enough to remove you from his home. there isn't a piece of you left here. you're almost crying into the kiss as art pushes you onto the mattress.
you: hey, wanna grab dinner?
you'll never know what kind of magic spell this boy has over you, one that makes you drop all your morals and defence mechanisms to run to him.
art: let's do the park, meet you there at sunset
the text shows any ideas of a normal conversation flying out the window. but you'd rather feel something, than nothing at all. you meet him at your favourite tree, tasting the alcohol on his tongue as his mouth crashes into yours. always excusing his behaviour, telling yourself he loves you. feeding your delusions, at least he wants to see you, feel you, taste you. "i'm sorry baby, don't cry, want you." he whispers into your ear, as his hand slips into your jeans.
art: let's grab coffee?
art was your reason to live, to cry, to love. but it wasn't healthy, you knew it and he abused it. knew he could get anything he wanted from you, knew you'd do anything he asked of you. the memories come flooding back. sat in front of him on the couch as he plaits your hair, dancing the night away at bars, watching him on the courts. looking up the tennis channel on tv, seeing art's face plastered over the screen. those curly blonde hairs, that you used to wash the shampoo out of. those big blue eyes, that used to tell you they loved you. those little dimples you used to kiss every time he got shy when you complimented him. art taught you how to love, how to care. a single tear dropping onto the phone as you text him back.
you: it's better if we don't try, it's never just coffee
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zapreportsblog · 1 year ago
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Baby Come Back
➥ summary: miles misses his girl even though he won’t admit to to himself or anyone else, but when he sees her starting to move on without him, naw that settles it. It’s time to win his baby girl back
➥ a/n: this was inspired by @laaailuh fic “I Miss You”
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The tension in the air was palpable as Miles Morales, also known as the Prowler, and his girlfriend (y/n) stood face to face in his small apartment. Their voices were raised, and emotions ran high, as they found themselves entangled in a heated argument.
"I can't do this anymore, Miles!" (y/n) exclaimed, her eyes filled with frustration and hurt. "You've been distant, shutting me out, and taking your anger out on me. It's not fair!"
Miles clenched his fists, trying to find the right words to express the turmoil inside him. "I know I've been a mess since my dad died," he admitted, his voice tinged with sorrow. "But I'm trying to deal with it in my own way."
(y/n) took a step back, her heart heavy with the weight of his words. "I understand that you're going through a lot, but you can't just push me away and expect me to stick around," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "I need to be with someone who can share their pain with me, not shut me out."
Miles felt a surge of guilt wash over him, knowing that he had been unfair to (y/n). He loved her deeply, but the darkness of his grief had consumed him, making it difficult for him to see beyond his own pain.
"I don't want to lose you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. "I need you, (y/n). Please, don't leave."
(y/n)'s eyes welled up with tears, torn between her love for Miles and the toll his emotional distance was taking on her. "I love you too, Miles, but I can't keep being hurt like this," she said, her voice choked with sadness. "You need to confront your grief and find a way to heal, for both of us."
As the words hung in the air, the weight of their unresolved issues seemed to crush them both. (y/n) turned away, unable to bear the pain in Miles' eyes, while he struggled to find the strength to let her go.
In the following days, the silence between them grew heavy and suffocating. They tried to carry on with their lives separately, but their hearts longed for the comfort and love they once shared.
One evening, as the sun set over the city, (y/n) made her decision. She couldn't keep waiting for Miles to heal on his own. She knew that it was time to face the truth and let go, even if it broke her heart.
She went to Miles' apartment, her footsteps echoing with each heavy step. The door opened, and Miles stood before her, his eyes red and swollen, a reflection of the pain he carried.
"I can't keep pretending that everything is okay," (y/n) said softly, her voice wavering. "I need to put myself first, and that means letting go."
Tears streamed down Miles' cheeks as he nodded, his heart aching with the weight of their decision. "I don't want to lose you, but I know I've been pushing you away," he said, his voice choked with regret. "I'm so sorry for hurting you."
They stood there, facing each other, knowing that their love wasn't enough to mend the broken pieces of their hearts. Their bond had been strong, but the weight of grief had shattered it.
With one last embrace, (y/n) turned away, her heart breaking as she walked away from the man she loved. The tears flowed freely as she left behind the life they once shared, but she knew that it was the right decision for both of them.
In the days that followed, the void left by their breakup was a constant reminder of the love they had lost. Miles faced his grief head-on, seeking counseling and support from friends and family, determined to find a way to heal.
And though they had parted ways, the memories of their love lingered in the corners of their hearts. The road ahead was uncertain, but they both knew that their journey towards healing had only just begun.
•••
In the days that followed the breakup, Miles Morales, also known as the Prowler, became even more withdrawn and closed off. The pain of losing (y/n) weighed heavily on his heart, and he found solace in isolating himself from his friends and emotions. He had always been good at hiding his feelings behind the mask of the prowler, but now it seemed like he was hiding from himself too.
At school, Miles tried to maintain a façade of indifference, a mask that he wore to shield himself from the questions and concerns of his friends. As he walked through the halls, he could feel the worried glances of his classmates, but he pretended not to notice.
During lunchtime, others approached him cautiously, their concern evident in their expressions. "Hey, Miles, are you doing okay?" Stu asked, his voice soft and caring.
He shrugged nonchalantly, trying to deflect their worries. "Yeah, I'm good," he replied with a forced smile. "It just didn't work out with (y/n), you know? It's whatever."
Stu exchanged a concerned glance with Anthony, realizing that Miles was trying to hide his pain. "You sure, man? We're here for you if you need to talk," he said gently.
Miles nodded, but he couldn't bring himself to share the turmoil inside him. "I appreciate it, but I'm fine," he insisted, avoiding eye contact with his friends. "I've got other stuff to focus on."
Just then the bell rang signaling that it was time for class.
As Miles sat in his classroom, his mind preoccupied with his own thoughts and emotions, he couldn't help but notice that (y/n) was just a few seats ahead of him. His heart clenched as he saw someone pass her a note discreetly.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the exchange. He could feel a pang of jealousy stirring within him, a reminder of the connection they once shared.
Trying to focus on the lesson, he fought the urge to look again. But as the minutes ticked by, his mind kept wandering back to the note. He couldn't shake the feeling of being left out, of no longer being a part of her life.
When the class finally ended, Miles gathered his belongings, but his feet felt heavy as he made his way towards the exit. He knew he should be moving on, but seeing (y/n) with someone else reminded him of what he had lost.
As he walked past her, he couldn't help but glance in her direction. Their eyes met briefly, and a mix of emotions washed over him. He wanted to say something, to reach out to her, but his pride held him back.
In the bustling school hallway, Miles mustered the courage to call out to (y/n) as she was making her way to her next class. "Hey, (y/n)!" he said, his voice a mix of nervousness and hope.
She turned around, surprised to see him, but she managed a polite smile. "Hey, Miles. What's up?" she asked, her guard up, unsure of what he wanted to talk about.
"I was wondering if we could meet up after school," he said, his eyes earnest. "There's something I really need to talk to you about."
(y/n) hesitated, her heart still guarded, but she knew that avoiding the conversation wouldn't resolve anything. "Miles, I don't think there's a need for us to talk," she replied, her voice measured. "It's all been said, hasn't it?"
Miles took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words he wanted to say. "Please, cariño" he implored, "I just need a chance to explain and apologize. There's so much I want to say, and I can't keep pretending like everything's okay."
Her resolve softened as she saw the sincerity in his eyes. With a small sigh, she relented. "Okay, fine," she said, "but just this once, and only because I think we both deserve some closure."
•••
After school, they met at a nearby park, finding a quiet bench to sit on. The air between them was tense, but there was an unspoken understanding that they needed to have this conversation.
Miles began, his words slow and heartfelt. "I'm sorry,cariño, for shutting you out and being distant," he said, his voice tinged with remorse. "I've been dealing with so much since my dad's passing, and I didn't know how to handle it. But that's not an excuse for treating you the way I did."
She listened attentively, the wall around her heart slowly starting to crumble. "I know it was hard for you," she said softly, "but it was hard for me too. I felt like you pushed me away, and it hurt."
"I know, and I'm sorry," Miles replied, his gaze downcast. "I never meant to hurt you, (y/n). I just... I didn't know how to handle my emotions, and I thought if I pushed you away, it would protect you from my pain."
Her heart softened as she saw the vulnerability in his eyes. "You don't have to protect me, Miles," she said gently. "I wanted to be there for you, to help you through your grief."
He reached out and took her hand, his grip gentle yet pleading. "I wish I had let you in," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I wish I had talked to you about everything, instead of shutting you out."
Silence settled between them, the weight of their emotions palpable. (y/n) finally spoke, her voice tinged with sadness. "I miss you too, mi amor," she admitted, her eyes welling up with tears. "I miss us, but I don't know if we can go back to how things were."
Miles nodded, understanding the complexity of their situation. "I don't expect things to go back to normal right away," he said. "I just hope that we can find a way to move forward, even if it's not together."
Her heart ached, torn between the love she still felt for him and the uncertainty of their future. "I need time to heal too," she said softly. "But I'm willing to listen if you want to talk."
And so, beneath the setting sun, they started to open up to each other, their words filled with both pain and hope. As they talked, they realized that they needed to be honest about their feelings, even if it meant facing the difficult truths they had been avoiding.
Their conversation was raw and emotional, but it was a start. A start towards healing, towards understanding, and towards finding closure. Whether their paths would converge again or lead in different directions, they both knew that they had grown from their experiences and that they would always cherish the love they once shared.
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pyxxiestyxx · 2 months ago
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Storm
RRRRRRrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRUMMMMMMMM
She squeezed her eyes shut as another rolling wave of thunder seemed to shake the house, only unclenching her fists after it passed. Her breathing remained in its elevated state, though. She had given up on trying to control it about half an hour ago, when the power had flickered slightly and sent her brain into a panicked frenzy.
RrrrrrrRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOM CR-R-R-RACK
She blanked out for a minute, only coming to her senses when she was safely squeezed under her bed, clutching the necklace tightly enough to cut into her hand. The light on it was flashing, so she must have pressed it at some point. She remembered what the Affini had said when it was handed to her.
"If you ever need me, press the gem in the center, and I will be there for you."
She stared at it now, the little details in the metal quickly running red as she continued to hold it. If she had been more clear headed, she would have scolded her present self for giving in so easily, for letting someone else take care of her own damn problems. All she had to do was fucking relax, but she couldn't even do that right and she was such a fucking coward, such a complete and utter failure. She acted tough, had scoffed and told the affini to fuck of, but the plant had insisted she take the necklace with her anyway, just in case. The Terran had promised herself not to ever use it, had told herself to woman up and show how she didn't need anything from anyone anymore.
But all she could do was tremble and whimper at the noise, the terrible noise. It was so Loud, too Loud, too big and painful and it reminded her of memories that hurt to open and she couldn't relax-
"Petal?"
A near-silent gasp squeaked out of her throat as her door opened, and the affini stepped into the room. The sight of her didn't fill her with dread like normal; she was far too too into anxiety to have anything but sweet relief. The affini looked around for her, then seemed to sniff the air a few times, a look of concern flashing across its face as she doubtless smelled her injury hanging heavy in the air. The plant stooped low, unfurling itself and wriggling around and above the terran in a way that isolated her nearly completely. Tthe next crash of thunder didn't remind her of weaponsfire so much as a distant drum, far and farther away with each second.
"I'm here now, little one. I'm right here, and I have you.". Her voice was sweet, like a violin the Terran had heard someone play once. She shook in the affini's grasp, unable to say or do anything, keeping her eyes fixed on the necklace. Vines wrapped around her hand, and something was injected into her wrist that made the muscles in her fingers relax their deathlike grip. The affini carefully pulled the necklace from her, wiped it with something, and then carefully placed it back around the terran's neck. She hummed as she worked on the hand next, tending to it carefully, each movement precise.
"There we go. All better, though we'll get a Vet to look at that later to make sure. Once the storm passes, anyway. How are you doing, dear?"
Her voice finally forced itself through the block in her throat, rattling her as it flooded out in wretched sobs. "I ….I….im…i-it, I'm hic I'm not….I'm sc…scared an I don know what to do and I…I'm hic my therapist, he said to breathe and I c-c-cant and-"
"Shhhhhh shhhhh shhhh….it's alright, remember? I'm right here now. We don't have to worry about the past or the future, okay? You and I can just enjoy the present." Her words washed over the terran, a comforting blanket that filled in any cracks the vines did not until all the Terran could do was relax.
The affini hugged the Terran close, watching as the class Z she had mixed into the injection finally take hold. The poor thing needed it. She squeezed the little one closer, making her a silent promise to never let her go through that alone again.
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shuenkio · 7 months ago
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Break 💔 up ? | OT7
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Paring: Enha x male!reader
Genre: soft angst, fluff, crack, obsessed
Cw: nothing or?
Summary: You want to break up with them but-
Non proof read ×
Crd to all pics&dividers
Lack of perfect words.
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Lhs: The moment you said, you wanted to break up with him, he went silent. Instead of speaking, he closes the distance between you into a small gap, eye piercing sharply at you before pinning you against the wall.
"You can't break up with me without any reason mn, now tell me is there something behind it?" His gaze went dark, as he looked at you like you were just committing a crime.
"I— I can't handle you anymore you're just too possessive I wanna take a break," you said, with sweat soaking your forehead and dripping down to your cheeks. You should be brave to make this decision for your good but why did you suddenly feel so numb like this?
"Sit on my lap, it's not my fault you're drop-dead gorgeous, not only you feel better but also pleasure" He smirked, cupping both of your cheeks, pressed his lip against you let the tension take a turn.
"Try to leave me again, I'll make sure you won't find anyone who could make you feel like I do!"
Pjs: The man would be speechless on the spot after you said you wanted to break up with him. What's not good enough about him? He's overthinking if he doing something wrong, something is not right for you but as he dips down into his mind, he can't seem to find any clue what's wrong with himself. Having no answer, He uttered with his shaky voice, asked you why.
"I fall out of love I don't feel the same way as before Jay, I don't know what to do besides this decision" Your tears begin to break down, shattered from your eyes as they pour every drop into the floor. Jay saw you break down, his heart broken into pieces as he immediately went to pull you into his tight embrace. Let you pour out all of your sadness in his chest.
"There's always a solution, I know it's not right to force you to be still in our relationship but— please give me a chance I swear I'll make everything even better for us"
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Sjy: Not only did tears appear on his face, but he would also drop down to his knee buried his face in his palm after you said it was not a joke. You thought he would just be unable to speak however seeing him being like this, stunned you. You want to comfort him, telling the truth why you want to path away from him. But your mind went blank at the moment, you feel like he's not the only one who's hurting, and seeing him shattered makes you want to swallow all your words back. You lean down slowly to his level and press a gentle kiss on his forehead before wrapping your hand around his.
"I'm sorry I'm sorry" you whisper to his ear. He responds with his hands wrapped over your small waist, snuggling his face on the crooked of your neck.
"Don't leave me!! Please don't I just can't let you go"
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Psh: At first, he would give you a silent treatment. He looks down at his feet, holding back his tears, stopping his rushing emotion. He leaves you alone without any words, not even asking why you want to break up with him, not even a simple "why"
You let out a heavy sigh, regret at what you've just done but nothing crosses your mind to stop him from leaving, you feel a part of you think, he deserves someone better than you, who's prettier, more socialized, and talkative than you. You also thought that two introverts in a relationship would be nothing other than Boring.
Late at night after everything had happened, someone came banging at your door very loudly. You went to open up and revealed a friend of Sunghoon holding him, he was wasted at the sight, which make you feel a ping of guilt washing over you.
You take Sunghoon in, still acting as a couple, before saying goodbye and thanks his friends for taking him home. You put him down on the couch gently, take off his shoe and jacket tuck it to the side.
His face is reddened, and tipsy, probably from all the alcohol he's pouring down to his throat because of you. You slowly pressed your hand on his face, carelessly on it softly. Cupping his cheeks your tears break down without you even notice.
Suddenly, he grabbed your wrist pull you down on the couch with him, holding you close to his chest. His hot breath hit your forehead, sending a shiver down your spine with a mix of sadness and nostalgia. His warmness, his hug, and his sweet gesture toward you can't seem to leave your mind. As you regret breaking up with him for your stupid reason this morning.
"Don't speak... We'll never break up and never will, I know what's on your mind mn, you're perfect to me I love you"
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Ksn: Your words feel too unreal for him to take. He would question you again and again with his forcing smile, holding onto your hand tight, you then explained why you wanted to break up. He instantly becomes a cry river, he'll cry while smiling like a manic at some point because everything just feels right from the beginning but now you want a break it's like he had been fooled by you.
His face went swollen red from all the crying and sobbing, he didn't want to let you go this easily, after all the memories both you made together. Never, he'll do anything in his power to keep you beside him, which he's turning into his new side that you've never known before.
"Being the sweetest is not enough for you mn? Then you shall see my other side, I promise you'll never leave me again! Hm?" He hums under his breath, with an unexpectedly stern deep voice. As your body goosebumps, gulping down back your saliva unable to make a sound.
"I- I'm sorry I... Don't know anymore"
"I'll take care of it, if you get bored of my playful side, I'll show you my new side, promise to don't break up with me again alright? I'm drowning in you already!"
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Yjw: He rarely cries. Even after you said you wanted to break up with him, He eventually left you alone, keeping you hanging without an answer. You try and try to give him a reasonable explanation, but in return he just stares at you emotionless, buying you unnecessary gifts, and gives you free kisses & hugs out of the blue. As a result, you gave up and just accepted your fate, even though your break-up reason is kinda silly.
On one fine day, you decide to play it harder, so maybe he'll open his ear to listen to you, by threatening him that, if he continues to ignore you, you'll leave the place.
"Try another step baby boy! I bet you'd crawl back to me again~"
And—
"I do that on purpose mn so that you won't break up with me, yoi love me, I love yoi, and we're in love why should we break up?"
And he knows all along, you just want to break up with him because he forgot your birthday, and he's ignored you because he knows he's wrong and couldn't apologize probably.
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Nsr: He didn't react to your words, everything that you just said was not serious for him. Similar to Jungwon, he's nonchalant. He shrugged it off, just doing his daily routine normally as if his relationship with you was about to tear apart. And that's also one of the reasons you wanted to break up with him, you can't keep up with his attitude and behavior. Someday he's sweet, someday he's dry he's like a robot.
However, you and him still living together, in your shared apartment. One day when he's about to go to work, usually he would press a goodbye kiss on your cheeks before moving forward. Today was different, after he placed a kiss on your cheeks, you wiped it away aggressively, not enjoying his sweet gesture anymore, which made him turn his head toward you slowly, in a way that made you feel something bad was going to happen, nevertheless, his gaze remains the same.
"Did you just wipe my kiss off?"
"So? I said I wanted to break up with you, why are you acting like I just spit nonsense thing?"
"There's no reason for you to leave me, you'll need me anyway I'm doing your work myself"
"I'm so tired of you!! We're breaking up no matter what!"
"Try it, lol you can't even go a day without my presence, now go to sleep if you're tired of me"
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🗣️ please mind my English! ><
🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥
🗣️ I did not realize that I write Sunghoon longer than the other 🫣
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theroseredreaper · 6 months ago
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The Sea Calls Me Home
Twisted Wonderland
You are a witch who lives on the beach of a seaside village. You've always done all you could for the people of the village who gave you a home after you washed up on their shores ten years ago. This season should be no different.
Word Count: 5,037 ✯ AO3 Version
Character(s): Azul Ashengrotto x Reader
Tags: Gender Neutral Reader, Can Be Read As Platonic or Romantic (it's up to reader interpretation), Mild Horror Elements, Unedited
Inspired by this writing prompt list and my friend Ames's writing.
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“I wish to go back. I want to forget everything.”
Cool gray eyes stared back into yours as you fought to keep your focus intact in the smoky haze of the cave you found yourself in. How did you get here, again? The thoughts were languidly coiling in your mind, unable to fully form, teasing you to distraction.
“Can you afford the price of ignorance?”
The sharp command of that voice snapped up your attention back to the present, the dampness of the cave a cool balm on your feverish skin, body shaking from the wild magic choking you. The very air was saturated with it and your body was rejecting it. Your focus lapsed against a tide of nausea that rolled over you. A hand touched your cheek, the brush of fingertips a whisper of relief as your eyes opened again. You couldn’t make out his face anymore in the haze that seemed to thicken the longer you stared in search of his eyes. You had to close your eyes again to hold onto the clarity he had returned to you; your voice cracked against the last dregs of your consciousness.
“I’ve more than paid all that you’ve ever asked of me.”
Townhall was always sweltering whenever you’d enter at the request of the villagers to come in for a meal, a welcome change from the wet cold that clung to every stone and building in the village you’d come to call home ten years ago. Cheers welcomed you as you waved a greeting to everyone, who used the town hall as both the place for hearings and gatherings of meals, a communal space where everyone endured against the storms that plagued this seaside village year round.
“Come, sit!”
“Take this coat, warm yourself, dear!”
“You’ve yet to eat, haven’t you? Here, take your portion!”
Laughing and exchanging greetings with the faces you’d come to know these past ten years, you sat among them, the bowl of oats and eggs warming your frigid fingers as their boisterous chatter warmed your heart. Resources in this village were always short, the land poorly suited to farming, while the mercurial shores made the primary way of life - fishing - difficult to maintain. Despite all this, the people of this village were always joyous. They did not shy from their hard life, they always shared as if they were as rich as the people of the plains. Among the round, smiling faces, it was easy to take note of the utter lack of children. Given that winter had begun to grip the village, it was not usual for the children to begin staying at home, yet there were no children present at all.
“How’re the children?” you asked the man next to you, who looked up at you with a smile sweetened with indolence.
He scoffed, shaking his head. “You need not worry about them, witch. Your miracle cures always work.”
“You’ve not done us wrong yet,” his wife, on his other side, giggled. They were just as the day you’d met them, bronzed by a life of fishing, hair grayed by hard labor. Their children came to them late in life, but they always were industrious, eager to help their parents.
“The potion hasn’t taken yet?”
If this was true, then it would be quite worrying indeed. It’d already been a week and a half since you made it for them, assured of its efficacy. You were no doctor, not by any means, but you knew the way of the land and sea enough to ask of nature how to spell together ways of healing to aid the body back to health. But the villagers tittered at you to not concern yourself.
“Please, you know how easy I worry over all of you. You all took me in when I washed up on your shore, gave me a home when I had none. I won’t be able to relax until I know how the children are doing. I don’t want to see any of them die.”
They hushed you quickly.
“Don’t speak such ill omens!” the fisherman’s wife's sweet voice squealed with humor. “We’ve endured no hardship since you came to our shores, don’t jinx it, dear witch!”
The other villagers laughed in agreement. Your lips pursed, your bowl of food cold and unappetizing now. Their positive outlook despite their dreary livelihoods endeared you most days, but when it came to serious issues like this, it truly irked you. Whenever they needed your help, they had become more trusting in your ability to seemingly wipe away all worries with a sweep of your hand over the years, to the point where you seemed to sit apart from them.
“My spellwork is only what any human can ask of the land and sea. I’m no fae or spirit. Please, won’t you tell me if the potion has taken?” But the crowd only laughed off your concerns, at ease and indolent from the warmth of the hearth and meal before them, assured that your potion would work just like every miracle you’d brought them before. You’d get no answer on the health of the children of the village from them.
Sighing, you took your leave to the raucous farewells of the villagers, a sharp shout of a brawl breaking out over your leftovers as you stepped back into the wet chill of the morning air. It gladdened you that even with the scarcity that winter would surely bring and the disease that was coming for each child, that the villagers were plump and without want for good clothes or good food. Still…the lack of concern grated at you. Of course, you’d never know their inner thoughts. Perhaps it was their way of hiding their stress and woes. But you wouldn’t be truly able to know how the children were doing unless you could see it for yourself.
You’d be unable to enter any homes to investigate without express invitation - it was only polite, after all - so you’d have to seek out the only people in this village who were always honest with you about the state of things. They’d come to this village at the same time as you, but had remained aloof from the rest of the village, which suited the other villagers just fine.
Petrichor and rotting sea gross stung at your nose as you followed the road from the town hall to the fringes of the village along the far side of the rocky cliffs that face the sea, over the cave system that snaked underneath the whole of the neighborhood. The wind coming in from the sea whipped and nipped at you, turning your fingers numb with cold even as you shoved them into the threadbare coat you’d been given that morning. It was hard to make out their forms against the near constant gloom of the gray sky and pale sunlight, but the twins who’d come to regard you fondly were fishing off the edge of the cliff, as they usually were every morning.
“Oh? I was wondering when you’d visit,” one twin grinned while the other jumped up to greet you, his fishing pole abandoned, “Shrimpy, you came by!”
You waved with a smile as you approached, unphased as Floyd ran over to scoop you up into a bruising hug, “Hello Jade, Floyd. How’s the catch this morning?”
“The same as always,” Jade dismissed, setting aside his things to pick up Floyd’s abandoned pole and tackle. “What questions do you have for us today?”
Floyd pouted, squishing your face against his chest as you limply let him hug you. It was usually best to just let him out of his system first. “Shrimpy could’ve visited us just to see us, Jade.”
“I actually did have questions,” you interjected quickly, wary of one of Floyd’s mood swings. “But we can have dinner together today, Floyd.”
He sulked, but put you down, somewhat mollified. “You’re worried about the guppies of the village, aren’t you?”
“You’ve always had a bleeding heart,” Jade mused, shaking his head. “Your potion hasn’t taken, it seems.”
You shrugged. “The villagers seem to think that I’m something of a miracle worker now.”
“They’d be worshiping Azul instead if they knew how much you went to him for his cures,” Floyd laughed, only to be cut off by Jade harshly elbowing him in the rib. “Sorry, Shrimpy. I know you just ask him to teach you stuff. Still, it’s weird.”
“Indeed. Azul is knowledgeable; it is odd that the potion hasn’t taken. There’s yet to be an ailment he doesn’t know a cure for yet.”
You swallowed down another sigh.
Azul the sea witch…
He was an enigmatic mer of the sea who’d been introduced to you by the twins one fateful night ten years ago, during your first winter in this village.
Once a deal was struck with him…
It was difficult to not seek out another one from him.
“Will you just tell me how the children are doing? Have any died?”
They shook their heads, relieving some of the tension from your shoulders. A roll of thunder had the three of you looking to the sky, which had begun to darken.
“They’re the same as when you first saw them,” Floyd turned to you with a frown, his golden eye seemingly to glow in the dimming day.
“None have been taken yet. Your potion has halted whatever haunts them. But it has not cured them,” Jade continued, his golden eye flaring brighter than Floyd’s.
You nodded, used to their matter of fact answers. You’d learned not to ask how they got these answers without ever leaving their hut ten years ago.
“He’ll arrive soon,” they said as one.
It was your cue to leave the way you’d come, following the cliffs down to the beach you had come to call home.
The horizon promised a storm the likes of which would continue to swallow the sky whole and flood the tide caves that were under the cliffs of the coast. The beach was always a disgusting thing to behold on the eve of a storm. Bleached coral, jagged and sharp, would dot the shoreline like spit-up bones, the rust of sediment thrown up by the tide always stained the sand like blood. Here, between the advent of a storm and the rejection of the sea, was the best time to harvest materials from the sea for spells and magic.
It was also the only time one would be able to exchange with the sea witch when he came to shore.
Despite having dealt with him since you’d arrived on this same shore ten years ago, shipwrecked and with no memory save your name and how to bargain a spell from the spoils of the sea and land, Azul was as unchanged as the ebb and flow of the tide itself. His skin was ashen, his tentacles a writhing mass that spoke of the abyssal depths he usually resided in, his hair neatly coiffed despite the waters he rose out of to offer his bargains.
“How quick you are to sell yourself for those who would sell you for half a loaf of bread,” he sighed in lieu of a greeting, towering over you as his tentacles pushed him up from the sea before he stepped down in front of you one human foot at a time, into the form of the bespectacled gentleman he always took when coming ashore. “Have you not heard of the tale of the fool who gave and gave until nothing of him was left? It’s been less than a week since you asked me to check over your potion.”
“You’re so cynical, yet you never decline a deal with me. Hypocrite, much?”
He scoffed, shaking his head at you. “It’s natural for a business man to weigh his risks against his potential profit. If you’re not in good condition, how am I to exact a price from you?”
You giggled as he walked away, already familiar with the path up the beach to the cottage the villagers had given you on the outskirts of the village proper. Despite the threat of the sea swallowing the ramshackle thing whole with the frequent storms that plagued the village, never once had it ever occurred to you to move residence, despite a certain sea witch’s snide remarks over the years. You would be loath to be away from the sea, and there was no home that could possibly be closer to the sea than your cottage upon the beach.
“So? What is the issue plaguing your helpless villagers this time? A charm for their nets for the season? A spell for the hearths to catch flame against damp wood? Grain for the winter?”
He looked about the single room of your home impatiently as he asked, scowling at the empty fireplace in the kitchen. It had gone out when you’d left that morning, the old window liable to drafts. The lumber in it caught fire with a single glare from him before he sat at the sad excuse of a dining table, nodding in satisfaction. You hid your smile behind the busyness of preparing tea for him, though it was really nothing more than some mint leaves and honey in tepid water.
“Medicine this time, actually. The potion I’d ask for your consultation on was for -”
“The villagers, I know,” he interrupted. “I’d gathered as much. It’s always for others, never for yourself, with you.”
You laughed, serving him the ‘tea.’ He took a long draw of it, setting it down with a huff, eyes lingering on every chip and fracture line of the cup. They mended themselves with a quiet slosh of liquid.
“The children have caught something that the potion isn’t helping. Floyd and Jade said that it’s halted whatever it is, but…it seems the children are in a stasis or sorts, it seems. None have died, thankfully. And I would like to keep it that way.”
He nodded slowly, summoning a style of fish bone as you brought out the paper you kept specifically for the deals you made with Azul. “Yes, let’s. I’ve no love for those villagers you care for so much, but the children hold no blame here. Describe the illness to me. Then we’ll see if I can grant what you ask of me.”
So you did, listing the symptoms as they had appeared nearly a month ago now.
Each symptom appeared three days apart.
The first sign was a loss of the legs. Useless and weak, the child would become bound to their bed.
The second sign was a hallowing of the body, until the child was little more than skin and bones. They lost weight and muscle mass in a matter of hours, despite no fluids being expelled from the body, in spite of any meals or medicines given to the child.
That was when you’d begun brewing your potion to give to the children, having dealt with a similar such plague harming the village some winters before, though the rapidity of the symptoms were starkly different from what had happened in the past.
Then three days later, the day you’d been able to administer the potion after consulting Azul on the efficacy of your potion, came the latest symptom in the children you were too slow to reach.
A loss of vivacity, a stillness of the chest and breath, eyes utterly dim and vacant; as if the child had drowned. Dead in all but reality.
Azul’s stylus paused from his note taking as you described the latest of the symptoms, inks pooling onto the paper and blotting out his neat, looping script.
“The price of this is too high for you to pay.”
You didn’t blink an eye.
“You know this disease.”
It wasn’t so much a question as it was a demand of Azul to honor your ten years of bargains to answer you.
The fire in the hearth flared bright and wide, stray sparks freckling your cheeks, kissing them with sharp burns. You sat unmoved. The fire shrunk back when Azul noticed the ash that fell from your skin.
“I’m not teaching you the cure for it. Wash yourself of this situation.”
“What happened to the innocence of the children? I can take the cost of you healing them in my stead.”
The fire roared long enough for the edge of your window curtain to catch flame before it snuffed itself abruptly with a hiss, in time with Azul pinching the bridge of his nose under his glasses.
“You cannot afford even that,” he hissed out from behind clenched teeth. “Must I spell it out for you? What a cost this high even means? This disease is inhuman. It is dark. Do not involve yourself in it.”
“Can’t I? You’re clever about your loopholes, Azul. Won’t you make one for me?”
He glared, standing and flicking away the stylus with a wave of his hand, the thing disappearing back to where it came in a cloud of ash, right along with the paper he’d been taking notes on.
“I’m not making this deal with you.”
Your brow twitched. “What? What do you mean you won’t? The children - “
He looked down at you, sighing out your name almost apologetically, the command effective immediately as you found yourself shackled to your chair indignantly.
“Azul!”
“Hush.” Your mouth clamped shut and you squealed your ire at him as he looked at you with pity. “You really are a bleeding heart. Know that I take no joy in the harm of children; I am an opportunist, not a monster. I will not make this deal with you. Nor will you make such a deal with any other. You will leave the humans be. If the children are not well another week from now...then I will come to shore for you. But you will leave the humans be.”
You’d be struggling in your seat against his command, but his order shocked you into stilled silence. After these ten years of knowing you, never once had he ever used your name against you like, not once, and now he used it against you in the cruelest way you could have ever imagined.
“Too sweet, you are,” he murmured, hardly able to meet your betrayed gaze. He glanced at the hearth, the flames gently leaping to life again, before turning to the door and stepping out with a look back. In a flash of lightning, he was gone, back into the sea from whence he came.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
The next seven days consisted of your anxious pacing along the shoreline, unable to enter the village proper, or even trek up the coastline to visit the twins and ask after the health of the children. You knew none of the villagers would come to see you, none of them ever entered your little beach, not once these past ten years. You wouldn’t be able to ask them anything because of Azul anyways, but it still disheartened you that no one even looked your way as you paced the shore, alternating between cursing at the sea and busying yourself with collecting the things that washed up on shore for spells that you could sell. You supposed it was just business as usual, for the villagers to not even check up on you, since you would disappear into your home for days at a time to work on the magic you used to help them each season.
The anxiety over the fate of the children was getting to you.
The minute Azul’s command lost hold on you on the dawn of the eighth day, you all but sprinted into town, anxiety practically choking you as you asked each villager how their children were fairing. Again, as they had the week before, they’d laughed and waved off your worries. Each villager you asked, the same lack of concern. Until you reached Ms. Spade, the widower who always made sure you had your own supply of grain and linens each winter before she went to visit her mother in the mainland with her son Deuce for the season.
She called out your name in relief upon seeing you, grasping your hands with such a grip that your joints ached. “I haven’t seen you in days! What happened?”
“I wasn’t able to leave my home,” you grimaced, “How is Deuce? Is he still okay?”
Ms. Spade’s sober expression was all the answer you needed.
“We were sure it wasn’t contagious, helping the Clovers care for their youngest alongside Trey, but three days ago, both Trey and Deuce lost the use of their legs. It won’t be long now before both of them…”
You squeezed her hands in turn as her voice cracked before reaching into your pockets to produce more of the potion you’d made before, pushing them into your hands. “This is what I gave the other children. It didn’t cure the other children, but it did halt the symptoms.”
She pulled you into a brief, fierce hug before bolting off in the direction of the Clover household, her speed enough to rival her own son. Exhaling slowly to calm your racing heart, you observed the village to gauge the moods of the people around you. The majority of the villagers were indolent and smiling, but after speaking with Ms. Spade, you began to notice the wary faces of some haunting the shadows of their doorways, looking on in contempt and weary compliance.
Thunder rolled in the distance.
“You’re back in town. I thought Azul would have commanded your banishment to be longer.”
You whirled around to find Jade carrying a cooler of his morning’s catch, observing you and your nerves. Floyd was nowhere to be seen, as was to be expected. He did not enter the village proper if he could help it, always preferring to be by the sea, much like you.
“The children.”
“Still in stasis,” he reassured, pausing as his gold eye flared briefly in a glow. Something about its glow nagged at a memory that would not catch in your mind. “None have died. More have fallen ill, though. It will not be long before all of them are affected.”
You sucked in a sharp breath, Jade’s arm shooting out to steady you as you wobbled at the news, a hot wash of anger towards Azul blinding you.
“Is the storm close enough for me to see him?” you managed to spit out, clinging to his arm as he steadied you. His concerned silence had you looking up at him, eyes narrowing. “You and Floyd know more about this disease than you let on.”
“Not anymore than you did, until Azul told us. It was after he’d visited you.”
You gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling him in until you were nose to nose, your voice rough with rage, “Tell me. Tell me all of it, Jade. I’m not some child, too naive to know about the consequences of dealing in spellwork! Why the footing around the issue the minute this disease is discussed? What is happening to the children?!”
He remained calm, shifting his arm to below your waist to hoist you up into a carry, hushing your indignant shriek with a whisper of your name to command your silence. The second time in ten years that they’d dare to use your name against you.
“You’re bringing unwanted attention to us. Come, we’ll go see Azul. I’ll explain as we walk.”
You were forced to sit in his arms in silence as he carried you through the village, the curious gazes of the villagers sliding off the two of you like water as their eyes glazed over and something else caught their attention. You squeezed his shoulder with your nails as hard as you could, irritated when he hardly spared you a glance.
“At first, Floyd and I thought it was like that illness you prepared for five years ago. That was why we fished for the memory of that potion you made at the time and helped you gather the ingredients for your potions. But then Azul came to us after he confined you to your home with the symptoms you’d described to him. You hadn’t told us nearly half of what you’d told him. Floyd was quite cross with you.”
You winced, aware that Jade was cross with you as well, even if he left it unspoken. He continued on, just as matter of factly.
“As Azul told you, the disease is inhuman. To be more precise, it is a dark, forbidden magic. It is drenched in the work of fae dealings.”
He glanced up at you, making eye contact.
“Unlike Azul, the fae deals in the way of an exact, equivalent exchange.”
He looked forward again, taking care as he steps onto the beach, so as to not drop you on the uneven terrain.
His command on you had lost its hold, but you were too tremulous to open your mouth. Azul was already waiting at the shoreline, in his human form, the tide creating a semi-circle around him as it ebbed in and out.
“The children are wasting because they are being traded for - “
You slapped a hand over Jade’s mouth, unable to hear the rest. He was unbothered, setting you down. Your knees gave up, but he kept his arm around you to hold you up.
Azul approached with sigh, taking you from Jade’s hold to support you himself.
“The children have not improved on their own, I take it?”
You could barely manage a shake of your head, a cold nausea rising up within you. Azul’s hand rubbing up and down your back slowly, soothingly, kept your focus in the moment.
“These humans are why I didn’t want you to leave home,” he sighed, easing you down to the sand so that you could sit together. Jade walked off in your peripheral vision, but your focus was on Azul and his words. He hesitated for a moment, removing his glasses and looking down at them for a moment, before looking up at you. “I am…sure you noticed that the humans of this village have always been the chipper sort, despite the harshness of the land they live on. It’s what drew you to them, after all.”
You nodded slowly, fighting against the urge to close your eyes and cover your ears.
“Have you not wondered why that is? Why their life is so plentiful, when their land does not take seed, when their shores are wracked by storms so often that their one means of sustenance is not sustenance enough?”
He paused, waiting for a response, then continued on while you remained silent.
“Did you not wonder why they were so eager to welcome you and give you a home out of the abandoned shack on the beach when you offered magic in exchange for nothing but a hot meal?”
You shut your eyes, refusing to open them even as his hands cupped your face and his thumbs stroked your cheeks.
“You’ve always been a bleeding heart,” he sighed, pulling away. The air grew damp, and it was becoming hard for you to breathe as the magic in the air began to concentrate.
When had the two of you moved from the beach? Where had Jade gone?
“Do you still wish to save the children?”
You opened your eyes to meet his, swaying as your brain fought against what he was telling you, what he was asking of you. You were beginning to gag on the magic in the air.
“I wish to go back. I want to forget everything.”
Cool gray eyes stared back into yours as you fought to keep your focus intact in the smoky haze of the cave you found yourself in. How did you get here, again? The thoughts were languidly coiling in your mind, unable to fully form, teasing you to distraction.
“Can you afford the price of ignorance?”
The sharp command of that voice snapped up your attention back to the present, the dampness of the cave a cool balm on your feverish skin, body shaking from the wild magic choking you. The very air was saturated with it and your body was rejecting it. Your focus lapsed against a tide of nausea that rolled over you. A hand touched your cheek, the brush of fingertips a whisper of relief as your eyes opened again. You couldn’t make out his face anymore in the haze that seemed to thicken the longer you stared in search of his eyes. You had to close your eyes again to hold onto the clarity he had returned to you; your voice cracked against the last dregs of your consciousness.
“I’ve more than paid all that you’ve ever asked of me.”
Azul caught you, cradling you to his chest. He sighed, stroking the top of your head with a frown. You were haggard and drained, your human form ill-suited to take in the untamed magic of the cave he’d brought the two of you to, away from the beach where villagers lingered at the edges, unable to actually enter the cursed beach themselves. He traced gentle touches down your face, your shoulders, your arms, undoing the spells he’d layered upon you ten years ago when he’d delivered you to the shores of this village.
The one deal he’d regretted in the past ten years.
He kept watch over you until your breathing eased and your body adjusted to the magic saturating in the cave, laying you down in the pool of water that’d begun to grow as the tide came into the cave.
Your true form was just as breathtaking as the last he’d seen it, before you’d left home to come onto land, to be with these humans you loved so much.
“To think I’d ever break my rule to never negotiate with the fae,” he murmured, taking in your peaceful, sleeping face.
He hated humans, yes. They made it so easy to prey upon their greed. He truly did not understand what you saw in them.
But he was still no monster.
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Likes and reblogs are welcomed and appreciated! If you have any questions about this story and the elements that were left open ended and up to interpretation, please feel free to send me an ask!
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nunununuy · 2 months ago
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Part 4
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Part 3 Part 5
Prince x Fem Reader
Title: "Changing the Fate of the Third Prince"
It had been several days since I last went to the palace. I hadn't set foot in the library, nor had I gone to the archery range where Rafael and I used to spend hours together. I told myself that it was necessary—that I needed time to clear my head and put my emotions in check. But the truth was, I was avoiding him.
I had seen Rafael with Princess Seraphina too many times now, and each time felt like a dagger to my heart. He seemed so at ease around her, so happy, that it felt like I no longer had a place in his life. He didn’t even try to seek me out, not once. Not a single message sent through Selina, not a word asking about my well-being. It was as though I had already faded into the background of his life, replaced by the princess.
“Maybe I was just a temporary part of his journey,” I murmured to myself one night as I sat alone in my room. “Maybe I was just here to guide him until he found his own happiness.”
The thought hurt more than I cared to admit, but there was a part of me that knew it was true. Rafael seemed better now—more open, more relaxed. The cold distance he once held between himself and others had thawed, especially around Seraphina. Perhaps my job here was done.
Selina, noticing my gloom, had tried to cheer me up in her own way. “You should come shopping with me,” she suggested one morning. “You’ve been locked up in your room for days, and honestly, I need some help picking out a few things. It’ll be fun, and you need a distraction.”
Reluctantly, I agreed, not wanting to worry her further. Besides, what else could I do? I had no plans, no purpose here anymore.
***
As we wandered through the bustling market streets, Selina chattered away about her upcoming wedding with Prince Arthur. I listened absentmindedly, nodding along as we passed various shops. My mind was elsewhere, still stuck on thoughts of Rafael.
Then, as we passed one of the larger accessory shops, I froze.
Through the large glass window, I saw them—Rafael and Princess Seraphina. They were standing side by side, talking quietly, looking down at a display case filled with jewelry. My heart twisted painfully in my chest as I watched them, unaware of the world outside.
Rafael was smiling—a soft, genuine smile—and Seraphina seemed to be offering her opinion on something he was pointing at. I could see them clearly through the glass, their faces inches apart, their conversation relaxed and intimate. They looked like the perfect couple, like they belonged together.
A cold realization washed over me.
Rafael didn’t need me anymore. He had found his happiness. He had Seraphina now, someone who could stand by his side, someone who understood his world in a way I never could. The warmth I had once seen in his eyes when he looked at me had shifted to her.
My chest ached with the weight of it all. I wanted to run, but my feet felt glued to the ground.
“Why... why am I still here?” I whispered to myself. “I was never meant to stay.”
Selina, who had wandered ahead, didn’t notice that I had stopped. She was busy examining a dress at a nearby stall. My heart pounded in my ears as I stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to look away from Rafael and Seraphina.
They were laughing now. Seraphina pointed to a necklace, and Rafael nodded thoughtfully, his smile still lingering. He seemed so... happy. My mind raced as I tried to make sense of it. Was this what the novel had always planned? Had I failed to change anything after all?
Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away. I couldn’t cry here, not in the middle of the street. Not where anyone could see. Especially not Selina. She would only worry.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to turn away from the shop window and follow Selina. But the image of Rafael and Seraphina stayed burned in my mind.
***
That evening, as I sat by the window in my room, watching the sun set over the city, I made my decision. It was time to leave. The capital was no longer my place, and neither was Rafael’s world. I had done my part—I had helped him. He was no longer the cold, distant prince I had first met. He was happier now, and that was all I had ever wanted for him.
But there was no room for me in that happiness.
I reached for a pen and parchment, preparing to write a letter to my family back home. I would leave in two days, taking the first carriage back to the small village where I had grown up. The capital was grand and exciting, but it had never truly felt like home. Maybe it was time I returned to a simpler life.
The thought of leaving Rafael behind tugged at my heart, but what choice did I have? Staying here, watching him grow closer to Seraphina, watching their relationship blossom—it would only break me more. I couldn’t bear to be a bystander in his life any longer.
As I sealed the letter, a part of me hoped that maybe—just maybe—he would notice my absence before I left. But I quickly pushed the thought away. Rafael had his life, his future, and Seraphina. He didn’t need me anymore.
Or so I thought.
Now, with my decision to leave set in stone, I could only hope that by leaving, I might finally find peace. But deep down, a small voice whispered that perhaps I was running away from something more than just the painful reality of the novel’s future. Perhaps I was running from my own heart.
___
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annafoxxx7 · 1 year ago
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author's note: this is my first ever fic, it sucks so bad i'm sorry. hopefully the next one will be better 🤞🤞
WARNINGS !!!! SMUTTTT (w/plot?) dom!ellie, sub!reader, mentions of knives, mentions of blood, swearing, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), face-riding, lots of gay stuff !! homophobes DNI !!!!!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“WHO IS THAT? SHOW YOURSELF.” Ellie shouts into the shadows at your figure as you slowly come towards the camp.
You walk out of the brush clutching your side as blood gushes through your shirt. Your clothes are torn up, hardly even covering you anymore. 
“It’s me Ells, it’s just me,” you shout with one hand up and one hand still putting pressure on your wound. 
“Oh my god Y/N, what the fuck happened to you?” 
“It was those guys from last week. They recognized me and started asking about you. I just pulled a knife and tried to fight them but clearly that didn’t work out very well. Eventually I just ran and made sure I lost them.”
“Holy shit, why would you do that? You can’t keep putting yourself in danger for me.” 
“Well, to be fair they would have had to hurt me to get to you so it was kind of done out of my own selfishness,” you chuckled.
“Well, thank you. Either way.”
“You’re… fuck….. Welcome”
Ellie leads you into the camp and has you sit on the small mattress you share every night. She begins to clean the wound. The bleeding has slowed down but any kind of pressure on it hurts so you aren’t very comfortable to say the least. Ellie finishes covering the tear with a fresh, white bandage.
“There, better?”
“Much better. Thank you for always taking care of me Ellie. I know it’s cringy to say but seriously, you’re always so thoughtful.”
“Of course, hun. Do you need anything else?”
“I mean, a distraction would be nice…” you smirk.
“Do you want me to… keep taking care of you?” Ellie begins to kiss down your chest to your stomach, carefully avoiding your bandage. 
“That would be- fuck. That sounds perfect,” you stutter.
Ellie works her way down your stomach and positions herself between your legs. She kisses the inside of your thighs inching closer to your throbbing core. Every kiss is a wave of pleasure, washing away the pain in your wounded side.  You’re aching for her, already dripping for her mouth. She notices.
“You’re so wet for me. You want me to make you feel good?”
“Yes- Ells please. Need you.”
“How do you need me, hun? Use your words.”
“Inside. Need your-” you mumble, unable to form coherent sentences.
“Speak up.” She begins laying soft kisses along your clit.
“Fingers. Please.”
“Whatever makes my girl feel good.”
Ellie teases your entrance before dipping one finger in, then two. She pumps them in and out curling them up with every stroke. She continues licking and kissing at your wet cunt. You thrust into her mouth, wanting more pressure but trying not to hurt your already damaged side. Ellie notices you struggling and proposes something to make you feel better. She stops what she’s doing and flips over onto her back.
“C’mere. Sit down.”
You straddle her and inch towards her mouth. You feel her hot breath against you as you hover over her face. You don’t put all your weight down at first in an attempt not to hurt her. As if she can read your mind, Ellie smiles and says
“You’re not gonna hurt me, hun. You have to ride.”
“Oh ok… like this?” 
You lower down immediately feeling the contact of her lips to your pussy.
“Atta girl… fuck.” 
Ellie melts underneath you. You audibly moan as you begin to ride against her. This was WAY less painful than before and you’re already inching closer to your release. Ellie puts her tongue inside of you thrusting it in and out. Her nose rubs against your swollen bud as you rock into her. She pulls her tongue from your entrance and begins suck on your clit. Ecstasy fills your body as you cum in her mouth. Ellie moans at the taste. You lower yourself off of her and lay on her chest. After a few minutes of heavy breathing and silence, you stutter.
“Did you.. want me to…?” You gesture to her pants.
“Oh- no haha! I’m uh… already taken care of.”
Apparently, the friction of her jeans and the thrill of the whole encounter were enough to make her finish on her own.
“Oh god. Well, maybe next time we can… switch places?” 
She smirks at you.
“I’d like that.”
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vodika-vibes · 10 months ago
Note
Hi, Vod'ika. How is it going? Are you still accepting requests? If the answer is yes, can you write some comfort to Hunter with the prompt “I promised I'd stay with you until the end of the line, and that's exactly what I'm going to do.” Seeing Hunter so down in the new season made my heart hurt. He has been struggling with negative feelings for a long time, I believe that since the time he was unable to convince Crosshair to return. In my mind he feels guilt, he feels like he failed as a leader, so maybe the reader can bring him some comfort at this moment. ♥️
Not To Me
Summary: You're worried about Hunter, but he's being stubborn.
Pairing: Pre Hunter x F!Reader
Word Count: 1308
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol abuse
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly
A/N: I hope this is close to what you wanted!
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You frown as you watch Hunter out of the corner of your eyes, though you’re very careful to make sure that you keep working. The last thing you want to do is make Hunter worry about you worrying about him.
He’s…not doing well.
Though you seem to be the only person who notices it. 
You set the bottle in front of the patron you’re talking to, and then return behind the bar to start cleaning glasses. 
Hunter’s been a regular here for ages, and you like to think that you’re friends. Or at least, friendly enough.
And, as much as you want more, you are content to wait until he’s ready to consider a relationship.
You toss a lemon rind into the trash with a small frown on your face. Hunter’s been coming nightly for the last couple of weeks, and you’re concerned. You’ve watched as, day after day, he looks more and more haggard. More and more tired. 
And you worry.
You’re not unused to seeing people drink their problems away. You’ve seen more than one person that you considered a friend chance in horrific ways due to alcohol abuse, and you’re beginning to fear that Hunter is heading down that same path.
For a moment, you glance away from the glasses you’re washing to glance at Hunter, and you watch as he pulls his bandana off and pushes his hand through his hair, exhaustion so heavy around him that you can almost feel it from where you’re standing.
He’s still nursing his drink, the third one he’s ordered since he arrived, but you can’t sit here and watch this anymore. You can’t.
Quickly you pour a mug of caf from the machine under the counter, and you cross the bar to set the mug in front of him. He blinks at the steaming liquid, and then he looks up at you, his hair hanging in his face as he hasn’t put his bandana back in place yet.
“I didn’t order a caf?” Hunter asks, bemused and bewildered in equal measures.
“Oh, I know. It just…it looked like you needed it.” You say with a bright smile, “May I join you?”
Slowly he leans back so he’s sitting properly rather than half slumped over the table, “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
That’s not a no, so you slide into the booth across from him, “I’m tired of having drunk men pawing at me, so I’m taking a break.” You push the caf closer to him, “Here, drink it. It’s good~” You tempt.
Hunter sighs but abandons his whiskey and wraps his hands around the mug. “Is there a reason you’re giving me caf?” 
“Can’t I just give you caf because I want to?” You ask lightly as you reach across the table and take the glass of whiskey away from him. Hunter watches you with his sharp eyes, and you wilt. The jig is up. “Alright, alright. I’m worried about you, Hunter.”
“Don’t be.”
“Hunter-”
“It’s not your job to worry about me.” Hunter interrupts. 
“Someone has to!” You say sharply, “Hunter, you used to come in, maybe, once a week for a single glass. But for the last three weeks you’ve been coming in nightly for multiple drinks.”
“Maybe I just enjoy the ambiance.” 
You stare at him in disbelief, “No one enjoys the ambiance of this bar.”
“Look, I’m fine-”
“You’re not! Hunter, please.” You lean across the table and carefully wrap your hands around his, silently sending up a prayer that he won’t react badly, “I’ve been surrounded by alcoholics my entire life. I’ve watched as alcohol ruined families and destroyed people I once called friends. I don’t want that for you.”
He stares at you, something almost like defeat crossing his face, “Are you kicking me out?”
“No. Of course not. I am, however, cutting you off.”
“Fine. I’ll go somewhere else then.”
“Hunter, please stop being difficult. I’m trying to help you.”
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
“You obviously need it.” You tighten your hands around his, “Look, I’m not a soldier or a doctor. I can’t fight or heal or make your life better in any way other than this. But, I’m not going away. I refuse to leave you.”
Hunter stares at you, slightly startled, and you flash a weak smile, “I’m with you until the end of the line, so to speak.”
Hunter sighs, and carefully extracts his hands from yours, before he drops some credits on the table, “I’m fine. But thanks anyway.” And then he’s gone, and you sigh softly.
You hope he heard you, even if he wasn’t ready to accept it.
There’s a shout from across the room, and you slide out of the booth. Time to go back to work.
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It’s been three months since you’ve seen Hunter, and you’re still worried about him. Worried and hurt that he would cut off your friendship over something as unimportant as alcohol, but you suppose that’s life.
In any event, you have the day off, so you’re spending the day in your apartment catching up on your favorite trash TV.
You’re halfway through a marathon (Mariella just found out that her evil twin sister pretended to be her to marry her fiance-) when there’s a knock on the door.
“Just a second!” You call, as you swing your legs off the couch and set your bottle of flavored water and popcorn on the table, making sure you pause the show, and then you hurry over to the door.
You press the button to open the door, and any words that you might have said die on your tongue as soon as you see who’s standing there.
Hunter.
Hunter looks twice as haggard as the last time you saw him, with dark circles under his eyes that almost look like bruises, and it doesn’t look like he’s brushed his hair in a week.
“...Hunter?” You reach out and lightly touch his cheek, “Are you okay?”
He takes half a step towards you and then slowly drops his forehead to your shoulder, and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, “...no. Not really.”
“...well, that’s okay.” You gently guide him into your home, and settle him on the couch, before you kneel in front of him and start removing his armor. “Do you want to talk about it?”
He sighs so heavily that you want to cry, “No. Not really.”
You set his armor to the side, “Okay. How about a shower? And some food?”
“I don’t want to be alone right now.” He admits quietly.
You sit back on your heels, your mind racing, “Okay. Okay, so a bath then. And I can sit on the edge of the tub and be there with you.” Your face heats at his look, “I’m not trying to be weird, I promise. Just…you look so tired Hunter. I’d like to make sure you don’t drown-”
He reaches out and pulls you into a tight hug, pulling you onto his lap, and he buries his face in your neck. “I don’t deserve you.” He mumbles.
You gently card your fingers through his hair, carefully working the knots out with your fingers, “I promised I'd stay with you until the end of the line, and that's exactly what I'm going to do.” You whisper to him. 
“You deserve better than some failure of a clone.” Hunter says against the skin of your neck.
“Hey, none of that.” You lightly kiss the side of his head, “I chose this. I chose you. Just…let me take care of you.”
“It’ll be awful work.” He warns.
“Not to me. Not if it is you. Not ever.”
And slowly, as you hold him, some of the tension drains from his body. And, for the first time, you start to think that he’ll be okay.
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leidensygdom · 8 months ago
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Ok, I'm gonna start a post idea I had been pondering. If you're either mentally or physically disabled and you have opinions about representation, this is the thread for you!
So, I've been seeing more people trying to tackle the topic of autism in their stories, but I've felt some of it tries to woobify a bit what is to live with autism, or just focus on the more socially acceptable quirks of it. And as someone with autism/ADHD (was suspected of it for most of my life, got it finally diagnosed by my therapist (who specializes in autism and ADHD) last year), sometimes I'd like for people to acknowledge the more unsavoury parts of it, the weird quirks, etc.
So, this post is going to be about that- If you wanna help people understand how your disability/neurodivergency affects your life, feel free to add to it! Just mention what do you have (no need for a full list, just what you consider relevant to the post) and some experiences, quirks, anecdotes or such that you think that are not often seen in stories or media, and that you consider an important part of it. They don't need to be huge things! I encourage people to share just whatever they feel comfortable. My list is gonna be a mix of stuff, but yours can be very different. Let me start!
Clothes and how they feel was surprisingly one of the most disruptive parts of my autism. As a kid, if I was forced to wear something that caused me some bad texture/sensitivity issues, it would significantly affect my behaviour and performance. It took me many years to be allowed to use mostly sportswear. (And it turns out being a "girl" (not anymore) wearing only sportswear tends to cause a whole lot of bullying)
This happens even nowadays. I've found out that non-heeled boots are more comfortable to me than sport shoes, because feeling something against the back of my foot makes me feel overwhelmed. I tend to wear yoga pants under actual pants, because they keep the actual pants' seams from causing sensory issues. There's almost a sort of ritual on how do I need to combine clothes to be able to function "normally", mostly consisting on reducing how much they annoy me.
On that topic, hygiene is actually a huge thing too. As a kid, I wasn't allowed to shower daily. Days I didn't shower, no matter how much I tried to keep my hygiene in other days, were "bad days" to me. I would literally plan hanging out with friends or eating out around the days I was allowed to shower. I could physically feel the difference between the day I showered and the day I didn't (even if I washed my face, armpits, used the bidet, etc).
This is true even nowadays. I can thankfully now shower daily, which isn't recommended by a lot of experts (specially because it can damage your hair and skin), but it's more worth to me than having days where I feel like I shouldn't be seen in public.
Being overwhelmed sucks! Meltdowns are mostly associated with kids, mostly because adults either learn to mask them, or do everything they can to AVOID having that meltdown. I've mostly figured out routines and such. There's this one place we go eat out every other Tuesday- And in the hours we go in, there's a sort of silent corner that is always free. This week's schedule was a mess, so we went yesterday to that same place, and the silent corner was filled with a very loud group. I got extremely overwhelmed. But enough masking drilled to me means I just sat there unable to talk for maybe 30 minutes.
Autistic adults still do have autism and experience often the full spread of traits, they've just found ways to mask, or avoid being in situations where they do need to do that. I've adapted my life and routine to that. But sometimes I land on situations out of my comfort zone that will make me feel just like when I was a kid. I want to freelance online because I'm fully aware I can't perform properly in a public facing job.
Group projects sucked so much. I know they suck for most people, but most times it was easier for me to do the entirety of the project by myself and add the others' names to it than dealing with chasing people for their parts. My college had a 6-months-long massive group project in the last year, with a 7 people group, which obviously I couldn't do alone. The whole experience was so harmful in so many ways I've had several full therapy sessions talking about it :'')
One of the reasons it's because mental flexibility is HARD with autism. If i set a schedule, I expect that schedule to be followed. If people agree to do a part, I expect that part to be delivered (unless there's a proper reason) on due time. People hate this a lot usually! It will tear group projects apart!
Stimming can be harmless, or it can be very annoying to some. I tend to shake legs and play with something in my hands. I could easy this off drawing in classes- My high school found out that I was paying more attention when I was allowed to draw in classes, and my academic performance was pretty much perfect, so they gave me permission to do that.
However, I had a teacher in middle school that did forbid me from drawing. I stimmed during a class with pens- She got so mad she sent me home with a note to my parents they had to sign. Fun!
Not exactly an anecdote, but I am ace. I hate the discourse about "making an autistic person be aro or ace is infantilizing autism". Aro/ace people can have autism. That's just how it is. I've been infantilized a lot for being ace- Which only got worse because I am autistic, and people perceived some of my special interests as child-ish. The combo didn't make things easy.
On that topic, people will often be very patronizing of your opinions or takes for being autistic. I've had people debate my sexuality (or lack of thereof), my gender identity and presentation, my hobbies, my preferences for everything, down to "what do you want to eat tonight?". This isn't too different to shitty takes about how "autistic people are more prone to being affected by the trans activistsTM", because people assume autistic people can't choose on their own. Trust me: We can.
Anyhow, I'd love if this post could be a good compilation of these sort of anecdotes! I think it could help people who wanna learn more about what is it to live with specific disabilities (and how to better portray them in media)
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project-sonadow · 1 year ago
Text
Shooting Star
Before… everything, Shadow lived on the ARK his whole life. Almost everyone else got to come and go as they pleased. The professor and his scientists frequently traveled down to the planet below, either to conduct more research or to explain the results of their project to the military commanders funding Shadow’s very existence. The GUN personnel aboard the ARK, who stared at Shadow with fear and hostility, always left after a couple weeks, to be replaced by new, bright-eyed recruits who didn’t know a thing about the truth of the project. 
But there was one person who was with him, always.
“Shadow, what do you think it’s like on earth?” Maria asked.
“The professor said his life’s work was dedicated to all of those who live down there. He once told that the reason for his existence was making people happy through the power of science.”
It was a line Gerald had fed to him, to give to his granddaughter, naive by the circumstances of her life. There was only one person Gerald dedicated his life to, and only one that he wanted to make happy. But it was a lie Shadow was never going to contradict, especially when he owed his creation to Gerald, and his few moments of companionship to Maria.
“Shadow…”
They were looking out the windows on the ARK, at the black of space dotted all over by light from stars which could be long dead by now. The planet was below them, always below them, a vibrant mix of white and blue and green, brighter than anything on the ARK itself, constructed of sharp edges and dull shades of gray. The two of them were only on the ARK to keep Maria alive, so Shadow could be used to save her life, but neither of them were happy here. 
And if Maria wasn’t happy, wasn’t able to live her life, then Shadow’s purpose, his reason for existence…
“Maria… I just don’t know anything anymore. I often wonder why I was created. What my purpose is, for being here. Maybe if I go down there, I will find the answers. Maybe…”
His voice trailed off, and Maria looked at him with sad eyes. It was one of her better days, one where she was able to stand, and talk without gasping for air, but she still looked like a frail, washed out ghost under the harsh lights of the colony. 
“Maria…”
And so they remained there, stuck between the planet below and the stars above.
---
When he first met the other hedgehog, Shadow was unimpressed. He had known GUN was going to find some way to justify his existence to the world at large, but he had assumed it would be the GUN Commander, or someone who had been at GUN for over 50 years.
Instead, they had found a hedgehog, similar to him in appearance but different in every other way. 
Right now, that hedgehog was glaring up at him, green eyes narrowed in misdirected fury. The destroyed Big Foot crunched underneath Shadow’s shoes, evidence of how weak GUN was, unable to capture even an inferior version of him. 
Shadow should have left. He had done his job by stealing a Chaos Emerald, and decimating as much of GUN’s forces as he could in one night. He had a job to do, and he had to get to the ARK. From there, Gerald’s grandson could unwittingly take care of the rest of the plan, if he was half as competent as his grandfather had been.
And yet, he stayed. He blamed his own curiosity- this was the hedgehog GUN had elected to blame for Shadow’s misdeeds, the one who Gerald’s grandson had mistaken him for. Surely there was something special about him. 
“What?” the hedgehog said, clearly confused at Shadow’s appearance, and he smirked, holding the Chaos Emerald up high for the hedgehog to see.
“It all starts with this… a jewel containing the ultimate power…”
“That’s the… Chaos Emerald!” the hedgehog said, and Shadow saw a mixture of surprise and rage cross his face. “Now I know what’s going on! The military has mistaken me for the likes of you. So… where do you think you’re going with that Emerald?!”
Shadow said nothing, and simply glared down at the other hedgehog. It would be foolish to charge an unknown opponent directly, especially one with one of the most powerful items on the planet, and yet the hedgehog looked like he was about to do just that, ears pinned back against his head in fury and disgust.
“Say something! You fake hedgehog!”
Shadow didn’t bother to meet his attack head-on, simply tossing the Chaos Emerald up into the air and catching it again. He felt the power of the Emerald pulsing in his hand, bending and malleable to Shadow’s will- “Chaos Control!”
Shadow had planned to simply warp to the opposite building, hitting the hedgehog on the way, maybe hard enough to keep him out of any of Shadow’s plans. But even under the effects of Chaos Control, with the world slowed down to a stop around him- Shadow saw the other hedgehog’s eyes widen minutely, and then his feet skidded on the pavement. Slow, but still just fast enough to change course, to avoid Shadow entirely.
Shadow blinked, and then he was on the opposite roof. The other hedgehog wheeled around, alarm and surprise on his face, before he started speaking to himself again. “Wow… he’s fast! Hey, it’s not his speed, he must be using the Chaos Emerald to warp!”
So, he was able to figure out Chaos Control from only seeing it used once. But that didn’t mean much of anything at all, at least not by itself.
Shadow curiosity- and annoyance- was piqued. He had hoped to be able to eliminate the other in a single encounter. But their time together was already coming to an end. Shadow could see the human’s forces, military and police alike, approaching. What a shame, to not be able to get rid of the blue pest.
“My name is Shadow. I’m the world’s ultimate lifeform. There’s no time for games… farewell!”
It was easy enough to teleport all the way to the Space Colony ARK with just one Emerald, and the last he saw of the hedgehog was him flinching back, a hand going up to cover his eyes, and then he vanished from sight entirely, replaced by familiar halls that Shadow had already come to hate.
Shadow, still tossing the Emerald into the air, closed his eyes and considered the hedgehog for a second.
Fast. Strong enough to destroy a GUN mech entirely and be unharmed by the encounter. Smart enough to figure out Chaos Control without using it himself. But also stupid, to charge into a fight without knowing a thing about his enemy’s capabilities, and capable of being overwhelmed by strong emotion like a fool.
Special. But nothing too special. Nothing like Shadow himself.
---
Shadow hoped he wouldn’t encounter the other hedgehog again, that he would just remain locked in GUN’s deepest, darkest cell until Shadow was able to fulfill Maria’s wish. Sadly, the humans were incompetent at everything, so it wasn’t too long into Shadow’s next excursion down to the planet’s surface before there was another chance encounter.
“Hey, that’s…”
“That blue hedgehog again, of all places…”
“I found you, faker!”
“Faker? I think you’re the fake hedgehog around here. You’re comparing yourself to me… ha! You’re not even good enough to be my fake!”
“I’ll make you eat those words!”
Shadow had been intending to end it quickly. Gerald’s grandson had promised to destroy the entire island, so all Shadow had to do was kill the other hedgehog quickly, or find a way to cripple him and leave him here, to die in the explosion. Shadow was the Ultimate Lifeform. The other hedgehog was nobody.
And yet…
They ended up glaring at each other from across the clearing, both bruised and battered, but neither able to win. Emerald eyes were just as sharp as ever as they glared at Shadow, and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the Chaos Emeralds as he stared into them.
Shadow could see that the other hedgehog was exhausted, sweat matting his fur, and panting for air. But Shadow felt even more breathless, more out of practice and weak. 
It infuriated him. 
It was the beeping from the communicator that distracted both of them. “Shadow! What are you doing? Hurry and get back here right now before the island blows up with you on it!” The other hedgehog’s eyes widened, predictably. “Blows up?”
Had Shadow really wasted this much time with a single hedgehog? He jumped back, and didn’t spare another glance at the hedgehog as he fled. But next time, he swore that he would crush him. 
Somehow, Shadow knew he wouldn’t be lucky enough for him to die before then.
---
As it turned out, Shadow was wrong. The explosion lit up the entirety of space, and Shadow, in the same place where he had stood with Maria once, stared at it with nothing but contempt.
“I guess he was just a regular hedgehog, after all.”
---
But even after that, things continued to go wrong. Rouge’s betrayal, the truth about the project designed to create the Ultimate Lifeform- Shadow felt off balance, unsteady, even before he found his way to the one of the many long hallways leading to the Eclipse Cannon and found a ghost waiting for him.
“You never cease to surprise me, blue hedgehog. I thought that the capsule you were in exploded in space.”
The hedgehog grinned at him, and it stoked a fire somewhere deep in Shadow. “You know, what can I say… I die hard! You actually saved me, you know.”
Shadow glanced down at the Chaos Emerald the other held. The fake Chaos Emerald. “It was a Chaos Emerald, wasn’t it? But, there’s no way you could have activated the Chaos Control using an Emerald that’s fake.”
They started running, and Shadow kept up with the blue hedgehog’s pace easily as they ran down the hallway, but glancing down at their feet- the other was wearing ordinary shoes, and Shadow was wearing air shoes, designed specifically to allow him to travel at high speeds. Shadow grit his teeth. “So, there’s more to you than just looking like me. What are you anyway?”
“What you see is what you get! Just a guy that loves adventure! I’m Sonic the Hedgehog!”
Sonic. A regular name for a regular hedgehog. “I see. But you know, I can’t let you live. Your adventuring days are coming to an end!”
They fought, in space, above the planet and below the stars. And Shadow…
Shadow lost.
---
They didn’t see each other again. Not until Eggman won, and Gerald’s plan was complete, his message played across the entire earth so all of humanity would know what was coming for them, how their arrogance and cruelty had sealed their fate decades ago. 
And Shadow… thought it was over. Until another hedgehog, this one small and frail and foolish, reached out to him in desperation and hope and an earnest, true love for the planet Shadow hated and all the people on it.
Shadow had thought he would meet with resistance, and suspicion. Instead, Sonic was just confused, and happy, that Shadow was helping.
“Leave this one to me!”
“Shadow, what are you doing?”
“I’ll take care of this, while you run to get the Chaos Emeralds!”
Sonic grinned at those words, and nodded, grabbing his friend by the hand and running around the Biolizard.
The Biolizard itself, supposedly another ultimate lifeform, the prototype of Shadow himself, was so much easier to defeat than one small hedgehog had ever been.
But much like Sonic, it refused to give up, even on the brink of defeat.
The Biolizard vanished- teleported- in a flash of light, and then the shaking of the colony resumed, so harsh and sudden that Shadow almost fell over. Gerald’s grandson spoke to them over the communicators in the ARK, informing them of what it had done, and Shadow- Shadow didn’t know what to do. They had all thrown everything they had at it, and yet-
“Sonic!” the echidna yelled, dragging Shadow out of his thoughts, and he turned to see the two of them, engaged in what looked like a silent argument. Sonic’s eyes glanced between the echidna, the Master Emerald, the Chaos Emeralds- and then Shadow.
Shadow wasn’t entirely sure how he knew what Sonic intended to do, but he just did. It was unlike anything he ever felt before- an eerie calmness, and a sudden surge of confidence that they would win.
Sonic took Shadow by the hand, and led him up to the very top of the altar, where Chaos Energy burned and crackled, where the Chaos Emeralds formed a circle around the two of them. He met Sonic’s eyes once before he closed his own, unable to bear the trust that he saw in them.
He had no idea this was even possible, but it came to him naturally anyway. Chaos Energy flowed through the two of them, and when Shadow opened his eyes he met ruby red on the other side, flickering like fire.
“Come on!” Super Sonic said, a grin of pure excitement on his face. “Let’s go save the world!”
---
The Finalhazard, fitting for a creation of Gerald Robotnik, refused to go down without a fight. And Shadow, despite feeling more powerful than he had ever been, was burning through his power fast. Far too fast for this fight, despite the rings he and Sonic intermittently collected.
And Sonic was beginning to notice.
“Shadow! Your power’s getting weaker! Hey, are you okay?”
Shadow grunted, and tried to focus on the fight.
“Shadow, at this rate, your super form won’t last! Get back to the Colony!”
Shadow landed a hit on the Biolizard, barely damaging it.
“Continuous use of your Super form will cause you to disappear! Get back to the Colony!”
The Finalhazard hit Shadow, sending him directly into Sonic, blasting them both back into space. When they both righted themselves, Shadow took a moment to glare at Sonic. Only a moment, they didn’t have any other time to spare- but Sonic seemed to understand, and gave him a small smile.
The fight didn’t get any easier from there, but things became more bearable when he and Sonic were working in sync, landing blow after blow on the seemingly-invincible creature. The ARK continued to get closer to the planet, and their communicators both crackled, the people on the other side first yelling advice, then warnings, and then pleas for them both to retreat to the ARK. Neither of them listened.
And even when the Finalhazard was finally beginning to weaken, its attacks desperate and wild, Shadow could tell that he and Sonic were on their last legs, burning through the last of the energy. He grit his teeth, preparing for the final attack, and glanced over at Sonic.
Sonic looked fine. His fur sparkled like gold, his eyes like burning rubies. The grin on his face was back, and even from a distance, the way he dodged each of the Finalhazard’s attacks, the backdrop of space behind him- he looked like a shooting star. He looked beautiful.
Sonic…
His light grew brighter, almost blinding Shadow, as he shot towards the Finalhazard.
I think I’ve discovered what the Ultimate Lifeform is…
The Finalhazard screamed, lashing out with all its might, lasers and bombs and flailing limbs. It was all worthless.
It might be you!
Super Sonic collided with the side of Finalhazard, landing the finishing blow, and Shadow didn’t watch as it died. He just kept his eyes on Sonic, even when he knew the other wasn’t looking at him. 
Eventually, though, even someone like Sonic needed help, and as Shadow saw him struggle to stop the falling Colony he flew forward, joining Sonic. A Chaos Control of this size and power was something Shadow had never attempted and he knew Sonic hadn’t either, but somehow, he knew that they could pull it off together.
Even if he was almost out of time. 
The instant he knew the world was safe- that he had fulfilled Maria’s promise- Shadow felt the last of his power leave him, and he plummeted towards the earth. It didn’t take even a second for Sonic to fly after him, attempting to catch him. Shadow knew it was useless, but he held out his hand anyway, hoping against reality that Sonic would be able to create another miracle.
He wasn’t. Sonic’s fingers snagged against his inhibitor ring, pulling it off Shadow’s hand, and he continued falling, with the expression on Sonic’s face seared into his mind. He closed his eyes, and tried to forget the anguish on it.
“Maria… this is what you wanted, right? This is my promise I made to you.”
Shadow fell, and Sonic remained far above him, a star he could never catch up to.
231 notes · View notes