#didn’t hurt as bad as i thought it would
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
☆彡 age ain’t nothing but a number ˳༄꠶
characters: park gyeong seok (player 246), kang dae ho (player 388), and hwang in ho (player 001 / the frontman)
˳༄꠶ summary: headcannons i have regarding if you - their partner - were younger than them (fem intended! reader, and all legal babes 💋)
park gyeong seok (player 246)
★ he works as a portrait painter near an amusement park, he’s been approached by many younger woman. they usually directly express their interest in him by flirting but he usually brushes it off with a smile and a timid shake of his head. regarding this, i don’t think it would’ve been a problem if he’d gotten into a relationship with a younger woman; he is a the type of older man to get really shy about it though
★ despite the hierarchy in korea where juniors are supposed to automatically respect their elders, gyeong seok doesn’t really push it too much. he treats you as an equal with a bit of extra pampering - he does believe that since he’s the older one in the relationship, he should carry most of the responsibilities, whether that be household chores, bringing money home, or just caring for you and his daughter
★ he isn’t too sensitive to other’s opinions on your relationship, but there are some times where he worries about the age gap. it’s mostly out of worry for you though; i mean he’s nearing closer to finally turning forty and he has a young daughter. he just wants you to be happy. although if you talk it out with him and ease his worries, then i think thoughts like those will eventually dissipate
★ sex with him wouldn’t be any different even if you were younger, he’d still have the same kinks. although he would treat you more gently just to make sure he doesn’t “hurt” you
★ his daughter doesn’t mind the age gap either. you’re sweet, thoughtful and you make her dad happy. the only way she’d ever question the age difference would be from an external factor like whispers from other parents that she overhears or if one her classmates says something about it. if this does happen though, you and gyeong seok would obviously clear stuff up for her
kang dae ho (player 388)
★ to be honest, when he first met you he didn’t even think that you were younger than him. it was only when you clarified your age that he realized that he was older than you. he still pursued you despite it though, because you were both legal adults and he found himself captivated with you; he does tend to get with older women though, more often than he does with younger women
★ he’s another one that gets a bit shy about the fact that he’s dating a younger woman. you and his friends love to tease him about it too, just so you can hear him stutter as he tries to figure out a comeback; if one of his friends make a bad comment about your relationship though, he’ll post tf up. but make sure to drag him away, he’s not really good in physical fights
★ he’s more shy when he subs for you. something about you being younger than him yet having all this power over him makes him red in the face (and rock hard in his slacks)
★ i feel like he’d try to coddle you, but you’d hit him with the “i had you crying and begging for me last night, i can take care of myself.” he’d pout when you’d brushed off his advances, but would eventually get over it; he just loves you sm
★ with you, he honestly acts like a himbo. don’t get me wrong, he’s not unintelligent, but it’s like he’s so starstruck with your presence that it kinda short circuits his brain; it makes him all the more lovable though!
hwang in ho / 001 / the frontman
★ this man does not give one flying fuck that you’re younger than him. in fact, it boosts his ego that he was able to bag such a beautiful young baddie like you; just know you’re gonna be as spoiled as hell
★ he’s so detached from people’s opinions that he could not give less of a rats ass about their opinion on your relationship. if it does somehow tick him off though, then he’ll just put a bullet in them
★ if you’re his significant other, there isn’t much of an opportunity to return back to society. he doesn’t want to risk you interacting with other people - especially if you were a previous player; you disappeared without a trace and then suddenly returned to society? it would cause more problems than solutions. he makes sure to make it up to you in other ways though, he doesn’t want you to be unhappy
★ he tries to hide your relationship from the guards, but since you can’t leave he eventually just lets it be. there isn’t much to do at the facility / where the games are held so the guards are constantly exposed to you trailing after him wherever he goes, curious as ever - you often ask him random questions and he regularly indulges in you to keep you satiated. i can just picture you trampling around the halls doing whatever you want in the most fabulous outfit that he gifted you - obviously breaking the rules - and the guards just give eachother a look, kinda saying “damn, if we did that boss would fire - a bullet at - us.”
★ sex with him is relatively the same. but with a younger partner, i believe things like thigh riding and a daddy kink will appear sometime after you get intimate together
the end! I hope you enjoyed <3!
© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 4 2025.
#★; ayuri’s sg headcannons#squid game#squid game 2#squid game season 2#park gyeong seok#gyeong seok#park gyeong seok x reader#gyeong seok x reader#gyeong seok player 246#player 246 squid game#kang dae ho player 388#kang dae ho#player 388 squid game#kang dae ho x reader#hwang in ho#player 001#hwang in ho x reader#player 001 x reader#squid game x reader#squid game x you#squid game fanfiction#squid game fanfic#squid game imagine#squid game headcanons
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
#sendbiceps with hyungline
a/n: i was bored... i dont know xD
Warnings: Suggestive Content? Crack fic, Humor.
(thanks to @aceheexx for helping me with input <3)
Lee Heeseung
You: I feel so bad rn. Send biceps to cheer me up 😩
The three dots appear almost immediately, and you settle into the couch, waiting for his response.
Heeseung: What biceps?
You blink, rereading the text. What biceps? Was he serious right now?
Annoyance bubbles up, and without a second thought, you leave him on read. You toss your phone aside and cross your arms, stewing in the silence. He knows exactly what you mean, but he just has to joke around.
Minutes crawl by, and your phone stays stubbornly silent. Heeseung, apparently, isn’t in a rush to make amends.
Then, just as you’re about to grab your phone and tell him off properly, it buzzes. One notification.
You open it, and there it is. A gym mirror selfie, Heeseung’s arm flexed just enough to emphasize the curve of his bicep. His black shirt’s sleeve is slightly rolled up, and the smirk on his face tells you he knows he looks good.
Your irritation dissolves into something warm. Before you can even think about responding, your fingers are already hitting "Save to Camera Roll."
A second notification pops up.
Heeseung: You better be smiling now
You: I was never mad 😌
Sim Jake
The dull ache in your head has been your unwanted companion for hours now. You’re sprawled on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling aimlessly to distract yourself. But even that’s failing. Feeling both bored and miserable, you shoot Jake a text.
You: I feel so bad rn. Send biceps to cheer me up 🥺
The dots appear almost immediately, and you wait, hoping for a quick pick-me-up. Instead, his response makes your headache throb harder.
Jake: I feel bad too. Send tits?
You stare at your screen, narrowing your eyes as if he can sense your disbelief through the phone. “Seriously?” you mutter to yourself, massaging your temples.
You: Are you kidding me right now? My head hurts, and you’re making it worse
Jake: I’m just saying... fair trade, no?
You contemplate leaving him on read, but he sends another message before you can decide.
Jake: Fine, fine. Ladies first, though
You groan, mostly out of exasperation, but also because your headache refuses to give you a break. Against your better judgment, you snap a quick shot—not anything too revealing, just enough to satisfy his ridiculous request. You send it with an eye-roll emoji for good measure.
Seconds later, his response lands.
Jake: Now that’s what I’m talking about
Before you can scold him, another text comes through:
Jake: Alright, biceps incoming. Don’t say I never did anything for you
And then, right on cue, a photo of his flexed bicep arrives. It’s angled just right, the definition in his arm making you pause despite your lingering annoyance.
Your headache doesn’t magically disappear, but for a brief moment, you forget all about it.
You: You’re insufferable
Jake: And yet, you saved that pic, didn’t you?
Touché.
Park Sunghoon
Work has completely drained you. You’re sprawled on your bed, still in your outdoor clothes, the ache in your legs matching the exhaustion in your mind. With a sigh, you grab your phone and text Sunghoon, hoping for something to brighten your mood.
You: I feel so bad rn. Send biceps 😩
He replies quicker than you expect, but his response isn’t what you were hoping for.
Sunghoon: What? Why?
You blink at the screen, then groan. Of course, he’s going to make you explain.
You: Because I’m exhausted, Sunghoon! Work was a nightmare, my feet hurt, my boss wouldn’t stop hovering, and I haven’t even had dinner yet! Plus, I feel like crying, and seeing your biceps would literally make my day better. Is that too much to ask for?? 😤
The typing dots disappear for a moment, and you wonder if you scared him off with your mini-rant. Then they reappear, and after a pause, your phone buzzes with a notification.
It’s a photo.
You open it, and your breath catches. Sunghoon’s in a tank top, his arm raised as he flexes just enough to show off his toned biceps. His other hand is holding the phone, and his expression is so open and cute, it makes your heart skip a beat.
A squeal escapes you before you can stop it, and you bury your face in your pillow, giggling like a lovestruck teenager. Kicking your feet, you glance at the photo again, unable to stop the wide grin spreading across your face.
Without thinking, you hit "Save to Camera Roll." Then, as you sit there, still staring at the screen, you wipe at the corner of your mouth, realizing you were actually drooling.
You: I love you so much, Sunghoon
Sunghoon: ...So it worked?
You: Of course it did. You’re the best boyfriend ever
Sunghoon: Good. Now go eat dinner before you faint or something
You giggle again, hugging your phone. Drained or not, Sunghoon always knows how to make you feel better.
Park Jongseong
The TV screen blinks off with a frustrated click, the remote abandoned on the couch next to you. You’d spent the past half hour scrolling aimlessly through movies and shows, but nothing seemed remotely interesting. Boredom gnawed at you, and with a groan, you grabbed your phone.
You: I feel bad rn. Send biceps 🥺
The reply came a minute later.
Jay: Why would biceps make you feel better?
You chuckled at the response, already picturing the way he was probably furrowing his brows in confusion.
Jay: If you feel bad, shouldn’t you do something else? Like eat ice cream or take a nap?
Your smile widened as you started typing, determined to wear him down.
You: Nope. Only biceps will cure me. Please, Jay, I’m begging you. Just one🥺🙏
The dots appeared and disappeared, then appeared again, and you could almost see him debating with himself. Finally, your phone buzzed.
It was a photo.
You opened it, and a giggle immediately bubbled out of you. Jay had taken a mirror selfie, his arm flexed in a way that made you pause for a moment, thoroughly appreciating the definition. He was wearing a baseball cap, pulled low over his face, but the telltale flush creeping up his neck and cheeks was impossible to miss.
It was adorable.
You: OMG, you’re blushing!
Jay: Shut up. You begged for this. And don’t screenshot it!
But it was already too late—you’d saved the picture to your camera roll the second you saw it. Hugging your phone to your chest, you kicked your feet, your earlier boredom completely forgotten.
You: I love you! You’re the best!
Jay: You’re such a handful. But… I love you too
a/n: who loves biceps? hands up!!
══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════
Perm taglist: @ilyunjina @nshmrarki @laylasbunbunny
@wensurr @immelissaaa @simj4k3 @vegahrid @03sunoos
@hollxe1 @moonpri @cherriesfine @badtzsan @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia
@heeseungbabydoll @wondash @renjiishot @demigodmahash
@strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @honeybunnee @jjongstar111
@enhaprettystars @zorange13 @jiminie-08 @chocowonnie
@enhamonsterghoul @mrsjjongstby @bussolares @kiripimaspillow
@sumsumtingz @norucking @tunafishyfishylike @txnwvc
@jakeluvrrs @firstclassjaylee @xnatqq @arclviie @aussie-boys-wife
#enhypen x reader#enhypen imagines#enhypen fic#enhypen#heeseung x reader#enhypen scenarios#sim jake x reader#park jongseong x reader#heeseung#enhypen fluff#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x you#heeseung imagines#enhypen heeseung#lee heeseung x you#heeseung x you#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon enhypen#park jongseong#enhypen sunghoon#sunghoon fluff#jake imagines#enhypen jake#enhypen jay#sim jaeyun#enhablr#heeseung enhypen#jay enhypen#park jongseong x you
460 notes
·
View notes
Text
i am on my knees for this man. and he’s on his knees for me. (this is roughly 5k words)
My Masterlist🌱
Silco x transmasc!reader
small synopsis: reader ends up getting beaten up- bro is NOT happy. Hurt/comfort with some angst, fluffy ending :3
Warnings: very brief mention of SH
You were the one soft thing in his life. The one thing that was untouched by evil, or greed, or hate. When he found you wandering alone around an entrance into the Undercity, he knew from the moment he saw you.. you were different.
You had been giving a homeless person, probably shimmer addicted and dangerous, food. And soft words. And your time. Something he never thought he’d see. Someone so gentle they would think about sewer rats like that. You’d gone so far as to sit next to them, pulling whatever you could out of your bag for them to have. “I’m sorry I don’t have more.” You had said softly, practically sending a shiver up his spine at the time. And then you had offered to bring more tomorrow.
And so, that next day he waited at that entrance. And around that same time, you came back with an extra bag full of food. Good food. Homemade. He watched as you walked along the wall, offering some to anyone who was there. And when you’d reached the entrance.. you saw him.
“Sir?” You’d asked with a soft tone. “Would you like something to eat?”
He could see you were hesitant- as you should be. You’d probably grown up being told of the dangers of the Undercity.. but here you stood, putting yourself in harms way for people who wouldn’t do the same for you.
“Hm.” He had hummed as his eyes trailed over you. “What is it?” He asked with a quirk of his eyebrow.
As you stepped closer to him with a shy smile, you opened your bag to show him. “Oh, it’s just muffins. Nothing too special, but I thought they might help.” Reaching into your bag, you pulled out a blueberry muffin wrapped in tissue paper and offered it to him. He stared at your hand for a moment before tentatively taking it from you.
“I see.” He murmured quietly as his eyes meet your own. Stepping into the light, he walked closer to you and kept his gaze on yours. “You’re a pretty little thing.” He mused faintly. “This is a dangerous place, you know.”
When you saw his full face in the light you shrunk back slightly, but only for a moment. Staying still, you look right back up at him, much to his amusement. He didn’t think he remembered a time when someone hadn’t cowered under his gaze. “You don’t seem like the rest of them” you said softly as your eyes scanned over his face.
“Well aren’t you clever” he chuckled faintly. “If any other topsider was this close to my territory.. I fear we’d have a problem.” He murmurs with a small smirk. “But you pose no threat to me, little one.”
“You talk like you’re in charge..” you murmur as you take a step back, eyes glancing over his slender form.
He smirked wider at your words, pulling out a cigar and a lighter. “That’s because I am.” He muses followed by the click of his lighter.
Before he can say anything else, you suddenly pull the cigar out of his hand, leaving him stunned as he looked down at you. “Don’t you know this is bad for you?” You huff as you look up at him with a scolding look. “What kind of leader doesn’t care about his own health?”
He stares down at you completely dumbfounded. The nerve alone.. you threw him for a loop completely. Before he can think he lunges forward to try and grab the cigar, but you quickly move away, a smile forming on your lips. “Hey! No- you’re not getting this back”
Your innocence makes him sick. But your smile makes someone inside of him burn. “You are nothing but a pest” he growls as he stalks towards you.
When you realize how angry he looks you can’t help but laugh as you walk backwards. “I’m trying to save your life here” you grin cheekily as you playfully try to get away from him. Before you know it you’re halfway through the threshold into the Undercity.
When Silco realizes how close you are into the dangers of Zaun he rushes forward, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pinning you against the stone wall. His breath is heavy as he keeps you there, staring down at you as he collects himself from his anger. “Never.. go in there alone.” He says lowly, a rough growl near your ear. “Do you understand me?”
Your smile had quickly been wiped away when he grabbed you, a surprised sound slipping past your lips when he pinned you against the wall. Looking up at him, you hesitantly nodded your head, your breathing quick and face flushed. “Yes sir” you whispered breathlessly, the tension palpable.
He didn’t even know you.. but he felt protective of you. He felt like you were his. Letting go of your shirt, his eyes softened as he looked down at you and saw how your face was flushed. “Forgive me.” He murmurs faintly, his eyes locked on yours.
Gazing up at him, you couldn’t help but gently reach up to straighten his tie, eyes shifting to the collar of his shirt. His gaze follows your hands, silently watching as you fix his shirt. “You’re okay.” You murmured softly. His heart skipped a beat at your words. You could’ve said ‘it’s okay’.. but you said ‘you’re okay’. Words he hadn’t heard in a long time.
Before you can say anything else he leans forward, hands on either side of you against the wall as his lips meet yours. A small gasp leaves you as he kisses you, but you can’t stop yourself from kissing him back. It only lasted for a few moments before he pulled away begrudgingly. “Come back tomorrow.” He whispered against your ear before he took a step back and left through the threshold, leaving you standing against the wall, his cigar and your muffin left forgotten on the ground.
That was weeks ago. Now he saw you almost daily, insisting that you kept coming back. You could’ve easily denied him- returned home and never came back. But you did. You always came back. Like a moth to a flame.
You made him feel like a teenager again, revitalizing his youth. Before you he couldn’t recall the last time he had been kissed. His scars and power always drove people away, understandably so. It took a silly little topsider like you to see the man he used to be.
Sneaking into his office after meetings, pulling him into random alleyways.. all just for a little time with him. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve something like you. He just hoped you would keep coming back like always.
Every day he would wait at the threshold between Piltover and Zaun. He would walk you through the Undercity, bringing you to where he could keep you all for himself. And every day you would show up with a wide smile, just happy to see him.
He always met you around noon, but one day you decided to slip into the Undercity earlier than usual. You knew he had been working hard recently, and you wanted to surprise him. You’d woken up early just to make him a special batch of treats, hoping to cheer him up from his recent stress.
Walking into the Undercity on your own.. the one thing he’d warned you of. You were a big boy- surely you could handle yourself for one day, right? You just had to put your hood up lay low, not drawing any attention to yourself. At least.. that’s what you thought.
You always met him at noon on the dot. For the first time in weeks you weren’t here at the threshold. Silco’s foot began to tap against the pavement with anxiety rising up inside of him. Had you finally figured out the kind of man he was? Made the smart decision to leave him and the Undercity behind?
After waiting for almost an hour he throws his cigar at the ground before turning and heading back into the Undercity. Taking his usual route to his office, he glares at anyone that dares look at him. Needless to say, he was seething. You had this hold on him- and now you were gone? Just like that? He was tempted to send Sevika to find you. But he knew he would look weak.
As he walks down one alleyway in particular, his eyes trail along the different people crouched on the ground, poor and probably shimmer addicted. He scoffs in disgust when he looks over them, seeing people begging for help.. something he swore he’d never do. Before he can turn the corner he catches a glimpse of a familiar colored bag, pausing in his stride as he looks over. That was when his heart stopped.
There you stood, hand and head resting against the dirty stone as you coughed weakly, blood dripping from your mouth. Your knees looked weak, and he could see bruises on your arms starting to form. Before he could say anything, he hears a faint noise slip past your lips. And then a few clear droplets fall onto the pavement. You were crying.
Within a second though, your sadness turned to anger. Pushing off of the wall and kicking a trashcan over, you let out a choked yell. As the volume faded, it turned into a weak sob, followed by you throwing your bag into the alleyway, which made people’s heads turn.
He’d never seen you angry. He’d never seen you cry either. It had only been a few weeks, but he’d started to believe those emotions didn’t even lie within you. He was stunned into silence, his body frozen as his eyes follow your bag before looking back at where you collapsed on the ground.
“Fucking take it” you muttered hoarsely as you wipe your eye with your wrist. “Take it all.” You snap at the people eyeing your bag. “The one thing I needed for myself- you took. Don’t bite the hand that fucking feeds you.” you practically seethe. Even in your injured state- he could feel the anger. He understood it too. The pain of being kind in a world that doesn’t return the same sentiment.
After a few more moments he quickly steps forward, kneeling down and pulling you against him. “What did I say?” He whispers against your ear, but there’s no chastising tone in his voice. Simply guilt that he wasn’t there for you.
You sniffle weakly when you realize it’s him, letting him pull you close. Resting your head on his chest, a soft sigh leaves you. “M’sorry” you whisper weakly. “Just.. wanted to surprise you. But I messed up.”
He sighs softly as he looks over the state of you. You have a black eye and bruises on your arms.. a cut here and there. He hoists you into his arms and stands up, but as he steps away only then does he see the puddle of blood on the ground. His eyes widen and he quickly looks over you, trying to see if it was from you or not. He uses his hand to feel along your back, but only when you cry out does he realize his hand feels warm.. and wet.
Making his way through the streets as fast as he could, he made it back to the last drop, storming in where all of his usual patrons sat. When the doors slam, everyone quickly turns to see Silco standing there with you in his arms and pure rage on his face.
“If I don’t have their heads within twenty four hours” he practically growls as he looks around the room. “I’ll pull every limb from every body in this room. Go.”
Your eyesight grows dim as you feel yourself being set on the couch in his office. You look up slightly to see Sevika standing over you, grabbing a roll of bandages. When you look to the right you see straight out of the door that leads from Silco’s office into the alleyway. You’d never seen him angry. Not like this. He had someone by their collar on their knees, punching them in the face repeatedly before tossing them aside with a yell.
When Sevika turns her back you stand up on shaky legs, walking towards the door the best you can. Managing to reach the doorway, you watch as Silco kicks a trashcan, letting out a yell of frustration. You didn’t know how much time had passed.. but you felt more lightheaded by the second. “Sil?” You say weakly, wishing he would be able to relax. His head snaps around, and when he sees you standing he quickly rushes forward and holds you up.
“Sevika- I told you to watch him!” He snaps as he brings you back over to the couch. Hearing Sevika’s sigh of frustration, you feel tears start to well in your eyes- especially as the shock starts to fade, leaving you with more pain than you’d ever experienced.
When Silco sets you down on the couch and starts to step away, you quickly reach out and grab his arm with a weak yelp of pain. “D-don’t leave me” you choke out as tears start to spill down your cheeks.
He quickly turns when he feels himself pulled back, and when he sees the tears spilling from your eyes his anger starts to mold into concern. He moves to sit next to you on the couch, pulling you into his arms. He positions you so Sevika can see your back where you had a small stab wound- probably from some dirt ridden pocket knife. He seethes at the thought of some low life leaving you in that alley. Wrapping his arms around you, one arm hooked under your own, he holds you as close as he can with your face tucked against his chest and the back of the couch.
“You’re okay” he murmurs softly against your ear, his breathing starting to slow from his previous anger. “Shh, shh..” he says faintly as you cry in his arms. “I’ll never leave.” Hearing a scoff from Sevika, he shoots her a glare. He knew he looked weak- he couldn’t stand it. But the way he felt for you outweighed how others viewed him. Adjusting you slightly so Sevika can treat the wound in your back, she gestures for your shirt to be taken off. He hesitates for only a moment before helping pull your shirt off, tossing the blood stained cloth aside.
Now- you and Silco had been fooling around. But it had never gotten quite this far; shirtless, I mean. Sure, you’d made out every now and then, but he was a busy man.. curling up into him as you tried to hide your embarrassment, you tense as Sevika starts to treat the stab wound. Shaking in Silco’s arms from the pain, you can’t help but cry more. It was embarrassing.. these were two of the most powerful people in the Undercity. And here you sat, crying in front of them like a baby.
Silco could practically read your thoughts when he saw how you curled into yourself. Resting his head against your own, his breath fans out over your ear. “You.. are so strong.” He whispers faintly so only you can hear. When he senses your confusion from his words, he pulls you a little closer. “Any other spoiled Piltover brat would’ve laid down and taken it.” He murmurs softly. “But I can tell you fought. My strong little thing.” He whispers against your skin.
Sighing softly, you relax in his arms slightly. “I made you cupcakes.” You whisper faintly after a few quiet moments.
Silco’s eyebrows quirk up and he looks at Sevika for a moment before looking back down at you. “What?” He questions softly as he brushes a piece of hair off of your forehead.
Sniffing slightly as Sevika tapes down the bandage, you sigh. “I wanted to surprise you.” You whisper quietly, as if embarrassed. “Since you told me you guys don’t.. do birthdays much down here- and you’ve been working so hard.. I guess they thought my bag had money in it. When they realized it was just food they..” you trail off faintly, curling into his chest more. “I should’ve listened to you.”
Silco practically feels his heart break as he listens to your words, looking down at you in disbelief for a few moments. When your wound is patched up well enough he motions for Sevika to leave, who does accordingly. Gently using his finger to lift your chin, he looks down into your tear filled eyes. “I will burn this whole city to the ground if I have to.” He says coldly, and you can tell he meant it. “You will never feel unsafe again. Never. Do you understand me?”
Gazing up at him for a few seconds, you gently nod before tucking your head under his chin. The two of you sat like that for a few minutes before your voice reached his ears. “Maybe I should’ve listened to my parents.” You whispered faintly, your shaking tone indicating how hard it was for you to admit that.
He tensed at your words, his arms tightening around you. He felt how blood rushed through his ears at the thought- the thought of you two never meeting. “No one” he says lowly. “Will take you away from me.” He growled.
You should’ve been scared. His anger should’ve frightened you. But.. you never felt more wanted. Maybe it was problematic- or unhealthy. But you could tell he needed you. Just like you needed him. You had been overlooked your whole life. Or if you were noticed, it was for an achievement. Not for you.
When he realizes what he said, and how it may have come off.. the tension fades from his body. He hugs you closer, his lips against your hair. “Forgive me.” He whispers faintly.
“Do you love me?”
His heart stopped when your words registered, and he swore the air stood still. Sitting up to get a clear look at you, he watches how you tilt your head up towards him, your soft eyes locking on his own. “Love..” he murmurs softly, looking off to the side. “Is a tricky thing.”
Gently leaning up, your lips brush against the underside of his jaw. “I think I might love you.” You murmur softly against his skin. His heart rate quickens at your words, and you can tell how he doesn’t know how to handle it. You’d only know each other for weeks- a few months at the most. Surely stealing a few kisses here and there wasn’t enough to establish love?
“You don’t understand what love is.” He sighs quietly, resting his arm along the back of the couch and resting his mouth in his hand as he avoids your gaze.
Your eyes narrowed slightly at his words, and you try your best to sit up to look at him face to face. “Who are you to tell me how I feel?”
He scoffs, shaking his head as he looks at you. “Whatever you feel for me.. it’s not love. Infatuation, perhaps. You’re too naive.” He mutters as he rubs his forehead. It hurt him to say those words, although he’d never admit it. He did love you. That much he was sure of. But is it fair? For a man like him to love again? Let alone a little thing like you.
“You’re so full of shit.” You snap as you manage to scoot further away from him on the couch, ignoring the burning pain in your back.
He quickly looks over at you, annoyance on his face. “Excuse me?”
When you see his anger bubbling slightly, you falter for a moment. “Y-Yeah.” You stutter. “You’re- you’re not nice to anyone else” you say quickly as you try to think. “Not like you are to me. And I’ve never seen you be soft with someone. And here you are holding me-.”
He rolls his eyes and stands up, turning his back to you as he walks over to his desk and leaning over it as he looks out of the window. “It’s pathetic. Truly.” He mutters. “How a spoiled little brat from topside finds one man to hug on him, and all of a sudden it’s love” he spits as he turns to look at you. He felt his heart ripping as he spoke. But he couldn’t stop himself. “Poor little you, all touch starved and unloved.” He seethes as he pushes off of his desk, walking over to you. “You are nothing.” He says dangerously as he steps in front of you, grabbing your chin and yanking you upward, making you yelp slightly. “Nothing to me. Nothing to the world. Nothing at all.”
When he lets go of your face you quickly grab it yourself, trying to soothe the ache in your jaw. There would definitely be bruises tomorrow.. his fingerprints left indented on your skin. Tears spilled down your cheeks as he spoke, and as soon as he turned away from you, you managed to stand up and grab your shirt, walking towards the door. He watched you leave, wanted desperately to reach out and apologize. But years of hatred had festered in his heart.. stopping him completely.
It was a wonder you even made it home. At least, that’s what you thought. Silco had Sevika tail you to make sure you didn’t collapse in an alleyway. But you didn’t need to know that.
Your parents were in a state when you entered the house, the both of them having dinner when they saw you standing there, battered and bloody. They immediately shacked you up in your room, calling the closest doctor to examine you.
That was four days ago. You’ve hardly left your room, deciding to stay curled up in bed, thinking about everything you did wrong. Silco had to be wrong. If you didn’t love him, why the hell did it hurt this bad to not have him around?
Meanwhile, Silco was in the same boat. He still went to the threshold every day, silently hoping you would return, coming in with violent optimism and putting him in his place, making him love you. But every day.. he stood alone. It was starting to eat him up inside. He couldn’t believe he’d done that to you. Said that to you. Touched you like that after promising you’d never be hurt again. He’d gone as far as putting out his cigars on himself. Just as a reminder of what you must’ve felt- having your heart ripped to pieces by a man who was supposed to keep you safe.
Needless to say, neither of you were taking this well. Right after you’d left that day, someone had brought him the sewer rats that had beat you. He spent the next two hours doing whatever he could to make them hurt.. taking out his own frustrations as well.
Coming up on day five of no interaction, he couldn’t stand it anymore. Putting on a cloak, he made his way into Piltover unnoticed. He knew where you lived thanks to Sevika, but when he saw the mansion your parents owned he knew he couldn’t just knock. He managed to case the house to the best of his ability, but he got lucky. He watched as you stepped out onto your small balcony connected to your room, and he knew where to find you.
Now, don’t ask about how he managed to climb up onto your balcony. Once he slid over the railing, he looked through the glass doors and found you lying in your bed, curled up into a ball under the blankets. He sighed softly when he saw how your head was hidden under the covers. He knew he must have torn your heart out. He could barely stand the thought. Managing to slip into your room silently, he rested against the wall near the balcony in case he needed to take his leave suddenly- like if your parents walked in. He pulled off his cloak and set it on your vanity before sitting in an empty chair.
What could he say to you? He knew his apologies would probably be worthless. He watched the way your body rose and fell in tandem with your soft breathing. He had never felt so alive as when watching you simply exist. Seeing you breathe, seeing you laugh.. it all reminded him of life itself. How to some.. there was good in the world.
After a few moments pass with him sitting and thinking of what to do, he suddenly hears a weak gasp. Looking up immediately, he sees you sitting up on your side with your back to him. He sees the way your body starts to rattle with sharp sobs that no doubt send shooting pain throughout your wound. You were having nightmares. And it was probably all his fault.
After a moment you turn with a wince to rest your back against the headboard, but you freeze when your eyes land on him sitting near your balcony. He saw the way your whole body tensed, and how you quickly tried to wipe your tears away so he wouldn’t see. With a heavy sigh, he gently stood and walked over to your large bed, sitting on the end of it with his back to you. Resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, the two of you stay quiet for a few moments, the only sounds being his tired breaths and your sniffles.
“Love is too complex of an emotion for my body to handle anymore.” His voice says quietly, but you heard him clear as day in the wide open room. “Often.. I wake up and wonder what it’s all for. Money, power.. humanity. You.. have ruined me.” He whispers faintly, his voice gravelly. “You are everything I am not. Everything I can never be again. Please.. forgive me. Forgive a damaged fool who burns up in the presence of your light.” He murmurs through tired breaths. “You deserve nothing as scarred as me. I wish I could say my flaws are only skin deep. But I’m afraid my heart is as marred as my face.”
After he speaks, his voice raw with honesty, he’s left in silence. After a few long moments, he tenses as he feels your arms slide around his waist, pulling him close as your head rests on his back. “I’m just a stupid kid- like you said” you choke out, voice raw from how much you had been crying. “And you’re so.. so much more.” You sob softly, arms tightening around him as you bury your face against his shirt. “You’re beautiful. Especially when you’re broken.” You add through tears, giving him the hug you always wished someone would give you.
Shaky breaths slip past his lips as he tries to comprehend your words. God, how he missed feeling human. Once he manages to breathe again, he gently turns onto the bed, grabbing you from behind him and pulling you to rest over his lap. Your legs hang over his thigh, still on the bed as he presses his forehead against your own, one arm around your shoulders and the other around your hips. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” He chokes out softly, his eyes closing as his hands rub over your clothed skin.
Sighing softly when he pulls you into his lap, you can’t help but snuggle into him with a weak yawn. Your face was red and tear stained.. you looked like you’d barely slept. “My parents will kill you if they find you here.” You chuckle weakly against his chest. “You’re not exactly the kind of guy they want me to bring home.”
With a weak smile crossing his face, he presses his lips against your forehead gently. “I would trust their judgement.” He murmurs as he gently rocks you back and forth ever so slightly. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily” he whispers against your hair. “You deserve better than that.”
Sighing softly, you lean up to press your lips to the underside of his jaw. “Yeah.. well. Believe it or not, I still feel safest with you.” You murmur tiredly. With a faint sigh he gently picks you up, walking around the length of your bed and setting you down, your head resting against your pillows. Yawning gently, you snuggle into your blankets and the pile of stuffed animals next to you. “go lock the door” you order sleepily.
With a faint chuckle he follows your command, locking your bedroom door before he walks back over to where you lay in your bed. Bending down to slip off his shoes, he moves to lay underneath the covers with you, pulling you into his arms with a contented sigh. ���Is this alright?” He murmurs softly.
Cuddling into his hold, you nod as your eyes start to close. “if you hear my parents just wake me up and hide under the bed.” You say faintly, melting into his arms as he keeps you warm.
Smiling against your hair he places a kiss to your forehead, his hand reaching up to rub your upper back soothingly. “Don’t worry.” He whispers against your skin. “This is our little secret.”
#mickey’s thoughts#x reader#arcane#x y/n#x you#x transmasc reader#silco x transmasc reader#x trans male reader#ftm mlm#mlm yearning#mlm thoughts#trans mlm#mlm#silco fluff#silco simp#silco x male reader#silco smut#silco x y/n#silco x you#silco fanfic#silco x reader#arcane silco#silco#arcane masterlist#arcane writing#arcane series#x you fluff#fluff#x you angst#hurt/comfort
128 notes
·
View notes
Text
beomgyu!spiderman au (part 2)
summary: just a few scenarios of how it would be like having beomgyu!spiderman as ur bf
genre: fluff
characters: beomgyu!spiderman x f!reader
words: 3.5
a/n: i wasn't done
warnings: danger! knives! guns!
part 1!
Your boyfriend was Spider-Man. The Spider-Man. The one who kept your little town safe, who swung through the streets like a silent guardian, leaving behind ripples of hope. The one who, despite the weight of a city on his shoulders, always stopped to lend a hand to anyone who needed it.
Just the other day, your grandma couldn’t stop talking about him.
“Oh, what a fine young man,” she said, eyes sparkling as she recounted the story for the third time. “He helped me cross the road and even carried my groceries all the way home!”
You had laughed softly then, a knowing kind of laugh. Because you knew the truth. You knew he wasn’t just helping some random sweet old lady—he had helped her because she was your grandma.
But the thought lingered longer than you expected. There was something deeply personal about knowing that Spider-Man, the hero everyone adored, was yours. That he went out of his way for the people you loved. That even in the midst of saving the world—or at least this small corner of it—he still remembered the little things.
It warmed your heart, but it ached too. How could one person carry so much? The city adored Spider-Man, but they didn’t know him like you did. They didn’t see the bruises he came home with or the weight he carried in the slump of his shoulders when no one was watching. They didn’t hear the way his voice cracked when he confessed how hard it was to keep everyone safe—how much he wished he could do more.
“You’re doing fine,” you murmured against Beomgyu’s neck, your voice low, trying to be supportive.. “You have to stop thinking that you owe the world everything. You don’t, Gyu. You really don’t.” Your arms tightened around him slightly, hoping that this small gesture, this closeness, could carry what words couldn’t.
For a moment, he didn’t respond. His breathing was steady, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way his body held itself too tightly, like a coiled spring. Finally, his voice broke the silence, barely above a whisper.
“I almost got Soobin hurt the other day.”
You froze, pulling back just enough to look at him. “What?”
He wasn’t meeting your eyes. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the wall behind you, as though staring into some memory he couldn’t shake. “Someone was following me. I–I didn’t even know. I don’t know how I didn’t know, but I didn’t—”
“Don’t you have those tingles? Like, when something bad’s about to happen?” Your voice rose slightly, more out of disbelief than anger. “What’s it called again?”
“Spidey senses,” he said quietly, almost like he was embarrassed to admit it.
“Right.”
He nodded, exhaling shakily. “Which is why this freaked me out so much. They followed me. Back to school.”
You felt your stomach drop. “Our school?”
He sighed, his hand coming up to drag down his face. “It was the day of the test. I guess my anxiety just… I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t even realize they’d been trailing me until it was too late. And then…” His voice cracked, and for a moment, you thought he might stop altogether.
“And then what, Gyu?” you pressed, your own heart racing now.
“Soobin,” he said, his voice trembling. “He was there. He was just…waving down to me, you know? Trying to make sure no one else saw me. But they did see him. They saw him.”
Your breath hitched as you imagined the scene. Soobin, his usual warm and carefree self, unknowingly stepping into danger just by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“God, Gyu…” You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. He finally looked at you then, his dark eyes full of guilt, fear, and something raw you couldn’t quite name.
“I can’t let that happen again,” he said firmly, though his voice wavered. “I can’t let someone I care about get hurt because of me. Because of this.”
You shook your head, your grip on his hand tightening. “No one got hurt. Soobin’s fine. You’re fine. But, Gyu, you can’t keep carrying this on your own. You don’t have to. Please…”
He didn’t respond, but the way his hand clung to yours told you everything. For now, it would have to be enough. But in the back of your mind, you knew this wasn’t over—not for him, not for either of you.
—
Beomgyu, the neighborhood’s ever-friendly superhero, had always been the happy-go-lucky guy at school—the one who cracked jokes even during exams and smiled at everyone in the halls. But lately, everything felt heavier. The shadows felt closer, and the weight of his secret life seemed to press down on him more than ever. No one really noticed the change, not at school, not in the streets where he swung between buildings. But he felt it.
Lost in thought, replaying every close call, every mistake, Beomgyu didn’t even notice the bird heading straight for him until—
“AUUUGH!”
The collision sent him tumbling through the air, momentum completely lost. He flailed helplessly before crashing down five levels and landing, with an undignified thud, in a dumpster.
“Dang,” he groaned, clutching his ribs as he tried to sit up. The stench was an assault on his senses, but at least the garbage had cushioned his fall. Small blessings, right?
He barely had a second to regain his bearings before he froze, realizing he wasn’t alone. Two figures loomed over him, their faces obscured by ski masks. Guns peeked out from behind their backs.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” one of them muttered, staring down at the very superhero who had been tailing them for weeks.
Beomgyu blinked up at them, then sighed. “What a night,” he muttered before pulling on a smirk under his mask. “Well, well, well. What do we have here? Are we heading to some kind of costume party, fellas? I wasn’t invited—kind of hurtful, honestly.”
The guy on the left swore under his breath, visibly rattled as he yanked a gun from behind his back and aimed it at Beomgyu.
“Ooh, wrong move there, buddy.” Beomgyu didn’t even flinch. A second later, a sharp thwip echoed through the alley as his web shooter activated, yanking the gun from the man’s grip and sending it clattering to the ground. In a single, fluid motion, Beomgyu swung up and ensnared the guy in a sticky cocoon of webbing.
“C’mon,” he teased, landing lightly on the ground. “We could’ve gone to the party together. I’ve got a killer mask, and I hear ski masks are making a comeback.”
“He’s fucking with us,” the second guy growled, pulling his gun and advancing.
Beomgyu tilted his head. “I mean, yeah. What’s the point of doing this gig if I can’t have a little fun?”
The second guy lunged, but Beomgyu was faster. Another flick of his wrist sent a web shooting out, pinning the man’s arm to the nearest wall. He struggled, growling like a trapped animal, but it was no use.
“Pro tip,” Beomgyu said, perching casually on a nearby railing. “If you’re going to pull off some shady back-alley operation, maybe avoid the guy who just fell out of the sky. Statistically, probably not your night.”
Both men glared daggers at him, though their predicament made it more comical than intimidating.
“Anyway,” Beomgyu continued, hopping down and dusting himself off, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I have homework to procrastinate on, so…” He shot another web, this time connecting the two robbers together like a makeshift package. “Consider this a group bonding exercise. Teamwork makes the dream work, right?”
As the distant sound of police sirens began to echo through the alley, Beomgyu gave them a mock salute before swinging away, muttering to himself.
“God, I need to start watching out for birds.”
—
Your head rested heavily on the table in your room, the soft glow of your desk lamp doing little to soothe the mounting frustration. The math homework in front of you blurred together into incomprehensible scribbles. You groaned aloud. Where was your genius boyfriend when you needed him? He’d promised to help with at least half of these impossible questions.
A sharp knock on your apartment window jolted you upright, a scream escaping your lips. It wasn’t a small sound either—it was the full-on, “I’m being murdered” kind of scream. To be fair, you lived on the 14th floor, and unexpected visitors weren’t exactly common.
When you turned, your heart still racing, there he was. Red and blue spandex clinging to him like a second skin, mask slightly crooked, and an unapologetic grin plastered beneath it. You sighed, pressing a hand to your chest.
“Geez, Gyu,” you said, walking over to unlock the window. “You need to start giving me some warning. I could’ve died from a heart attack.”
He slipped inside with practiced ease, his suit slightly scuffed but still intact. “Sorry,” he chuckled, stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll work on my window etiquette.”
As he adjusted his gloves, you couldn’t help but smirk. “Y’know…” you began, leaning against your desk and giving him an exaggerated once-over, “I kinda get why girls like this whole superhero thing.”
“Oh?” he teased, pulling off one glove and flexing his fingers. “And why’s that?”
“Well, you can kinda see everything,” you said with a wicked grin, poking at the firm outline of his abs. “Like, literally everything.”
Beomgyu groaned, swatting your hand away. “Great. I gotta talk to Mr. Kang about some suit upgrades. Hopefully, that includes censorship.”
“Even from me?” you teased.
“Especially from you,” he quipped before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. His lips lingered for a moment longer than usual, his way of apologizing for being late.
“Sorry,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “I kinda swung into a bird, fell into a dumpster, and got two guys arrested. You know, just another Tuesday.”
“What?” you asked, wide-eyed and incredulous. “You swung into a bird?”
“It’s a long story,” he laughed, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Anyway, which page are you on?”
“Uh…” you trailed off, a bit sheepishly. “Still the second page.”
Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. “Second? You’ve been at this for hours.”
You shrugged, your cheeks warming. “Math isn’t exactly my strong suit. It’s yours.”
“Alright, alright.” He grinned, pulling out the chair beside you and plopping down with an exaggerated groan. “Let’s see what we’re working with.”
As he adjusted himself to get comfortable, Beomgyu tugged at his mask, lifting it ever so slowly. Your eyes were glued to him, watching as the fabric revealed his face inch by inch. His messy, shaggy hair flopped into his eyes, the slight sheen of sweat only making him look more effortlessly perfect.
You hated to admit it, but every time Beomgyu pulled off that mask, something inside you… shifted. Maybe it was the way his sharp features softened when he smiled at you. Or the way his hair always seemed to look even better messy. Whatever it was, it made your heart do cartwheels.
He caught you staring, of course, his lips quirking into a knowing smile. “What?” he asked, leaning in closer.
“Nothing,” you lied, quickly turning back to your textbook. “Just… hurry up and help me before I fail this assignment.”
“Sure, sure.” Beomgyu chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at you. “But you’re staring at me like I’m the homework you’re trying to solve.”
You flushed, shoving him lightly. “Shut up and teach me algebra, Spider-Boy.”
—
It had barely been ten minutes since school started, but the routine was already in full swing. You and Soobin had a well-rehearsed system for dealing with Beomgyu's inevitable late arrivals, thanks to his extracurricular Spider-Man responsibilities.
You called yourselves Team Spider-Man. It wasn’t a title you chose willingly, but you had to admit it had a nice ring to it. Unfortunately, being the newest member came with its fair share of grievances—like finding out Soobin had been in on the secret way before you.
“So, let me get this straight. This idiot knew before me?” you had demanded, months ago, glaring at both of them like they were the absolute bane of your existence.
“Well, I was at home waiting for him, and… my aunt let him in,” Beomgyu had explained with a wince. “I climbed on the ceiling, and he saw me. What was I supposed to do, pretend I wasn’t there?”
Needless to say, you weren’t over it.
Now, as you sat in class with Soobin, the two of you brainstorming yet another excuse for Beomgyu’s tardiness, the absurdity of the situation almost made you laugh. Almost.
“So,” Soobin began, tapping his pencil against his desk, “diarrhoea excuse? We haven’t used that one in a while.”
You shot him a look. “Seriously? He’s my boyfriend now, Soobin. My reputation is kind of on the line here too, you know.”
“Oh, please,” Soobin snorted. “As if anything could tarnish his already perfect reputation.”
You hated to admit it, but he had a point. Beomgyu wasn’t just well-liked—he was practically a school legend. Teachers adored him. Students gravitated toward him. Even the custodian always waved at him with a fond smile. It was infuriating. (You just didn’t want to admit that you had to share him with well, everyone else.)
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed movement outside the classroom window. There he was, crouched behind a tree in his unmistakable red and blue suit, though the white gym shirt thrown on top of it was… new.
Your phone buzzed.
Beomgyu: Friday, send message. You: What? Beomgyu: Don’t send message. Send message. Beomgyu: DAMN IT FRIDAY. Beomgyu: I mean send message—I forgot pants. I have no pants. Send message.
You stared at the screen, barely holding back a laugh.
You: You don’t have an extra pair of pants?
Soobin: Well, this does tie in nicely with the diarrhoea excuse.
You snorted. “You’re unbelievable.”
Beomgyu: Wait, wait, wait! Are you saying the teachers think I’ve had diarrhoea this whole time? Is that why Mrs. Lee asked if I was okay two nights ago at the store?
Soobin: That’s why Mrs. Lee probably bought you a whole bottle of Pedialyte. You: Just stay put. I’ll grab you some pants. Beomgyu: You’re the best. Also, don’t let Soobin talk to the teachers anymore.
You sighed, glancing at Soobin, who was now snickering into his notebook. Sometimes, being part of Team Spider-Man felt more like babysitting a group of overgrown toddlers.
—
The three of you were crammed into the corner booth of the diner you occasionally visited, the one with sticky menus and the best milkshakes in town. The warm hum of conversation and clatter of dishes filled the air, but none of it distracted you from Soobin’s next words.
“Hey,” Soobin started, far too casually, as he leaned back in his seat. “Isn’t that the guy you said was cute?” He gestured—not subtly—toward the waiter, the one you had offhandedly mentioned finding attractive months ago, long before Beomgyu was even a consideration in your love life.
Your heart dropped. “What?” You shot Soobin a warning look, kicking him lightly under the table. “No. Absolutely not.”
“No, you definitely did!” Soobin grinned, ignoring the daggers you were shooting at him. “I remember it clearly because he was carrying that JJK keychain on his–”
“Choi Soobin.” Your voice was low, a deadly whisper, as you glared at him, teeth gritted.
Beomgyu, who had been happily sipping his milkshake until that very moment, set it down with deliberate slowness. His lips twitched, the kind of expression that meant trouble. He leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “So…” he drawled, voice teasing but edged with curiosity. “The waiter, huh?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This was before we started dating!” You said defensively, looking up at Beomgyu with wide eyes. “Way before. Ancient history. Irrelevant.”
Beomgyu tilted his head, his expression unreadable. “And where was I during all this?”
“How would I know?!” You threw your hands up.
Soobin, who was clearly having the time of his life, leaned in conspiratorially, voice just low enough to sound like he was helping. “It was the day you were over at Mr. Kang’s office.”
Beomgyu’s brows shot up in mock realization, and you immediately regretted ever confiding in Soobin about anything.
“Mr. Kang’s office, huh?” Beomgyu repeated, turning his gaze back to you. “So while I was working on tech to save the city, you were out here scouting waiters?”
“Oh my god.” You buried your face in your hands again, your cheeks burning. “It wasn’t like that!”
Beomgyu smirked, reaching over to flick a fry at Soobin, who was now laughing so hard he nearly fell out of the booth. “Remind me to block this guy’s number,” Beomgyu teased.
“You’re insufferable,” you mumbled, hiding your face behind the menu.
“Hey, if it makes you feel better,” Beomgyu said, leaning closer, his voice dropping low just for you, “I’m cuter.”
You peeked out from behind the menu, your lips twitching despite your best efforts to stay annoyed. “Debatable.”
—
Beomgyu was excited. It had been days—no, weeks—since he’d had time alone with you. Between school and his Spider-Man duties, quality time with you had become rare. Especially since Soobin was usually a third wheel, even on your study dates.
He swung through the city, doing a final sweep before heading to your house. “Well, isn’t Seoul just so safe today, all thanks to me,” he muttered to himself, breaking into a little moonwalk mid-swing.
But he spoke too soon.
A chilling scream echoed in his ears.
A scream too close to home.
A scream from near your apartment.
“BEOM–GYUAAA!”
His blood ran cold.
Without wasting another second, he swung towards the sound, heart pounding in his chest. As he neared, the scene came into view—you, clutching your bag, screaming as you struggled against a thief.
His heart dropped.
He never expected to see you in harm’s way. A wave of guilt and terror swept over him, gnawing at his insides. He felt terrible.
Beomgyu's heart raced as he swung toward the sound of your voice. The scream—your scream—kept echoing in his head, shaking him to his core. He'd handled countless situations like this before, but this was different. This was you.
The thief yanked at your bag, his grip tightening as you refused to let go. Beomgyu could see the fear in your eyes, even from a distance, and his blood boiled. But fear wasn’t an option now. He had to act quickly—and smartly.
Clinging to the side of the building just above the alleyway, Beomgyu scanned the situation. The thief was armed, a glinting knife in his free hand. Too close for comfort. One wrong move and—no, don’t think about that, he told himself.
“Hey, buddy,” Beomgyu called out, voice steady but sharp, “how about you pick on someone your own size?”
The thief froze, glancing around wildly until he spotted Beomgyu perched above him. “What the–”
Before the thief could finish, Beomgyu leapt down, landing behind him. His sudden appearance startled the man enough to loosen his grip on your bag. You took the chance to stumble back, clutching it tightly to your chest.
“Stay back,” Beomgyu said, his voice low and commanding as he positioned himself between you and the thief. “Unless you wanna find out how this web feels up your ass.”
The thief lunged with the knife, but Beomgyu was faster. With a flick of his wrist, a web shot out, sticking the knife to the wall. The thief panicked, trying to run, but Beomgyu had already shot another web, trapping him against a lamppost.
“Okay, now you just hang tight, buddy” Beomgyu said, brushing his hands off dramatically. “Police will be here any minute. And by the way, knives? Seriously?”
With the danger neutralized, Beomgyu turned to you, his voice laced with worry, even through the mask. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
You shook your head, though your hands trembled, and tears pooled in your eyes as the adrenaline coursing through your body began to subside. “I-I’m fine,” you stammered, voice barely above a whisper.
Beomgyu hesitated for a moment, his shoulders visibly relaxing now that he knew you were unharmed. He stepped closer, his gloved hands coming to rest gently on your shoulders. “You’re safe now,” he said softly, his usual playful tone replaced by something tender. He leaned in slightly, his forehead almost brushing yours.
You sniffled, a faint smile breaking through the tears as you raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure…you’re gonna kiss me in public, Mr. Spider-Man?”
Beomgyu froze, his masked face tilting in realization. “Oh. Right.” He quickly straightened up, clearing his throat. “You’re safe, citizen! You may now go home!” he announced dramatically, his hands moving to his hips in mock superhero fashion.
“Thank you, Mr. Spider-Man,” you replied, unable to hold back your laughter, though your voice still wavered with lingering emotion.
Beomgyu winked—or at least you thought he did—before muttering under his breath as he turned to leave, “You're not gonna let this go, aren't you?
You shook your head.
-
part 1!
#txt fic#txt oneshot#txt x reader#txt fluff#txt fanfic#txt imagines#txt scenarios#beomgyu x reader#tomorrow x together#beomgyu x y/n#beomgyu au#choi beomgyu au#beomgyu!spiderman au
66 notes
·
View notes
Text
So long, London - Shadow version
“I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist
I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift”
You were at home, the house you shared with Shadow. It was a beautiful and cozy place. If only you still enjoyed being there. At first, everything was fine; Shadow loved having you close, even though he didn't show it very enthusiastically, his small gestures of love towards you always made your heart melt. However, lately, he had been very distant. It had been weeks since he kissed you, and don’t even talk about intimacy. Shadow was always very busy with his work, going from mission to mission, trying to save the world, but that’s what heroes do, right? So why did you feel so… alone?
“Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.”
Every chance you got, you made sure that when Shadow came through the door, there was food ready, a comfortable and cozy place, a home that covered all the bad from the outside. But it was no longer enough. Every time you tried to start a conversation, Shadow refused, claiming he was too tired, had other things to do, and didn’t want to be disturbed. He locked himself in his office and you didn’t see him for days. You didn’t even share the same bed anymore. You tried to deceive yourself, of course, The Ultimate Lifeform doesn’t need rest, you thought, as you curled up and wiped away the tears before going to sleep.
As the weeks passed, you became immune to his indifference. Shadow didn’t try anymore, and neither did you. Both of you only shared the table out of habit. Is this how it feels when love ends?
“I stopped trying to make him laugh
Stopped trying to drill the safe.”
Right now, you were in the room with a bag full of your belongings. You couldn’t take this indifference anymore. The suffering was killing you, and he couldn’t even notice. You quickly grabbed what you could from your drawers and put it inside. Near the door, there was a photo. In it, you and Shadow were sitting on the edge of a hill, happy, smiling. When did all that happiness evaporate? Where did all that happiness go?
“Thinkin, how much sad did you think I had
Did you think I had in me?
Oh, the tragedy ...”
You pushed the photograph to the floor, the frame shattering into a thousand pieces at the same time as your heart did. Was this really what you wanted? The pain in your chest was devastating. There seemed to be no way out of it; you just needed it to stop. How could you stop a heart that lost its only reason to beat?
“I stopped CPR, after all it's no use
The spirit was gone, we would never come to.”
It wasn’t too late. You could still go back, leave everything as it was, and Shadow would never know. The thought of staying made your heart hurt less, but for how long? How much longer could you bear it? Before the pain consumed you completely, what else were you willing to give?
“And you say I abandoned the ship
But I was going down with it
My white knuckles dying grip
Holding tight to your quiet resentment.”
As you picked up the glass shards, you remembered the last fight you had. It was early, Shadow had promised he would spend the day with you. You woke up so excited, happy that finally your boyfriend would have time for the two of you, but when you went downstairs, you found him about to leave through the door.
“Where are you going? I thought we were going to spend the day together,” you said, fiddling with your fingers, a nervous tic that always appeared when you were anxious.
“Something important came up” Shadow said, opening the door.
“I thought I was important” the anger consumed you from within. You had spoken without thinking. “At least pretend that you’re trying” You quickly covered your mouth, as if you could erase what you had just said. Shadow just sighed and gripped the doorknob tightly.
“You think I’m not trying?” he asked, anger building up on his voice as he turned to face you “I always push myself, I want to live my life, to enjoy it. Just like you do! But the death of my family is on me, and if I wasn’t created, none of it would’ve happened. It’s on me, I’m the one who has to pay for it. It’s all on me, so gods forgive me if I don’t have time for spoiled stupid little brats” he said, next thing you knew is that Shadow had disappeared using his chaos control, didn’t even bother to open the door, leaving you stranded. You stayed there at the edge of the stairs, trying to hold back your sobs, but as seconds passed, the weight became unbearable and it all came out. The pain was so deep that you couldn’t breathe, as if life itself was slipping from your hands. That day, when Shadow came back, he didn’t dare speak to you.
“My friends said it isn't right to be scared
Every day of a love affair
Every breath feels like rarest air
When you're not sure if he wants to be there.”
When you told Rouge and Amy about it, they were ready to hit him so hard that even his ancestors would feel the pain. But you didn’t let them, because you loved him, despite everything… you loved him. You still love him, right?
“Just how low did you think I'd go?
Before I'd self-implode
Before I'd have to go be free.”
“You swore that you loved me but where are the clues?” you whispered as you held the photograph in your hands, caressing it, wishing to go back to that day. You inhaled, filling your lungs with fresh air, allowing yourself to feel that pain, hidden, denied, buried among what you thought was love. For a moment, you let it take control of your body, each second more unbearable than the last. You couldn’t go on like this, you weren’t going to go on like this. Shadow wouldn’t take everything you were and turn it to ashes. Yes, you loved him, but you wouldn’t let him drag you into his misery. He had taken what once was a home and turned it into a cold, dark place, where light couldn’t reach you, at least not until you allowed it.
“And I'm just getting color back into my face
I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place.”
You turned the photograph around, took the pen that was on the table near the front door, and wrote your farewell. You placed the paper back on the table with your keys, and as your heart agonized, you gave the final goodbye to your home, the only one you’ve ever known.
“Had a good run
A moment of warm sun
But I'm not the one
So long, Shadow” - Moon.
#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow the hedeghog#mobian x human#shadow x reader#sonic x reader#sth#shadow the hedgog#so long london shadow version#shadow au#sth au#x reader#shadow the hedgog au#sonic fanfiction#shadow fanfic
139 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚
[tfp] obsessed!starscream x human!reader
summary: still feeling megatron's claws all over his body, starscream goes to visit the only person who can let him forget the horrors of abuse - you
cw: hurt/comfort, angst, megatron abuses starscream, slight gore, established (but it's complicated) relationship, very ooc starscream, get catified idiot; yandere themes: obsessive thoughts, possessiveness and jealousy, emotional manipulation, clinginess and unhealthy behavior; valveplug with plot: gentle!dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!starscream, backshots (starscream receiving), reader uses a strap (referred as cock a few times), overstimulation, praise kink
word count: 5450
inspired by this ask, bless you for it anon 🙏 :
He isn’t sure what provoked the attack. Did he speak too soon? Stepped into Megatron's personal space? Maybe the warlord noticed his mind wandering for a few nanokliks, wishing the speech would end so he could return to you. Or maybe he didn’t need a reason. Perhaps no provocation was ever necessary for Megatron to lash out. To hit, crush, scratch, humiliate him in front of everyone. Sometimes, all it took was a bad mood and a single glance to spill energon. Often, Megatron didn’t need a reason at all to vent his fury. A whim was enough — a need to display aggression, to assert forced, undeserved dominance.
Starscream doesn’t want to think about it anymore. He’s suffered enough physically. Instead, he focuses on you, channeling the gentleness you always showed him, the calculated grace of your movements. You always knew how to make him forget, even if only for a fleeting moment.
Bruised and aching, he impatiently awaits the meeting’s end. He tries to remain inconspicuous, to seem smaller than he is, hoping to avoid further humiliation, because clawing out optics of every bot present is not an option. He longs to return to you immediately, but for now, he must pretend to be the model soldier, still invested in the cause. He wonders if anyone truly cares anymore, if anyone other than Megatron still remembers the original ideals of the Decepticons and adheres to them. Does even the warlord himself believe in what he’s fighting for? He quickly abandons the thought, redirecting his focus back to you.
When the meeting finally concludes, he forces himself to walk out with composed, deliberate steps, hiding the urgency in his pedes, the way they ache to carry him out of this hell. The icy chill of the ship bites at his spark, but he waits patiently for Megatron’s dismissal, mocking the absurdity of the situation in his mind. Once granted permission, he exits the bridge alongside Knockout, who naturally heads toward the medbay, assuming Starscream will follow, but is visibly surprised when seeker doesn’t join him, instead limping stubbornly away.
"Hey, Starscream, get your aft to the medbay!" Knockout calls out.
"I don’t need your help, Knockout," Starscream replies venomously.
"Oh, really? Whose help do you need, then?" Knockout retorts, voice dripping with sarcasm. "To the medbay, before I lose my patience."
"I’m not going anywhere with you," Starscream growls. "So drop it. As long as I’m still standing, I’m fine."
"You’ve got seven lacerations, three puncture wounds, and two gunshot injuries.” he starts counting on his digits “Not to mention countless scratches. I don’t know what kind of world you live in where this counts as 'fine.'" Knockout steps closer, grabbing the stubborn seeker’s arm. "Stop resisting and let me fix you, you idiot."
Knockout’s touch feels cold, piercing like a thousand needles against mesh, gripping tightly as if intending to crush his arm, though Starscream knows it’s just an illusion. He doesn’t want such an unpleasant connection, doesn’t want to be associated with metal and its rigidity right now nor with surgical tools or Knockout’s detached approach to patching wounds.
He doesn’t want to be on the Nemesis, feeling useless, insignificant, and discarded. He wants to be with you, to feel your touch, hear your voice. Now.
He can’t endure it any longer.
"Let go!" he snarls, yanking his arm free with a dramatic sweep, immediately stepping back, closer to you. "I said I don’t want your help, didn’t I?! So leave me alone and go buff that hollow helm of yours!"
Before Knockout can fire back with a sharp retort, Starscream transforms and takes off, leaving behind nothing but a cyan puddle and a trail of exhaust fumes and energon.
"Everyone on this ship has lost their minds," the medic mutters.
It doesn’t take Starscream long to orient himself, to calculate the route to reach you. He immediately sets off toward the coordinates, forcing himself to ignore the searing pain that courses through his frame, the open, leaking wounds that drip energon he knows will eventually hit the ground. It’s reckless to draw attention, but he casts caution aside, overwhelmed by the desperate need for comfort.
From a distance, he spots you lounging in a hammock, absorbed in a book, soaking up the warm rays of the spring sun. Will you be upset if he interrupts you? When he imposes his selfish needs, bringing with him vivid evidence of the horror he endured, likely ruining your peace and cheerful mood. He knows you won’t turn him away or be angry about his unannounced visit, but he can’t shake the feeling that his presence is always unwelcome. Everywhere.
No matter how you react, no matter what you say, he won’t leave. He needs to feel your soft hands on him, convinced they’ll erase the sensation of Megatron’s fists against his plating, help him forget the claws tearing through metal, the smashing against walls, and the weight pressing his pedes to the floor. You’ll envelop not just his processor but his body as well, wrapping him in an illusion of carefreeness and convincing him, with your unparalleled talent, that everything is alright.
He sees you tilt your head from the hammock, scanning the sky for his silhouette, a smile gracing your lips when you finally spot him. You wave cheerfully, setting the book aside into the hammock’s folds. But your joy quickly fades as his alt-mode hurtles straight toward you. Before you can escape or let out a shout, Starscream transforms mid-air, landing above the hammock with you caught beneath him.
He looks down at you, and a wave of relief washes over him. He made it. Finally, he’s safe.
“Boo,” he teases.
The journey cost him more energy than he’d anticipated. To prevent collapsing, he braces himself against the massive tree in front of him. Only now does he truly feel how drained he is, how much his injuries ache. But none of it matters — he’s here with you, and for the first time in hours, the pain dulls and the cold from the Nemesis dissipates.
"Holy shit, Starscream!" you exclaim beneath him. "You almost gave me a heart attack! Never do that shit again, understand?!"
"Good to see you too," he retorts with a scoff. His legs tremble and wings sag unnaturally low, yet somehow, he feels infinitely better than he did on the Nemesis. There’s warmth here, a sense of solace.
He watches as your expression shifts — you grow pale, scanning his frame with those beautiful, observant little eyes. Fear crosses your face as you immediately climb out of the hammock. A few droplets of energon hit the ground near your feet.
You don’t ask who did this or why. You know him well enough to understand why he sometimes arrives with injuries, armed with a plethora of grievances to share. But he’s never appeared to you so broken before.
"My God, Starscream, why didn’t you let someone patch you up?"
He rolls his optics. You don’t need to know about the desperation that drove him here, his overwhelming need to reach you as quickly as possible. "Because I had more important matters on my mind," he dodges. "Now, hand over some energon."
Skeptically, you drop the topic and open the shed where you keep a few barrels of refined energon, stored specifically for emergencies like this.
"Here you go, though I doubt this will solve all of our problems."
His wings twitch upward at the word "our."
"As if I don’t have everything under control," he huffs, limping toward a barrel and drinking it greedily, yet somehow maintaining an air of grace.
"You always do," you reply sarcastically, fully aware of how often he misses the subtlety of your playful tone. The faint smile hidden behind the half-full barrel confirms your suspicion. After finishing the first, he reaches for another.
"Feeling better?" you ask gently.
He takes your care to spark, letting it flood through his frame.
"Slightly," he admits because the word incomparably got stuck in his intake.
He tosses the empty energon container aside without care, locking his optics onto you as you continue to scan his injuries.
"I’ll grab a towel," you announce, turning toward the house.
Ha, you’re going to leave him? Now, when he needs you most? No, you don’t have the right. You can’t hurt him like that.
"You’re not going anywhere."
Before you can even touch the doorknob, you feel long, slender claws wrap around your forearm. They pull you back with a soft "eep" escaping your lips until you land against his chassis, your shirt now smeared with energon.
"Seriously? Do you know how hard it is to get energon stains out?"
"You’ll manage," he replies, his servos already playing with your hair. His wings tremble slightly, betraying the emotions he struggles to suppress. "I’ve never seen blue stains on that pathetic, soft armor of yours."
"Clothes," you correct him.
"Unimportant."
Holding you in his arms, he truly feels that everything is alright. The open wounds don’t sting as fiercely as they did moments ago, his battered body can rest, and his processor is enveloped by a rare sense of peace. Everything feels better when you’re near, when your unimaginable softness surrounds him, and your tiny hands stroke his chassis, careful to avoid every wound. It’s soothing, and comforting, to have someone who brings solace just to him. To belong to someone, as much as he belongs to you. Almost cozy.
But soon, merely holding you isn’t enough. It’s unsatisfying, incomplete. Always craving luxuries, he wants more, and he wants it now.
He leans in, kissing your neck greedily while his servo slips beneath your shirt, making his desires abundantly clear.
"Starscream," you chide, "there’s a puddle of energon under you."
"Good thing I don’t care," he mutters between kisses, with no intention of stopping.
“And will you start caring when I say I won’t let you into bed in this state?”
"Stop ruining the mood," he hisses. "I don’t need your berth to interface!"
"But I do," you reply calmly, unfazed by his accusatory tone. To emphasize your point, you cross your arms over your chest, creating a small but significant distance between you. Starscream loathes this gesture, hates the boundary it creates between you. He wants to erase it, destroy it because whether you realize it or not, you hurt him with your cruelty. You set a boundary he never wanted to feel between you again.
"Star, you know I only want what’s best for you, right?"
"And that’s why you want to leave me, huh? Fine, go ahead, leave and never come back if you can’t be bothered to pay attention to me!" He releases you, and this time it's him crossing his arms over his chassis, but defensively, for comfort. Without you near, an unbearable, chilling loneliness takes hold of him and he despises it. “You have the incredible opportunity to interface with me, and you’re turning me down because of a little energon stain? Foolish human, if only you understood what honor I bestow on you by allowing you to even touch me.”
"It’ll only take me a minute," you reassure him, cupping his mauled faceplate in your hand. Starscream tries to resist the trap, to demonstrate the seriousness of his words through his body language, but within a nanoklik, he knows you have caught him. He leans into your hand, now smeared with energon, savoring the scraps of attention you offer. His wings flutter joyfully, and his engines hum softly, imitating a purr, a telltale sign of his true feelings, unspoken and originating from his very spark. “You’re a good mech. You’ll wait for me, won’t you?”
He stomps his pede and taps his claws against his arm, wrestling with his thoughts. A single compliment, and he’s already willing to do anything you ask, just to earn another, as if enchanted.
"You have exactly one klik. And you’d better hurry because I’ll be counting."
You disappear into the house, and he battles the urge to follow, to accompany you everywhere in pursuit of the phenomenon that is your touch and its incredible power to immerse him in pleasure. What a cruel joke, he thinks, as a few nanokliks pass and the pain creeps back. His wings droop and his frame begins to tremble, betraying the weakness and torment he carries within. He doesn’t want to be alone — can’t bear the lack of you any longer, though not even a single klik has passed. Feeling as if the cold has intensified, mocking him just like it did back on the Nemesis, he hugs himself tighter.
"[Name]?" he calls out weakly, his voice lonely, pathetic, like an addict in withdrawal.
He steps forward but collapses mid-motion, his journey ending there.
"I’m here! And what, I made it in time, didn’t I?" you ask playfully, though your tone quickly shifts to concern when you see the trembling seeker. "Hey, it’s okay. I’m not leaving you again," you assure warmly. "I’m not going anywhere."
"Have you finally realized what an honor it is to be in my presence?" His self-admiration returns, a defensive mechanism to shield his vulnerable, true self. With the last bits of his strength, he suppresses his shaking as you guide him to sit on the ground, which he complies with. You shift slightly to the side to avoid the sharp edges of his armor on his knees.
"Star, it’s been an honor from the very beginning," you assure him, gently dabbing at his wounds with a towel. You press it against his chassis, ignoring his winces and hisses, soothing him instead with soft strokes along his cheek.
"So, you do have some sense after all. For a human, that is."
"Thanks, I try," you reply, moving to the largest wound and tending to it with a fresh towel. "But I’m afraid you’ll still need to see a medic, erm, what was his name again… Knockout?"
Oh, he dislikes how easily you utter another’s name, inviting its owner into his sanctuary. Jealousy claws at his spark, fuelling anger, because you should know and adore only his name. No one else is necessary for your happiness.
He regrets ever telling you the medic’s name.
A sudden urge to merge his glossa with your tongue overwhelms him. To erase the taste of the intruder. But he restrains himself when he sees the genuine concern etched on your face. Starscream doesn’t want to ruin this moment, this rare display of sincerity, though his jealousy remains. Instinctively, his wings raise higher, making him appear larger, desperate for your attention.
"Don’t say that idiot’s name," he growls. "From now on, I’m the only mech you’re allowed to address. Understand? No one else deserves it."
"Hm, good thing the only mech I interact with is you," you say. Starscream doesn’t bother hiding the smug smile spreading across his faceplate, his wings trembling with satisfaction… until you add "But I’m not kidding, you need medical help and best I can do is very basic care."
"Have you not realized yet that that’s all I need? Think, if I wanted to see a medic, I’d have gone to one instantly."
He dislikes the way you’re looking at him, as if you don’t believe him, even though he’s laid his cards bare for you. How can he explain that he sped toward you recklessly, risking everything, because he needed you, not Knockout, not specialized instruments, nor the familiar texture of an operating table beneath him? How can he make you understand that with just your touch, you’ve repaired him more effectively than the Decepticon medic could dream of? Would you ever truly grasp how much you mean to him, how much he’s willing to sacrifice for you? Probably not, he thinks bitterly. He’ll never be able to convey it through gestures, words, or even the most tender acts of affection.
"I just don’t want you to suffer," you confess sincerely.
His silence speaks volumes — it tells you that he can’t grant you this wish.
"Oh, Star," you sigh.
"What?" he hisses. "Do you think it’s that easy when you are being punished for merely existing?"
"I… I know. I’m sorry," you reply, your voice laced with such raw remorse that it’s as if you’d struck him. Once, he might have relished your guilt, your groveling for sins he never wanted to be atoned for but deserved. Yet now, he just wants to scrape that remorse off your face, to bury it deep and forever. He longs for your sincere, cheerful smile, the one that crinkles your eyelids, softens your features, and radiates enough warmth to thaw even his cold, egoistic spark.
But your expression brings back unwanted memories of today’s horrors. For a moment, his mind drifts back to the Nemesis bridge, to the echoes of his own screams reverberating against the walls, the thrashing, the scent of energon, and the tyrant treating his body like a toy. For a fleeting instant, he was convinced this time Megatron would truly break him, kill him, and he wouldn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to you.
He doesn’t want to remember — not here, not with you, especially when you need him. So he resorts to the one trick that helps him forget, hoping you’ll forgive him for it.
He buries his helm in the crook of your neck and begins kissing, silently pleading for interface, a counterbalance to the agony, because maybe if you frag him hard enough his mind will finally break, freeing him from Megatron’s torment.
"Am I clean enough for your bed now?" he asks between kisses. His servo slides under your shirt again, while the other finds your butt, massaging it without subtlety.
"Yes, you are now," you reply, your voice half-lost in a breathy sigh.
Starscream leans forward, almost pressing his entire weight against you, losing himself in you. If not for your gentle reminder, a hand on his chassis, he might have released his spike here and now, demanding mindless, wild fragging under the open sky.
"Bed, remember?"
"You and your impossible demands," he mutters but complies, fully submissive only to you. The change of location doesn’t stop him, though, he continues nibbling and caressing your delicate skin, undeterred even as you bend to pick up the soiled towels and rise to lead him inside.
"Say something nice to me," he demands, still clinging to you as you guide him toward the house.
"You’re relentless. Strong, because you keep pushing forward. W-warm…" Your voice breaks as his servo brushes against your chest. "And so beautiful. I couldn’t dream of a more stunning mech."
Vasking in the genuine praise, he moans into your neck and quickens the movements of his servo, now roaming all over your body — exploring, eager to take everything he possibly could for himself.
Your home is spacious enough for him to stand upright, his wings slightly lowered. Though such tight, enclosed spaces once felt like torture for the seeker, he’s come to appreciate your strange, human dwelling. Here, he feels safe, surrounded by the comforting presence of your scent. Because only here he can stop pretending to be someone and fully accept that he is yours.
Dropping the towels by the front door, you move toward a cabinet where you keep supplies for occasions like this, but having a leech clinging to your neck — one evidently unwilling to let go for even a second — makes it especially awkward.
"Star, wait," you plead. Turning your head to look at him, you find him too preoccupied with leaving love bites on your neck to notice your attempt to meet his gaze. He only hums softly to signal he’s listening. "How do you want to handle this?"
His answer comes without hesitation. "Make me forget."
You know exactly what he means. "As you wish, love."
You hastily remove your pants and underwear, reaching for the strap you’d prepared earlier.
"Go get ready," you instruct, nodding toward the bed. Aside from this brief, vague command, you leave the rest to him. He can decide in which position you’ll rearrange his insides.
"Starscream," you chide again as he continues to toy with your skin — both at your neck and your stomach, where one servo has come to rest.
He has no desire to stop touching you, to abandon the contact for even the short moments you need to prepare. Not when he so desperately needs you. Yet the tingling pleasure from his valve and the swollen spike tapping against the panel now dictate his actions. The directive is clear: make his processor think of nothing but you.
Reluctantly, with a trademark dose of dramatics, he detaches himself from your back, letting you do what you need. "Fine," he groans, making his way to your velvet berth. He rests his chassis and long, slender arms on it, sinking into the softness (though it still doesn’t compare to yours) and his interface panel retracts, exposing the toys you love to play with. Deliberately, he angles his aft toward you, ensuring you see how neglected he is, how much he needs you, tempting your self-control to deal with him immediately.
"How long are you going to make me wait?"
"Just a second," you soothe. He hears you fumbling with your endearing silicone toy, followed by the sound of your sharp intake of breath. Tilting his helm slightly, he glances back at you and grins triumphantly at the hungry, dreamy look on your face. The plan worked.
To entice you further, he gives his aft a calculated wiggle.
"You like teasing, don’t you?" you murmur, stepping closer and gripping his hips. You steady yourself, aligning the tip of your cock to the entrance of his needy, hot valve. "So beautiful," you whisper.
"Is that a rhetorical question?" he snaps back playfully. "You’re no better in that regard. How much longer do I ha — AHH!"
Before he can fully dive into another dramatic complaint, you thrust your cock deep into his slick valve, successfully silencing his tirade. His pedes shoot upward in response, and his previously relaxed, widely spread wings now draw closer together, trembling visibly. You enjoy the show before you, always having been fascinated by their expressiveness, especially since their owner likes to hide his true feelings. They’re a window to his soul, a delightfully honest indicator of how well you’re loving him.
"F-finally…" he whimpers, pushing himself harder against the silicone, eager to feel it reach the deepest parts of his valve, as though he wants it to enter even his tank, making his entire frame bask in the pleasure you’re providing.
He’s always considered himself a tough mech to please when it comes to interfacing — rarely satisfied, and even more rarely willing to open his panel to anyone. To him, such access is a privilege to be earned. But when it’s you exploring his inner workings with deliberate thrusts of your hips, Starscream spreads his legs wider, making your job easier. Isn’t he generous, letting you join the exclusive few who get to interface with him? Doesn’t he deserve praise and adoration for it?
"You’re not even trying…" he taunts, voice trembling. "You were supposed to turn me into your mindless toy, ah! And yet I still AHH!"
You cut off his rant by firmly grasping the base of his larger wings.
"Anything else you’d like to add, darling?" you tease, your rhythm steady and deliberate as you continue to thrust.
Still ramming your hips, pushing the toy deep into him only to let go immediately and repeat the process, you bend over him now having better access to the sensitive and delicate wings. You massage them at the base, where they meld with his back, drawing meaningless patterns and occasionally kneading, watching with a sense of triumph as the proud creature beneath you trembles all over and clamps his servo tightly around your sheets, exposing pure, unfiltered ecstasy.
"Starscream, we’ve only just begun…" you say, feigning disappointment, still caressing his sensitive wings. You can hear his engines roaring loudly, and his cooling vents struggling to keep up with the heat radiating from his frame, which has grown unbearably warm, pleasantly heating the tips of your fingers.
"Shut, agh! Shut up…" he growls weakly, his words slurred and broken by moans and whines.
Your pace is relentless. Your cock slides effortlessly inside, gliding against slick walls and pushing pleasurably, but it can’t savor the sensation with how quickly you aim to finish and bring this to its sweet conclusion. Yet he can’t pout about it when you’re so attentively tormenting his valve and vibrating wings. You care not just for his insides but his outer shell, too.
He feels as though his whole body is on fire, like his own anatomy will fail to handle the heat and explode, burning both you and himself. But he still wants more, wants to be gracefully ravaged, to climax so many times he loses count. To transform into your ideal plaything so you won’t need anyone else. His valve, his spike, his glossa, and digits. Only his. His, his, his!
“W-why are you, agh! so quiet?!” he stammers, oblivious to how he’s contradicting himself. “Don’t ignore me! L-love! Haah, adore! Worship…” he begs.
He’s no longer lying idly, passively letting you penetrate him. He begins moving his hips, quickly matching your rhythm and milking your shaft with even greater fervor and intensity.
“So beautiful…” you murmur, straining to reach his trembling wings with your lips. “So wonderful,” you add, mere millimeters above the gray metal.
You kiss the scars and marks left by particularly sharp claws that carved canyons into his delicate wings.
“My pretty Star, doing so well.”
Starscream can feel the care you pour into each kiss, and it’s enough to make his spike spasm and tremble, heralding fireworks. Yet he knows he must ask your permission to release the accumulated transfluid.
“Ah, ah, I’m… I’m close!” he howls, voice glitching, engines whining, and cooling fans falling behind. “I beg you, haah, please let me overload!”
You kiss him tenderly over another marred spot and allow yourself a few more thrusts to coax out those exotically strange but delightful cries of pleasure.
“Go ahead, my beautiful one, overload for me.”
Pink transfluid gushes from his spike, spilling over the panels amid loud screams and moans. But you don’t stop yet, knowing full well that one release won’t be enough, not with him and his inhuman endurance. Instead of pulling back, you lean in, running your fingertips over his sleek, intricate back now arched gracefully. You explore the valleys and ridges of his back strut, admiring its exotic design, unaware that the valve you’re docked in is trying to milk you, tightly clenched around your cock, signaling his desire for more. He wants more, wants you.
“You did wonderfully,” you praise and kiss his back a few times, earning a melodious whimper.
With trembling servos still clutching the bedding, Starscream is convinced he’s ascended to paradise. How else could he explain the overwhelming bliss you so generously bestow upon him? How can he rationalize the way his field of vision is dotted with hearts, his valve pulsing in time with your heartbeat? He has to stay here longer, to discover what else you have to offer him.
As if it were possible, he presses his aft harder into your cock, goading you to continue the play.
“W-what are you waiting for? We’re not done yet!”
“Ask nicely”
Oh, how he despises those games of yours, yet he eagerly awaits them, knowing they always come with a reward. Impatiently, he moves his aft, pleasuring himself now. The valve slides off your cock only to devour it again, savoring its dangerous proximity to his tank until his spike starts to shudder. He’s trying to entice you to move, to abandon your stillness, even though he knows it’s all part of the game, a fact you swiftly remind him of as you grip his hips firmly to hold him in place.
He turns his helm to gauge you, to test how far he can push, but seeing your chastising gaze, he stops teasing, pressing himself tightly against your hips once more and moaning from the feeling of disarming, carefree fullness that makes his valve burst.
“Hngh, please!” he pleads. “Ah, I can’t hold on any longer. I beg you, let me overload again, ah! Please…”
“Good mech,” you praise, resuming your thrusts, feeding his still-hungry valve with your synthetic shaft, dragging it over his abused, slick walls.
“Haah, thank you! Th-thank you!” he cries, claws raking the delicate bedding.
“Mhm, for my most magnificent mech, absolutely anything,” you adore him as he asked, placing kisses along his arched back, especially on his battered and tender wings.
There’s not a shred of romance in how you treat his valve. It’s primitive, animalistic rutting meant to rob him of breath from nonexistent lungs, to make his legs quake with excess pleasure, his claws pierce through the bedding completely, and most of all, to make him forget. The complete opposite of the tenderness and love you bestow on his back, ensuring every scratch you can reach taste your affection.
“The most magnificent,” you murmur.
After several more powerful thrusts, magenta transfluid spills onto your floor again, mixing with droplets from the last climax.
“The most wonderful,” you add.
Starscream climaxes again.
“The most beautiful.”
And again.
“The most perfect.”
And again. Again and again.
“Captivating.”
Until the moans turn into howls and only small, adorable pearls drip from his spike, as there’s nothing left to give.
“My Lord Starscream.”
Until your bedding is soaked with coolant, which also coats his chin.
“Star, for fuck’s sake, I can’t keep going.”
Until your hips themselves refuse to obey. You manage to push him into one more empty overload before withdrawing smoothly and unceremoniously, collapsing against the bed with labored breaths. You already know your hips will be sore tomorrow, but for now, you’re more concerned about the state of your thoroughly ravaged partner. To make sure you haven’t caused a short circuit in his processor, you turn your head toward him, unable to suppress a strange, barbaric sense of pride at the sight of his blank, foolish expression, glossa hanging out, optics rolled far back. Because you were the one who brought the great, megalomaniacal Starscream to bliss, and it’s a sight reserved solely for you.
“Hey, Star, how’re you feeling?” you ask gently, shifting closer to him and reaching for his helm, immediately beginning to stroke it. This seems to bring him back to life as he blinks a few times, as if reminding himself of the world he’s in, and finally focuses his optics on you. His drooped wings lift at the sight of you, his engines, now quieter, start whirring again, and — most surprisingly — Starscream smiles faintly but sincerely, with pure bliss, devoid of malice or mockery.
It’s hard not to mirror that smile and tuck it deep in your heart, a gesture he clearly takes as an invitation to move closer.
“Star?” you call, but he ignores you, more intent on invading your personal space than answering. He leans in to nestle his helm in the crook of your neck. For a moment, you think he’ll start nipping and sucking, demanding more, but he surprises you again, wrapping you in a loose but possessive embrace.
Now the grating sound of his engines shifts into a purr that vibrates through your chest, reaching your heart. It’s an odd sensation, like holding a working speaker to your chest, but you can’t deny that it’s pleasant and relaxing, almost lulling you to sleep if not for the distracting engine hum. Wanting to return the favor for this peculiar massage, you start gently stroking his helm, unable to stop thinking that you’re petting an oversized, cunning cat.
“You didn’t do… atrociously,” he finally speaks, dangerously close to your ear. “For a human, of course.”
You couldn’t have hoped for higher praise.
“Thanks. You were incredible too,” you reply, showing him how it’s done, though you doubt he understands, especially since his wings twitch slightly, pleased with the compliment.
For a moment, silence reigns as you both recover, but you’re forced to break it when you suddenly realize you need water. Turns out, constantly showering your insatiable partner with compliments can really dry out your throat.
“Star,” you begin.
As if he has access to your brain, he tightens his hold around you, his purring intensifying.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he declares. “You won’t leave me.”
You merely sigh and return to stroking his helm.
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
Such A Mystery - Part 10
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.
The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.
Warnings:
Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this. Labour.
Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 10 of 12!
“Breathe,” Victoria kept insisting.
“You are doing so well, Choupinette,” her mother cooed.
Colette was quite certain that she was going to die.
At least it felt like it.
The pain was overwhelming. It didn’t feel like her body could take any more of it. The contractions were so strong and the pain was blinding in its intensity. She wasn’t certain if she could do this anymore.
“I can’t do this,” Colette choked out.
“Yes, you can,” Victoria insisted. Her voice was firm and steady. “You absolutely can do this. You’re already so far along, you just have to push. You can do this.”
"Just breathe," her mother said soothingly, stroking back her hair. "You are doing so well."
But she wasn’t doing well.
She wanted Max. No, she needed Max.
She needed him so badly. She didn’t want to do this by herself.
Colette cried out in pain as another very strong contraction hit her, clenching her teeth through it. "Max," she sobbed. "I need Max."
"I know," Victoria said, stroking her hand. "I know you do. But you can do this. Just a little bit longer, okay? It won’t be long now."
She didn’t want to do this without him. But what other choice did she have?
A strangled sob escaped her throat as she clutched her mother’s hand desperately as another contraction hit.
“We’re going to need you to push now,” the doctor said firmly. “You need to start pushing with the contractions.”
Colette cried out in pain as she tried her very best to push like they were telling her to. The pain was blinding in its intensity. But it hurt. Gods, it hurt more than anything that she had ever experienced. It was like her body was about to rip itself in half.
"You’re doing so well," her mother cooed.
"Keep Pushing."
Another strangled scream escaped her. "Max," she sobbed. "I need Max. I need him. I can’t do this.”
Victoria stroked her hair. "It’s almost over, Colette. It’s almost over. Just a little bit more," Vic promised her.
Colette wanted to give up, she wanted to give in. She wanted the pain to end. But more than anything else, she just wanted Max.
Another scream was torn from her, a ragged cry of pain as a particularly severe contraction tore through her. She was certain that she wasn’t going to survive this. The pain was too severe.
"Keep Pushing."
"Keep Pushing."
"Push, Push, Push"
She didn’t understand how they expected her to keep going. She could feel herself flagging, she was so exhausted.
The room was a blur around her, dark spots dancing at the corner of her vision. The sound of her own screams echoed in her ears, the pain almost overwhelming. She thought she was going to pass out.
She heard the door open.
A small part of the pain-hazed part of her mind registered the sound. She thought she was hallucinating. Surely that wasn’t the sound of the door opening. Surely she was just losing her mind under the excruciating strain.
“That took you too fucking long,” Victoria snapped. Colette would have smiled, if she hadn’t been currently in the middle of pushing. Max's familiar voice echoed in her ears, and for one sweet second, the pain all but vanished.
And then he was there. Her heart jumped and a small sob escaped her. Max. It was really Max. He was there. He was right beside her.
Dry lips pressed against her sweat slick forehead. “Liefje.“
He was there. He was really there.
"Max," she sobbed out. "You’re here. You’re really here."
"Of course I am," he said shakily. He pushed back her sweaty hair from her forehead. "You didn’t think I was going to let you do this without me, do you?"
She wanted to tell him that, in all honesty, she had thought exactly that. If he hadn’t shown up, she would have had to do this without him. But she was too exhausted, and in too much pain to form the words. All she could do was clutch at his hand, desperately clinging onto him like a lifeline.
Max immediately threaded his fingers through hers, holding her hand tightly. "I’m right here," he soothed. "I’m not going anywhere.” He was giving her something solid to hang onto.
“Another push,” the doctor encouraged.
With Max holding her hand, Colette gave one last, desperate push.
She was certain that she was going to pass out. She didn’t understand how she was still conscious. The pain was mind-numbing in its intensity. "Once more,” the doctor said firmly. “I can see the head. Just one more push.”
Colette whimpered, her breath coming in short sharp sobs. "I can’t,” she cried in exhaustion. "I can’t."
"You can,” Max said fiercely. “You are the strongest goddamn person I know, and if anyone can do this, it’s you. Just one more push, come on, liefje."
His grip on her hand was so tight, it was almost painful, but that brief moment of pain was worth it. Feeling Max's presence beside her, holding onto her so desperately with his fingers threaded firmly through hers, it was the only thing that gave her the last little bit of strength that she needed.
With a long, ragged scream, she gave one last push, pouring everything she had into it.
She could hear Max beside her, talking to her soothingly, but the words were all blending together. Her senses were slowly fading. "Push, you can do it, you’re almost done." The words were coming at her from all sides now, swirling and echoing amongst the darkness of her hazy vision, and it was all she could do to grip Max’s hand, and listen to the sound of his voice.
And then it was over.
The searing pain suddenly stopped.
For just a moment, everything was quiet.
A cry cut through the sudden silence
The sound echoed around them, small and shrill and so very loud in the stillness of the room. A choked gasp of relief escaped Colette as she slumped back against the pillows, utterly exhausted.
"There you go," Max murmured, gently wiping back the hair from her forehead. "It’s over, it’s over now. You did so well, liefje. You’ve done it."
She wanted to speak, to say something to him in return, but her tongue was so heavy in her mouth it would hardly form words. Her mind was still a blur of exhaustion, relief and adrenaline. All she could muster was a small whimper as she felt his hand gently stroking her hair.
The sound of the infant’s cries rang out again, more strongly this time. “Here,” the doctor said, sounding a little amused. “Let’s get that little girl on maman’s chest.”
Through the haze, Colette felt an immense amount of exhausted relief, as the doctor carefully placed a small, wiggling bundle on her chest.
The baby was beautiful. Small and new and perfect, and Colette felt like the very breath had been knocked out of her. All the exhaustion and the pain was suddenly entirely worth it as she cradled the tiny baby in her arms.
"Hello, bébé," she breathed softly, the words coming out as a whisper. “I thought you were going to be a boy,” she choked
A broad smile covered her face as she gently stroked the downy soft tufts of dark hair covering the baby’s head. The small, tiny, perfect little fingers wrapped around her own, and Colette’s heart felt so full it felt like it was going to burst.
"I was right," Max said, the words somewhat choked. His voice sounded almost strangled, and she didn’t need to look to know that there were tears running down his face.
Colette looked up at him then, taking in with a mixture of affection and amusement how utterly awestruck he looked. He was crying openly, tears running unashamedly down his cheeks.
“We did it,” she told Max.
“We did,” He said, his voice still choked with emotion. “She’s so beautiful.” Max sounded utterly wrecked.
Colette couldn’t help but share his feelings as she looked back down at the baby in her arms. The small infant had opened her eyes for a brief moment, revealing the most vividly blue eyes that Colette had ever seen. “She got your eyes.”
“And your hair,” Max said, reaching out a hesitant hand to touch the soft dark locks on the baby’s head.
The baby gave a little gurgle, waving her tiny hand as if to reach out for his fingers. “Hello, mooi meisje,” he said softly, his voice still sounding a little choked, as the baby tried to wrap her fingers around his own.
"She's absolutely perfect," Colette whispered, unable to tear her eyes away from the tiny, perfect bundle of joy in her arms.
"Just like her mother," Max said, his voice hoarse. He stroked his finger down the baby's soft cheek, the most gentle of touches.
***
In the end…he made it with minutes to spare.
He couldn’t describe the relief that he felt when he finally burst through the door, to find Colette in the midst of giving birth. He had been so terrified that he wouldn’t make it in time.
And now here he was, sitting beside her on the bed, their daughter in her arms, safe and sound and utterly, utterly perfect.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of them both. Colette was beautiful, despite looking utterly exhausted. Her face was pale and slick with sweat, but she had never look more lovely.
And their daughter… Their daughter was perfect. Tiny, and new, the sweetest thing that Max had ever seen. He gently ran his finger down her soft, plump cheek, marveling at the sheer fragility of her.
And he couldn't stop crying. This was his family. His.
They had hoped so desperately for so long, and now there was their little girl. And she had been worth it. Worth all the heartbreak.
His eyes stung and his throat was constricting, but he couldn't help it. He knew he must look a mess, tears running unashamedly down his face and throat choked up, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered. They were here, and safe, and together.
He looked down at the baby’s tiny, perfect face, her closed eyes, her nose. She had Colette’s hair, and his eyes, and Max thought that if it was possible to die of love, he was dangerously close to that moment right there.
He reached out a shaking hand to touch his daughter’s tiny fist, his own hand dwarfing hers. She opened her eyes again for a brief second, and he could have sworn that she smiled at him for just an instant.
The tears ran more freely down his face now at that thought. His daughter, his little girl, his precious perfect baby, smiled at him. It might have just been a trick of his own overjoyed emotional state, but right then, Max was convinced that it had been a real smile.
"She's perfect, liefje," he whispered, his words coming out a little choked. "She's so damn perfect.”
"Dad, you want to cut the cord?" the doctor asked him.
The question seemed to take a moment to register in his hazy emotional state, but when it did, Max’s breath caught in his chest for a moment. And then just as quickly, he nodded mutely.
In a daze, he reached for the small pair of scissors that the midwife handed over to him, cutting the umbilical cord under her careful supervision.
He was in a daze, even when they took his daughter from Colette to check her over and bath her. "Stay with her," Colette told him softly. "Go on."
Max nodded, unable to find the words to answer to her. He stood up on slightly shaky legs, watching as the midwife took his daughter over to the small bassinet and started to check her over.
He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight of his baby, tiny and perfect and theirs. All the years of trying, all the hope and the heartbreaks, and now there was their little girl, safe and sound.
He got to watch her be bathed and then swaddled right into a soft pink swaddle that he knew he himself had bought because Colette kept insisting that it was a boy...and then he finally got to hold her in his arms and cry some more, because she was perfect.
He cradled her small, tiny form in his arms, his fingers trembling a little as he gently touched the soft downy skin of her cheek. Her weight was barely anything at all in his arms, and for a moment, terror gripped his heart. Was he holding her too hard? What if he hurt her?
"You aren't going to hurt her," Victoria said suddenly and he stared at his sister that sat down next to her. "You aren't. I promise you. Babies aren't as breakable as they look," she teased him softly. "Congrats, Maxie."
Max nodded, a little startled. He had honestly forgotten that his sister was even there, the arrival of his baby girl had taken up most of his attention.
"Thanks, Vic," he managed, his voice still choked.
He looked down at the baby in his arms again. They had wrapped her tightly in the pink swaddle that he himself had insisted on months ago. He had been so sure that the baby was a girl. And he had been right.
He wouldn't have cared either way, but...he had been right.
"She's perfect," he whispered, his eyes burning.
Victoria smiled, watching him with a softness in her eyes that Max wasn't sure he had seen before. “You’re a father,” she said simply. “How does it feel?”
“Like my heart’s going to explode with pure happiness,” Max admitted, looking back down at his daughter in his arms. “Like I can’t breathe. Like I’m dreaming. I don’t…I don’t know how to describe it.”
"Welcome to the sleep deprivation community that is parenthood," Vic joked softly. "You are going to be the best father," she told him.
It made him choke up. That absolute certainty with which his little sister said that, a hand on his shoulder. "You are going to be the best father to her," Victoria promised him fiercely.
Fresh tears welled up in his eyes as he looked up at his sister. “I’ll do my best,” he managed to say, his voice a little choked. “I’ll do absolutely anything for her, for both of them. Anything in the world.”
They didn't often talk about their childhood...about all the things that had gone down...the long drawn out screaming matches they could remember before their parents had divorced and the separation that came afterwards...
They didn’t like to talk about it. It was one of those things that they usually just skirted around, because when they brought it up, old feelings and emotions came up with it. And the fights weren’t pleasant to remember...
But in that moment, Max felt a profound sense of relief. For the first time, he was glad those fights had happened, because if they hadn’t…he and Vic wouldn’t have the relationship they had now, and he wouldn’t have learned, from all of the pain and heartbreak of those fights, what not to do. He never wanted his daughter to grow up like that. He never wanted her to feel the pain of a broken family like they had.
And he knew that he would do absolutely everything in his power to prevent that from happening. He and Colette would keep their family tightly together and protect and love their little girl with everything that they had.
No matter what.
A fresh wave of tears welled up in his eyes at the thought of that. "I don't ever want her to grow up like we did, Vic," he managed to say, the words still a little choked. "I don't ever want her to feel like we did."
"She won't," Vic assured him, her voice still soft. "Because you're going to be a great father. She'll grow up feeling loved and wanted and safe. I know that, Maxie."
His throat felt as if it was slowly closing up. "Thanks, bink," he managed to say, his voice cracking. "It means a lot. I..." His eyes stung, and he swallowed hard. "I couldn't ever thank you enough for being here. For being with us."
For coming even when he handn’t asked…for somehow knowing without being told what they needed.
His sister just smiled at him, her blue eyes, so similar to his own, sparkling. "She’s my niece," she reminded him. "You're not getting rid of me. I'm going to spoil her rotten, you know that?"
"You are going to have fierce competition, Victoria" Pascale said softly.
He looked up to where Colette's mother was tucking her own daughter back into the bed, fussing over her. Colette looked better than she had before, freshly showered, still exhausted, but no longer...no longer looking like she was going to faint any minute.
Colette was already sitting up, even though she would be in pain for a while, a testament to her usual stubbornness.
"Maxie." Colette didn't need to say more than that, as he stood and crossed the room, safely putting their daughter back on her mother's chest.
He sat on the edge of her bed, careful not to jostle her too much. "Hey," he said softly, wrapping an arm gently around her shoulders. "How are you feeling, liefje?"
"I'm okay," she said softly, resting her head weakly against him. "Sore. Tired. Happy. Went through 6 hours of labour, only to give birth to your and Charles' clone," she said drily, making her mother laugh.
Max smiled faintly, resting his head against hers. “Charles?” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
"She does look awfully similiar," Pascale agreed.
Max gave a small laugh, glancing back down at the baby. He supposed there was a resemblance, if one knew what to look for. “She’s not a clone,” he countered, a note of mock offense in his voice. “She’s a perfect mix of us.”
"With what I am pretty certain is Charles' nose," Colette said drily.
Max laughed faintly, reaching out to gently touch the baby’s tiny nose with his finger. It narrowed just so at the tip… “Maybe,” he conceded thoughtfully.
His daughter stirred faintly at the contact, a small noise coming from her mouth that sounded a bit like a grumble. Max smiled at the sound.
“And I’m pretty sure she’s just as stubborn as her mother,” he teased Colette.
She reached up to lightly smack his hand, but her smile was fond. “Like you aren’t just as stubborn,” she retorted.
Their daughter took that moment to complain loudly for once and Colette shifted her slightly, unbuttoning her pyjama top. At least one thing went down with absolutely no fuss whatsoever. A few minutes later, their daughter had greedily nursed, burped and was back to slumbering quietly.
"Are the three musketeers still outside?" Colette asked.
“They are,” Max confirmed, brushing a strand of hair back from Colette’s face. He had all but forgotten about Colette’s brothers.
"Get them," Colette said softly.
Max smiled. "All of them?" he teased. He knew that was exactly what she had meant."All of them," she nodded.
#max verstappen fanfiction#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfiction#max verstappen fluff#mv1 fanfiction#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fake instagram#f1 smau#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen x reader#mv1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#mv1 fic#max verstappen x you#f1 grid x reader#f1 grid fanfiction
132 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not Enough - Liam Mairi
Request: Would you maybe do a soft smut slash angst with liam where reader gets hurt in a challenge and storms off belittling herself and getting so down because her parents would have expected more from her and it all comes to a head when liam runs after her and she blows up on him screaming about how stupid she is and how she isn't enough and liam like shuts her up by kissing her and showing her that she is enough and how amazing she is - @elliot-rain
Masterlist | Support Me
The impact of landing on the mat runs through me as I lie there stunned, the pain in my leg barely noticeable. Shit. They were going to be disappointed me if they found out I got hurt and lost. I could already hear the lecture in my head.
”How could you lose?”
”You could do so much better.”
”You have a family name and reputation to uphold.”
I push myself up as best I can, ignoring the hand my opponent holds out to me. I couldn’t show weakness. I needed to be strong, even as my leg screamed at me to take the help. I limp off the mat, the crowd of riders parting to let me through.
”You ok?” Violet asks as I pass her.
I stop and turn to look at her, doing my best to hide my grimace. “Yeah, just going to go rest for a bit. I’ll be good.”
She purses her lips, but eventually nods at me. She clearly sees through me. She always does when one of us gets hurt. She knows what pain is like better than any of us, so it’s hard to hide from her when we are in pain. Before she can stop me, I turn around and do my best to walk out of the room. Now my challenge was done, I didn’t technically need to stay, meaning I had at least an hour till my next class. An hour to think over my mistakes, to explain them to my parents once they found out and no doubt demanded to see me somehow. For any other rider, losing on the mat would just be a bad day or their opponent just being better than them. But that wasn’t an option for me. My entire life I was taught to be perfect. No mistakes, no errors. Mistakes were punished, a lesson that they were not to be made again. I had a legacy to uphold.
I’m too lost in my thoughts to hear the rushed footsteps behind me until movement out of the corner of my eye startles me, causing me to jump and aggravate my leg, a pained hiss escaping my lips through gritted teeth.
”Shit, what happened?” Liam asks hurriedly as his eyes scan over me, his hands resting on my arms as he steadies me.
”A mistake, that's what happened.” I say as I avert my eyes from his.
I see him furrow his brow out of the corner of my eye, clearly confused at my words. “Mistake? Things happen all the time in challenges. It was nothing. You’ll come back better and stronger next week.”
I shake my head, squeezing my eyes shut as tears threaten to break free as my emotions bubble over the edge. “To me it’s not nothing” I mutter out, part of me hoping he doesn’t hear, but I know he does.
”It is nothing Y/N. No one in there is going to care you lost a challenge. It happens.” He almost pleads to me, and I know if I open my eyes his blue eyes will be soft and caring.
”It’s not the people in there I’m worried about.” I say as I open my eyes, a tear rolling down one of my cheeks.
Liam reaches out to wipe it away, but I knock his hand away before limping over to one of the few cut outs in the wall, looking out into the empty Rotunda.
”I come from a family where I have certain expectations to meet. An image to live up to. Nothing but the best is tolerated. Anything less than perfect is….”
”Is what?” Liam's voice soft but demanding from behind me.
”Punished.” I say as I look at him over my shoulder, watching the colour from his face drain. “Anything less than perfect, than one hundred percent isn’t tolerated.”
”You’re safe here, they can’t pun-”
”Yes they can!” I yell as I turn on Liam, wincing as my leg protests at the sudden movement. “I am not safe behind these walls. They provide no protection from what they will do if they find out how stupid I was to let myself lose! They provide no protection from being told I am not good enough. That if anything I do is less than perfect will never be enough. I’m not en-”
Liam’s lips crash against mine, cutting off my frantic words. The heat of his kiss swallows the air from my lungs, silencing every self-deprecating thought spiralling in my mind. For a moment, I’m too stunned to move, too caught off guard to process what’s happening. But then the warmth of his hands, one cupping my cheek and the other steadying my trembling arm, grounds me.
The world falls away—the walls, the fear, the doubts—all of it fades into the background. All I can focus on is him: the way his touch feels steady, the way his kiss feels like a promise, fierce yet tender, as if he’s trying to piece me back together with every brush of his lips.
When he pulls back, his forehead presses against mine, and his breath fans across my face. His hands don’t leave me; instead, they grip tighter, as if afraid I’ll shatter the moment he lets go.
“You’re enough,” he says softly, his voice rough but resolute. “You’ve always been enough. Stop doubting yourself, because I won’t let you tear yourself apart anymore.”
I blink up at him, my chest heaving from more than just the kiss. “Liam, I—”
“No,” he interrupts, his voice firm now. “Listen to me. You are stronger than you think. You’ve faced so much, and you’re still standing. You are more than good enough, and no one—no one—gets to make you feel otherwise. Not even you.”
Tears sting my eyes, but for once, they’re not from pain or frustration. They’re from the raw, unrelenting belief in his voice, in his gaze as he looks at me like I’m worth fighting for.
“I’m scared,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
“I know,” he says, his thumb brushing a stray tear from my cheek. “But you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Something inside me shifts, loosens, as his words sink in. For the first time in what feels like forever, the weight pressing on my chest lightens, just a little. And for now, that’s enough.
#fourth wing#fourth wing fanfic#the fourth wing#the empyrean#fourth wing x reader#fourth wing imagine#liam mairi#liam mairi x reader#liam mairi x you
65 notes
·
View notes
Note
could you do enhypen reaction to ur self harm ?? I loved ur last post
pairing: hyungline!enhypen × gn!reader genre: angst, hurt/comfort warnings: feeling guilty, obv self-harm, brief description of negative feelings and thoughts + personal tw for each member w/c: 640+ a/n: thank you for your request!! sorry that it took me SO long(( (it's been in my drafts since august just so yk :/)e also I did only hyung line I hope you don't mind. I tried to mention and describe different reasons and situations. some members include sad endings and feeling of hopelessness. I know that if you're deep down in this even words of your loved ones might not help. if you have this problem pls remember that you're not alone( take care of yourself properly! also sunghoon one is kinds crazy, sorry for that !!! likes and reposts are welcomed !!!
Heeseung
tw: comparison to others, jealousy, toxic perfectionism
You hadn’t seen each other for a few months. The reason of it was Heeseung’s job. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t stay with you all of the time. Three months of tour felt like eternity. However, it was finally over and now you could see each other again. Heeseung promised you to come over as soon as possible but you didn’t expect him to do it so fast. Forgetting yourself, you ran to the front door and opened it with a bright smile. Heeseung immediately hugged you, holding you tight. His hand held your head, burying your face in his chest. “Gosh I missed you so much…” He inhaled your scent with a loud sound. “You smell like home.”
You playfully giggled and pecked his lips, looking at him. He pulled away to explore your appearance with a smile, but it immediately faded as his gaze fixed on your thighs. “Y/n…” He whispered with fear, not believing his own eyes.
Upper side of your legs were covered in scars, recent ones. You absolutely forgot to cover them, too excited to meet your boyfriend.
Yes, Heeseung was perfect for you but that only made your self-esteem worse. You always thought he was too good for you, you never were on the same level. Heeseung wasn’t just an idol, he was a goddamn ‘ace’. Perfect at everything, you never noticed his bad habits, selfish thoughts or actions. He was like an angel fallen from heaven, someone who would never match you. This is what you thought. And when he left on tour you knew he wouldn’t be able to control or see new scars if you left them. Every time you got jealous, you would blame yourself for this feeling, making your mental statement even worse. Negative feelings were too much to handle but you were too embarrassed and ashamed to share them with Heeseung, knowing pretty well that even his sweetest words wouldn’t help you. This is how you found a way to express everything you felt, punishing yourself for not being flawless.
Your eyes looked down, searching for a reason of Heeseung’s worried expression. When you saw your scars, you felt ashamed and guilty.
“It’s nothing.” you answered, trying to sound casual.
“It doesn’t look like nothing.” Heeseung’s tone of voice was serious. It felt like you had never seen him with such an expression. His eyes met yours and you could see a deep worry and hurt in them. “Why have you done that?..”
You felt guilty. You didn’t want to hurt him with your words but you didn’t want to lie to him at the same time. “I…didn’t feel well.” The reason you named sounded so stupid that a sense of shame washed over you.
Heeseung’s expression didn’t change. It seemed like your words didn’t convince him at all. “You could call me… text me… anything but not that.”
“I didn’t want to bother you. You have a busy schedule, I don’t want to wear you out even more.”
“Y/n… It wouldn’t hurt me as much as this.” You went silent for a second, biting your lip.
“I didn’t want to complain to you, okay?” It felt like you didn’t understand each other at all.
“Baby, that’s not complaining when you tell me about your feelings. That’s normal. I’m your boyfriend, you don’t trust me enough to share your thoughts?” You didn’t say anything as tears welled up in your eyes. Heeseung immediately stepped closer, pulling you to him. Your hands wrapped around his waist, holding onto him as the last hope. He pecked your head, whispering. “Tell me when you don’t feel well next time, okay?” You slightly nodded, thinking that maybe it will help you to go through this. At least, you decided to give it a try.
Jay
tw: ED, fatshaming (reader to themselves)
Jay is the best cook you've ever known and everyone always says that they're jealous of your luck. Your boyfriend cooks for you everyday, he never fails to make sure you're eating well even when he's tired. However, for you personally this obsession with good meals never was for the best. Your relationship with your body never was the simplest one and even though Jay and you dated for a while, you managed to hide it from him. However, at the last time something went wrong and your boyfriend started noticing what attitude you actually had to food.
One day you were having a meal at your apartment and of course Jay cooked. Again. Sitting next to your boyfriend, you were picking at food.
“Is something wrong? You don't like it?” Jay asked, looking at you through his eyelashes with concern.
“No, everything's fine. Just not hungry.” You managed to say, trying to sound casual. Jay's eyebrows frowned and he pulled chopsticks away.
“Are you sure? You haven't been eating well lately.” This question suddenly made you annoyed. You didn't want someone to talk about your eating problems, so you tried to change the topic.
“Just not hungry.” The same words left your mouth and it made Jay confused even more. Something definitely was wrong and he just couldn't understand what exactly.
“Y/n, I know something is wrong. Don't try to hide it from me.” Jay's tone was serious and it only irritated you even more.
“I said I was fine!” You striked the table, that made your sleeves of shirt roll up and show off your scars. Jay looked at your wrists and his sight immediately catched those parts of skin you were hiding from him. Fresh scars were relieved for his eyes, blooming on your hands.
“Y/n, your hands…” Jay spoke quietly in disbelief. Your eyes immediately widened in realization. He saw them.
You rolled down your sleeves, hiding marks of the hatred to your body, eyes looking down.
“How long ago did you make it?” Jay asked seriously, clenching his fists. He didn't hear an answer from you. “Why?..” For a minute that you were staying silent, a lot of different thoughts ran through his head. Weren’t you happy with him? Was he a bad boyfriend? Why did you hide it?
“Jay, it's not your fault.” His flaw of thoughts was ruined by your quiet voice. “It's just… me.”
He absolutely didn't understand. His eyes looked into yours with desire for more explanation. He was begging you to talk about it.
“I-I don't like myself. My body. And I feel even worse every time you try to feed me. I'm fat. I can't let myself eat that much.”
Of course, he was so stupid all of this time. You had always been eating purely. Once he even noticed you judgingly looking at yourself in the mirror. And he did nothing.
“Gosh, I'm so stupid…” Jay hid his face in his hands, rubbing the forehead, trying not to bunch his head under the table.
“No, you're not. I never talked about it. You were just being a good caring boyfriend.” You saw how awful he felt and it made you feel guilty.
He quickly stood up from his place and you could see his watered eyes, when he slipped his hands away from his face. He approached you, gently pulling your wrist to the side to examine you. “Did you hurt yourself anywhere else? Are there any more scars?”
“No, Jay.” You settled him down with your voice but he didn’t seem to believe you. “Really. That’s all.”
Jay slightly sighed, closing his eyes. “Listen, I’m sorry.” You stood up and placed your hand on his shoulder, feeling even more guilty.
“You shouldn’t apologize to me. You should apologize to yourself.” Jay looked mad but this expression on his face was actually hiding his concern. He looked at you and was met with your sad puppy eyes that made him want to hug you. His hands pulled you to him and he pressed his lips to your head.
“I know…” You mumbled into his chest. “I just can't. I don't want to.”
“Baby… do you hate yourself that much?” Jay asked looking into your eyes when he lifted your chin up. Your eyes watered, giving him a clear answer. “I'm sorry…” He whispered. “I'll make sure you'll love yourself.”
You slightly shook your head in resistance but didn't say anything, ran out of energy. Jay patted your head, kissing your forehead, and while looking into his eyes full of love you thought that maybe he will keep his words.
Jake
tw: reader can’t express their feelings, bad experience in sharing problems
Jake always was clingy towards you but it never was the problem. His hands almost always were wrapped around you, no matter if you were in public or not, you would feel his touch on your back or shoulder.
One day you had a movie-night and Jake was clinging onto you as usual. Wrapping hands around you, laying his head on your thighs, caressing your skin, he almost touched your recent scars that were covering your shoulder. Everytime Jake moved or shivered you would slightly flinch, avoiding contact between his hands and your scars under the shirt.
Suddenly, your boyfriend pulled away from your thighs, holding onto your shoulder and you immediately gasped. “Ouch!”
Jake looked at you with worried eyes, pulling his hand away and holding it in the air. “Sorry! Did I grip too hard?”
You sighed, looking at him. “Yeah, a bit harsh. But it's okay.” Jake's gaze switched to your shoulder, covered with a shirt. He slightly pulled your sleeve up. “I'm sorry… There might be a bruise now. Let me look.” You immediately flinched from him. He didn't have to know about your scars.
“No, it's okay.” Jake's eyes switched to your face with worry.
“Baby, I'll just look…” He gently placed his hand on yours and you looked away, giving up. You knew he wouldn't leave you alone. Insisting would only cause more questions.
Jake's fingers slowly pulled your sleeve up and his eyes widened. “Baby… what is that?..” Now he could see your recent scars that were blooming on your skin.
There wasn't a certain reason why you did that. Sometimes negative feelings were too much to cope with and you, the person who had never been learnt how to take care of yourself and let your emotions out, would express everything, hurting yourself. You knew it was wrong but the thought of sharing your feelings with someone was too strange. Of course, you had tried. But it always ended the same. People would say you complain a lot and you would shut up, regretting letting out true feelings. But this time it was Jake. Jake who was your boyfriend, Jake who would never let himself hurt you.
Your eyes watered with a feeling of despair but you didn't dare to meet his gaze. Awkward silence took the air away, not letting to breathe. However, tension in the room suddenly disappeared with Jake's gentle voice. “Hey…” His fingers tilted your chin up. Jake’s worried eyes met watered yours. “Where are they from?..”
He looked so genuinely concerned that you couldn’t confess you were the one who did that with yourself. You bit your bottom lip, holding tears that started welling up in your eyes. There was no response. Jake started realising what your silent answer meant and his world faded away.
“It wasn’t you, right?..” he whispered, scared of his own words “You wouldn’t do that to yourself?…” Silence was making Jake go insane and he called you by your name.
“Y/n?..” his hands held your, slightly squeezing them “Please, say something. I won;t judge you, I swear.”
You looked in the corner of the room quietly saying only a few words “That was me.”
Jake’s jaw clenched but he managed to ask “Why?..”
“I don’t know… I wasn’t… feeling well…” your voice was slightly shaky. Jake leaned close to you, making sure you could see everything in his eyes.
“You have me. You can always share with me, you know that, right?”
“I don’t want to complain to you. You don’t know what you’re signing up for.” you warned him, recalling your past experiences.
“I don’t care. I want to make sure I’m doing the best I can to make you happy.” Jake saw your slight smile and leaned even closer to peck your lips before wrapping hands around you and whispering in your ear “Can you do that for me? Next time you feel bad… Tell me, scream at me, yell at me. As much as you need until you get rid of wanting to hurt yourself.”
You caressed his hair pulling him closer and whispering “I love you, Jake.”He smiled, replying with the same soft words “I love you too.”
Sunghoon
tw: self-harm in details, blood, low self-esteem, anxiety, jealousy, reader has REAL mental problems… (this one is crazy fr)
You knew Sunghoon pretty well as much as the fact that he only seemed to be cold. When you first met him, you thought he hated you for something or just didn’t like you, but after a while you found out you were wrong. Because of his cold appearance it’s hard to say what he’s feeling or thinking about. Still, you’ve loved him the way he is. However, your anxiety and self-esteem suffered the most in your relationship. Not because Sunghoon was too cold, but because you were afraid of doing or saying something wrong. Mental problems and fears took control of you and sometimes it led to hurting yourself.
Sunghoon went out with friends. You were absolutely fine with that until it started being late and stars covered the dark sky. Sunghoon didn’t answer your calls, didn’t reply to your messages and you started worrying too much. Was he with other girls? Did he lie to you about his feelings?
Minutes with these thoughts and attempts to call him again and you already found yourself in the bathroom with a blade in your hands. Fear of losing Sunghoon and hatred to yourself led you towards irrecoverable actions.
Consumed by your feelings, you didn’t notice the sound of unlocking door and footsteps of your boyfriend. He was surprised by not seeing you greeting him in the hallway and suggested you were sleeping. As Sunghoon carefully headed towards the bathroom he stood still in the doorframe, seeing you with bloody hands sitting on the cold tile. His eyes widened in fear and he ran to you, holding your shoulders and turning you to him.
“Y/n! Are you here? Do you hear me?” he enquired with fear slightly shaking you.
Your eyes shoot opened “Hoon? What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean? I came home as usual. What’s happened?..” he looked over you with worried eyes “We need to take you to the hospital.”
Sunghoon started lifting you up but you stopped him lightly tapping his shoulder.
“No… It’s okay…” You weakly smiled, tears on your cheeks becoming dry.
“It’s not okay. Your wrists are literally bleeding…” You could tell he was trying his hardest to stay calm but hysterical notes in his voice were telling the opposite. Sunghoon laid you on the bed and called the ambulance with shaky hands.When the call ended the room went silent.
“We need to stop your… blood first” He hurried to the bathroom for some bandage to negligently stop your blood. Fortunately, cuts weren’t deep.
“I thought you wouldn’t come…” you mumbled watching Sunghoon treating your wounds.
Sunghoon looked at you with confusion “Why did you do that?.. I don’t understand…” His voice was quiet, your heart breaking into million pieces.
“I’m sorry…” you whispered reaching for his cheek. “I thought… I thought you lied to me. You weren’t answering my texts and calls…” Your thumb slowly caressed his skin, wiping away a lonely tear that escaped from his watering eyes. Sunghoon gently took another hand of yours in his, rubbing the knuckles.
“My phone was discharged…”
Oh. That was so stupid of you. How could you overreact so much?..
“Oh… I didn’t think about that…” The room went silent again.
“Y/n, please… I’m begging you. Never do that again. Okay?..” Sunghoon’s pleading voice broke the silence. You hesitated before slowly nodding. “I don’t want to lose you like that.”
Your eyes watered, you started realising your mistake and what you did, what could happen. “I’m sorry, Hoon… I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The room was suddenly filled with a syren of the ambulance that flew from the opened window.
#enhypen#enhypen imagines#enhypen x reader#enhypen scenarios#enhypen angst#heeseung x reader#jake×reader#sunghoon x reader#jay×reader
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
SUNBURN
─── park sunghoon x f!reader s. all your kisses linger like a sunburn 739 words g. angst | © iseos library
the practice room lights blared down on you, hot and relentless, as the choreographer shouted counts over the pounding bass of the music. your movements were sharp, precise, a perfect execution of the emotions the song demanded.
the cameras cut, and you sagged against the mirrored wall, wiping sweat from your forehead. outside the room, sunghoon was laughing with his members as they walked through the hall, his smile practiced yet effortless. you watched him through the windows in the door, waiting for a flicker of something—a spark, a longing—but there was nothing. just a hollow echo of what you used to feel.
when the two of you made it back to your shared apartment that night, it was almost midnight. the city lights glimmered through the windows, projecting a broken pattern on the walls. you both had the rare gift of a free evening, but the silence between you felt heavy, like a looming third presence in the room.
“do you want to order something?” sunghoon asked, his voice neutral. he didn’t even look at you when he asked, instead focused on scrolling through his phone, already distracted.
“i’m not really hungry,” you replied. you fiddled with the hem of your sweatshirt, the fabric worn and soft from years of use. it was his, from before, when he used to leave little pieces of himself behind for you to hold onto. now, everything he gave you felt weightless.
“okay,” sunghoon put his phone down and walked over to you, his steps hesitant. he cupped your face in his hands, tilting your head up toward him. his lips met yours, and you froze. it wasn’t that the kiss was bad; it was warmly familiar, too familiar. it tasted of obligation, of something he thought he had to do to keep the pieces of your relationship together.
when he pulled away, you forced a smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tension in your jaw. “i think i’m going to shower,” you said quickly, not waiting for his response as you disappeared into the bathroom.
under the spray of the water, you pressed your forehead against the tile wall. your chest felt tight, your throat raw. you wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything that would make this numbness go away, but the tears wouldn’t come. you thought love was supposed to be a bandage; something that would cover the wounds and make them hurt less. instead, it felt like a sunburn, raw and stinging, impossible to soothe no matter how hard you tried.
by the time you came out of the bathroom, sunghoon had retreated to the couch, his laptop open on his thighs. you dried your hair in silence, using the hum of the hairdryer as a convenient excuse to avoid talking to him. he glanced up at you when you turned it off.
“you okay?” he asked, voice cautious.
you nodded, even though it was a lie, “just tired. practice was a lot today.”
“yeah, same,” he murmured, his attention drifting back to his screen as you fell into the quiet again.
when had it started? when had the words stopped coming, the kisses begun to feel like salt in a fresh wound? you both had been too busy, that’s what you told yourself. it wasn’t either of you faults. the schedules, the pressure, the cameras always watching, that is what drove you apart. and yet, it the rare moments you had together, you couldn’t bridge the gap. maybe you didn’t want to anymore.
you looked at him now, his face illuminated by the blue glow of his laptop. he was beautiful, as he’d always been. but the sight of him no longer made you heart race. instead, it made you ache with the weight of what had slipped away.
“sunghoon,” you said softly, your voice breaking the silence.
he looked up, surprise, “yeah?”
your lips parted, the words on the tip of your tongue, but they refused to come out. “nothing,” you said instead, your voice barely above a whisper, “goodnight.”
“night,” he replied, his tone gentle but distant.
you lay in bed that night staring at the ceiling with a heavy heart. you knew what had to be done, the relationship had no future, but you just weren’t ready. not yet. so instead, you let the silence stretch on, let the space between you two grow more and more until it became unbearable.
#iseos writing ࿐ྂ#enhypen#sunghoon#park sunghoon#enhypen oneshots#enhypen imagines#enhypen drabbles#enhypen angst#enhypen x reader#enhypen x female reader#sunghoon angst#sunghoon imagines#sunghoon scenarios#sunghoon fanfic#sunghoon x y/n#sunghoon x reader#enha x reader#enhypen fanfiction
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Forever and Always
Pairing: Lilia Calderu x reader
Summary: No one warns you about how dark the abyss at the cliff's edge can be, how hard it would be to hold on to the rocks as they kept falling around you, the weight on your shoulders nearly too much for you. No one ever does, yet she never failed at saving you from dying under it all, her warm embrace like a protection spell.
Warnings: overworked reader, burnt out, screaming, swearing, self-harm. I don't think I need to add anything else here.
Authors note: I read your post @madamspellmans-met-tet and I thought of writing this. I hope that it is what you had in mind and that it helps your friend find comfort :) If there is anything at all that you don't like, tell me and I'll change it, I wouldn't want to write something hurtful. I hope you like it.
Forever and Always
Rereading the message that had popped up on your phone you just couldn’t believe it. The bright light shone inside the cabin of Lilia’s old car, which she allowed you to borrow so you could get to work and your classes, your eyes going over the words three times before you let your head fall onto the steering wheel nearly making the horn go off. You could feel the tension increasing in every single muscle of your body, the pressure that had been inside your sinuses and the dull nausea that you had carried all day suddenly feeling as if they could wipe you out, frustration filling up every cell down to atomic levels, but you just couldn’t let it pass, it had to be finished tonight, no matter what. Unlocking your phone, you answered Amanda and told her that it was fine, that you could finish her part of the project and send it before twelve tomorrow, but in your mind you were cursing her and her ancestors and her ancestors’ ancestors and beyond. You knew she wasn’t sick, a friend you had in common had told you that she was going down to a party in New York and she would stay there for like three days or so. You could have told her to go and fuck herself but she hadn’t done shit in the past month, and the project needed to be handed out the next day, so you had to stay up all night now, maybe even beg your teacher to let you hand in the assignment one day late and pray that he didn’t deduct points because of it. And on top of that you had to do a double shift down at the coffee shop tomorrow because one of the girls had to have emergency surgery after a skiing accident and you were even more short staffed.
Your fingers were twitching when you picked up your bag from the passenger’s seat, throwing it over your shoulder as you pushed the door open and stepped out into the cold night, your breath steaming up in puffs that twirled up in the air as you locked the car. Your body ached, every bone seemed to hurt, and your throat itched so bad that you had had like three gulps of cough syrups and at least one Tylenol about six hours ago to try and get rid of it, to no avail. Resting your back against the car you closed your eyes for a moment. You were not ready for the disappointed look that Lilia was going to give you the instant you stepped into the shop, but your manager had practically ordered you to lock up tonight and you had had to label also the new arrival of milks and cookies in the freezer, which turned the extra hour into two and a half. You had been supposed to get home at seven and it was now close to ten, and you had hardly been able to tell her that you were going to be late, just a single message that’s she had left on read. With a heavy sigh you crossed the street from the car to the front door, pulling out your keys and pushing the glass open until the warmth of the heating system embraced you, but it didn’t relax you as much as you had expected, you still felt as if you were absolutely freezing. Noises were coming from the back, the clutter of dishes you thought, stopping for a moment when the bell that hung from the ceiling rung melodiously before they returned, unbothered by your entrance it seemed.
In normal circumstances you would have thrown your bag next to the door, not giving two shits, but you needed the books and notes that you had in there, so with heavy steps you made your way to the beady curtain, gently moving it aside, finally arriving home. Lilia was washing the dishes, her back to you. Seeing her body moving as she scrubbed hard, her shoulders square and obviously tense as she worked you wondered if maybe she was mad at you, but there wasn’t really anything you could do when you had to stay late, it was that or unemployment, and you needed the money to pay for college, so there really was no reason why she should be angry. At least you had bothered to warn her this time. But even if she was pissed at you she was far too alluring, and your eyes could not stop watching the way those veiny hands held onto the sponge and plate hard, knuckles nearly white, the way her gown held onto her curves gently as her robe had been discarded over the back of a chair, the flowy material swaying around her bare feet as she rinsed and left the plate on the drying rack. In the air a salty smell lingered, your stomach rumbling at it but the nausea that was still clinging to your insides seeming to disagree with how hungry you felt, the thought of food both appealing and at the same time a horrible idea, though your train of thought derailed when you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket, the quiet moment you were having shattered. Fucking Amanda again you saw, a new text telling you that she was very sorry and that she would make it up to you which you knew was bullshit, followed by a new message saying that Tom, another person you were doing this assignment with, could not finish his part either as he was sick with the same thing she had. Was that code for I’m taking him to New York to fuck him? She had to be kidding.
You were quick to respond, eyebrows furrowed as you typed an answer, telling her that you weren’t sure if you could handle it all, but she retorted that Tom would end up in the hospital if he did any work. Was she for real? Did she think you lived under a fucking rock or something, that you didn’t talk to people? Apparently so, because she finished by saying that she was going to be sick from all that talking and went offline. You hadn’t noticed how Lilia had turned around and was staring at you, drying her hands with a tea towel, the frown that had adorned her forehead turning into worry when she saw your pissed off face as you furiously typed. She hadn’t noticed how pale you were looking, or how deep the bags under your eyes were, but then again you applied so much make up in the morning that it was nearly impossible for her to have noticed when she woke up, perhaps five minutes before you were due to leave for work. She had seen you sick several times in all the time you had been together, but she had never seen you look so run down before, and that worried her. The frustration you were feeling was reaching a breaking point, but you could not afford a bad mark to taint your record, you needed to be a straight A student otherwise you would not get scholarships to investigate, just like you had always dreamt of, you had to push through. You would rest when all this was over, you thought, a little white lie that you had been telling yourself for years now.
Dumping your bag on the kitchen table you hadn’t even looked up to meet Lilia’s eyes, you were far too focused on getting the work done before you collapsed, pulling out several thick books you had borrowed from the library along with the close to four hundred pages worth of notes you had been taking since the beginning of the year, photocopies, schemes and drawings included. Lilia had not moved from her spot, not even an inch, her head following your frame as you headed for the drawers next to the TV and pulled out an old laptop you had been gifted like three years ago, turning back to the table only to lock eyes with her. She looked so beautiful tonight, why did she look so pretty? It wasn’t your anniversary or her birthday, maybe it wasn’t a special occasion, maybe she looked like that always and you had only noticed now, after not having properly looked at her in over a week. There was pang of guilt in your heart, but you couldn’t waste more time, and yet breaking her gaze was such a hard task, she seemed to be pulling you into her arms simply by raising her eyebrows ever so slightly, almost in a questioning manner, but you looked away and sat down. You were actively avoiding talking to her? She felt as if you were pushing her aside, away from you with this behaviour, hurt and anger mingling in her chest, fury glazing her vision as she bent to open the oven. It took the computer a few minutes to unlock, but once the wallpaper and icons were staring back at you, a picture of you and Lilia during a weekend trip to the Grand Canyon, you quickly clicked on the Word document titled “Ontogeny in Ammonoids”, the twenty pages you had written greeting you.
You loved your degree, but you hated it at the same time, scrolling through the pictures and diagrams you had both taken from books and done yourself with the information collected and provided by your teacher. You had loved it when you had first started it, but now you had to add at least twenty more pages, and you didn’t even know where to begin, your head resting on your hands for an instant, closing your eyes as you felt a heavy headache forming. What were you supposed to write? God, you had no fucking clue what their parts were, it was as if your brain had turned to sudden mush and you could not even comprehend a basic sentence, let alone carry on with this bloody project. Suddenly there was a loud bang right next to the computer, your head jerking up so fast that a whipping feeling hit your neck, rendering you immobile for a few moments, eyes looking at an oven tray that had landed on top of your notes, the dark sauce of a rotisserie chicken splattered over the words, staining and making some of the ink run.
-Lilia! What the hell?! – you pushed the tray hurriedly to the side, inspecting the damage done as anger rose in your veins. Looking up briefly at her you saw an angry smirk on her lips, hands on her hips. So now she wanted to be a bitch, great, as if you needed more people testing your patience.
-Oh, you are home, I didn’t see you there.
-What the fuck?!
-Don’t curse at me Y/N!
-What the hell do you expect when you’ve ruined my notes?!
-I expect you to look at me when you come home, for you to give me an explanation as to why you its ten and you’ve just only arrived!
-I can’t say no to my manager Lilia, you know this! – some of the words were unintelligible, impossible to fix unless you redid the entire page, front and back, anger spiking to the point that you feared anything at all could make it burst. And to top it all you were wasting time! You had deadlines and you need to be at the coffee shop at seven! You were going to have to pull an all-nighter– Fuck, I’m going to have to redo this.
-As if you do anything else.
You glared up at her, but the anger subsided when suddenly you had a coughing fit, turning your face away from her and covering your mouth with your hand. Lilia had turned around at the speed of light upon hearing you, bending her body over the kitchen table to check on you, worry painting her features. All the fight had left your body after that, the exhaustion slamming onto your body without mercy, as you let it fall back onto the chair. Lilia was still upset with you, but after what she had just seen it was obvious that you weren’t just tired, no, you were getting sick, and yet you turned your attention back to the computer, sighing deeply when you looked at your notes and then back at the screen. She felt quite guilty about what she had done, thinking that perhaps it had been rather childish form her part, so in an attempt to fix it she moved the tray away to plate some of the chicken along with the sauce, putting it aside while she went to grab a glass of water, adding a bit of lemon and a hint of honey, a little remedy she had been using for centuries now. Once that was done, she turned and rounded one of the corners of the table to sit on the only chair that laid facing you, but your eyes were glued to the screen, typing and then deleting only to type again, and you still didn’t like what you were writing. The touch of Lilia’s soft skin on your hand made you pause, turning your blurry eyes in her direction. Maybe you had been rude, but you had spent a lot of time working on those notes, rewriting them would take a couple of hours for sure.
-Tell me the truth Y/N, are you okay?
-I’m fine, I’m just tired.
-I’ve seen you tired, and you are never like this.
-I’m sorry, but what you did was really shitty.
-I know, I’m sorry. I was angry; you’ve never come home like this, without even saying a word. Maybe you need to stop and sleep.
-I would love to, but I can’t. Amanda and Tom bailed on me, and we have to upload this to the net tomorrow and there’s so much work left.
-Can’t you talk with your teacher, get an extension?
-He’s an ass, he won’t do it, he doesn’t care. I just need to finish this, Lilia. I promise I’ll rest when I’m done.
-I’m giving you one hour, if you are not done in an hour, I’m sorry, but you are not finishing it, I’m dragging you to bed.
-Fine. Just… let me get on with it.
-Alright. You have dinner behind your computer, and don’t tell me that you are not hungry because I know that you haven’t had a bite to eat since lunch time, if you’ve had lunch. Just eat, okay?
You nodded without much effort, knowing perfectly well that you were not really going to have much of the chicken, but you did grab the water, the warm liquid soothing your sore throat slightly. Lilia could feel the way you were melting, the way your resolution was slipping, but she also knew that you were not going to really stop, you were unable to, she had to let you get to a certain point, she just hoped that she didn’t accidentally let you go past said point. With a quiet sigh she stood and kissed your forehead, heading back to tidy the dishes and clean the sink as you poured yourself back into the assignment. Word after word you seemed to be filling up pages, adding pictures and moving in between the text and the references, but your body was giving up on you. You could feel the way your fingers were heavy over the keyboard, how your eyesight was becoming blurry, the paragraphs you had written dancing before you, coughing every few minutes into the crook of your elbow and yet you did not stop, you couldn’t stop. Lilia’s alarms were going off every time she heard you, but she had promised you an hour, though it was becoming harder and harder to keep her promise when her eyes could see from her spot on the couch how you were getting progressively worse, to the point that half of your precious notes had slipped down to the floor and you hadn’t even noticed.
She should have stopped you then, a mistake from her part, she had simply thought it a slip up, but when she heard you curse under your breath and beginning to delete like a maniac, a frustrated huff escaping your lips before you banged your head on the kitchen table, she knew she had stop you right away. It had not even been thirty minutes, but she just couldn’t let you carry on, pushing herself off the couch and walking towards your spot with quick steps. The wood dug onto your forehead, but you didn’t care about it much, not when you had spent three whole pages writing about the wrong group of cephalopods and your whole head throbbed as your headache worsened, a pulsating feeling behind your eyes that increased the pressure on your sinuses as well. You felt like utter shit, actually that might not even cover it, your face squashed against the table, your arms hanging from your sides like ropes that seemed to weight as if they were lead, so heavy that you just couldn’t lift them back onto the table. Sitting once again on the chair that was facing you, Lilia took your face in between her hands and pushed you up until you were resting against the back of the chair, cradling your cheeks, noticing that your eyes were glassy, your face slightly clammy to the touch, cheeks blushing but it wasn’t due to something cheeky she had said, no, Lilia could feel how hot your skin felt against her palm. That’s it, she thought.
-You are done, darling. – her voice was quiet, nearly a whisper, but it boomed against the bones of your skull.
-What? No, I still have at least six other points that I need to address.
-I don’t care Y/N. You are sick, you need to sleep.
-No, I don’t! – you pushed her touch from you, missing the coolness of her hands against your skin the instant they left you even though they were still holding onto your hands, fingers intertwined, but you needed to carry on. She had said an hour, and it had only been twenty minutes, you could push through, you could do it. – I need to get this done or I will fail.
-Then fail.
-What? – there was the anger again, rising and bubbling inside your chest as you pushed her hands off your body completely, sitting properly back in front of the computer while still looking at Lilia utterly dumbfounded at her words. - You know how important this is for me!
-Yes, but I’m not going to let it practically kill you!
-Wow, that’s just being overdramatic, don’t you think?
-Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?! You are two seconds away from collapsing on me Y/N!
-I’m perfectly fine, I’m just tired! Honestly, I make a mistake and get frustrated and suddenly I’m an instant away from laying in a coffin?!
-If you don’t stop you might! Just leave it, it’s not that important Y/N.
-It might not be to you! Can’t you understand that if I finish this and I get an A I will have a perfect record?! I will get scholarships and job offers!
-So some job in a boring office is more important than your health?!
-Don’t act so surprised, as if you didn’t know that I’ve done it before. I will rest when I’m done, so please Lilia, let me finish the fucking thing!
-Don’t curse Y/N. And no, you are very much done. – without warning she closed up the laptop and grabbed it, your hands far too slow to hold on to it before she could actually remove it from the table, the thick book you had resting next to it closing with a loud thud. She had stood and moved away from the kitchen area into the living room, rounding the couch and muttering something under her breath so that an instant later two thick yellow chains appeared wrapping themselves around the computer, letting it rest on top of the coffee table. She had to be fucking kidding; you thought she would understand! Lifting yourself from the chair had been a harder task than you had anticipated, the world around you faintly, but you still stood on slightly shaky legs and headed her way, fury seeping from every pore in your body as you knelt over the carpet.
-Don’t play with me Lilia! Open it!
-No. I don’t like using my magic like this, but if it’s the only way to get you stop, I will.
-DON’T DO THIS TO ME LILIA! OPEN IT!
-Don’t scream at me! I won’t tolerate it! I’m doing this for your own good.
-Please Lilia, I need to finish this, please!
-I’m sorry, I can’t.
-You are such a bitch!
-Excuse me?!
-You heard me! You are being a bitch! – the temperature in the room was absolutely scorching, your jacket coming off, your hands throwing it onto the couch without you even noticing, as if your movements were on autopilot, nails trying to pry the laptop open, but it didn’t do any good, it was perfectly shut. In anger you turned your head to look at her, tears stinging your eyes. - What do you want?! All my attention, that’s why you are trying to ruin my life?!
-NO! Can’t you see what all this is doing to you?! I want you to stop killing yourself! You don’t deserve it Y/N.
-I’m doing what I’ve always done, Lilia, I can’t afford a slip up like this!
-And I can’t let you carry on. You need to stop, you are sick, you’ve overworked yourself so much that you’ve made yourself sick. Why can’t you understand that?
-Why can’t YOU understand that if I can’t stop! I’ve never stopped, I don’t know how to!
The tears were running down your cheeks now, burning your skin as if they were molten lava, leaving streaks on your clammy flesh as they fell drop by drop onto your lap, your hands letting go of the laptop in defeat as your body dropped onto the carpet, back resting on the couch. How did one stop, how could anyone stop what they’ve only known for their entire life? You had never done anything but work and study, you had never simply sat down to do nothing for whole weeks at a time, there was always some shift at the coffee shop, some assignment, some presentation that needed to be done for the next day. You only knew how to work yourself down to the bone and beyond and you knew that it was reaching a breaking point, but you just didn’t know what to do. Lilia saw you crumbling in front of her eyes, rushing and kneeling next to you to gather your shaking frame in her arms, swaying back and forth in a soothing motion. She had expected this to happen since she had seen you come in, and yet she felt so unprepared, unsure of what to say but if there was one thing she was sure about was that you needed her, and she would be there. Her eyes were looking at nothing, zoned out as every fibre of her being concentrated on you and the way your tears soaked her dress, your face pressed against her chest.
She might have been rude, cruel even, but you needed to hear it, needed to realise just how fucked up it was for people to overwork you like this, until you were so burnt out that you couldn’t even keep your immune system healthy and strong. You could not help being like this, doing the only thing you knew, but that didn’t mean Lilia could not help you see beyond, after all that was her thing as a divination witch. Looking down at you she could not help noticing some purple marks that painted the skin of your forearms, squinting to try and get a better look, distinguishing the blistered skin and burnt flesh surrounding each circular mark. They didn’t seem to be fresh, as if they had happened today or the day before, but they were certainly not old wounds. Carefully she pushed you away from her body, your eyes blinking through the tears in confusion, feeling how she took your wrist gently with one hand and pushed your sleeve up so she could take a better look. Oh, crap, you had totally forgotten about them.
-Y/N? – you turned your head towards the floor, unable to hold her gaze, those deep eyes watching you with worry, but she took hold of your chin and tenderly lifted your head. – What happened?
-I swear I didn’t do it on purpose… the first time. – you felt so ashamed about it all, how had you let your life become this… this sea of torment just to get the life you thought you were supposed to have. This wasn’t the way to do it, it couldn’t be. Your hand had travelled up to your mouth out of its on accord, the nail of your thumb in between your teeth as if the motion could make you feel less of the embarrassment that was coursing through your limbs. – I was at the shop, and I bumped into Jerry out in the terrace and his cigarette hit my arm. It was an accident but then… I bought a packet and… did it myself.
-You’ve been hurting yourself? Why?
-I… I’m not sure. When Jerry’s cigarette hit my skin, I felt… something and…
-And what?
-The pain somehow helped me push through, carry on with everything. I wanted that. I needed it.
-Darling.
-I know what you are going to say. I should have been more careful; I shouldn’t have continued.
-No, love, you should have asked for help.
-Help?
-All this is too much for you, you can’t do it all, you are only human. – it was so tenderly the way she cradled your face in her hands again, her fingers twirling your hair in between them as her thumbs wiped the tears that were still falling. -You can’t hurt yourself so that the adrenaline helps you carry on. You can’t hide the exhaustion and the frustration behind a veil of pain Y/N.
-How do I stop Lilia?
-By saying no. People take advantage of you, they think that since you are efficient, they can simply tell you to do it all, but you can’t let them do that. Learning how to say no will help you in the long run, trust me.
-So, I simply fail?
-You tell your teacher what happened and if he doesn’t like it, I will personally talk with him and request an extension. But it won’t be tomorrow; I was not kidding when I said that you were sick, you are running a temperature, darling. You are closing your books for today and going to sleep.
-And work? I have a double shift tomorrow.
-You’ve got sick days, use them. Let me carry what you can’t, Y/N.
She always knew what to say, what to do to make you feel like the world wasn’t crushing you under its weight when you very much felt as if it were, and with your hands holding onto the neckline of her gown you pushed yourself against her chest to hide your tears back into the warmth of her soft bosom. You had wanted nothing more than to cross the threshold of the beady curtain and let your exhausted body fall into her embrace, the silence of the room broken only by her sweet words, whispered lovingly in your ear as you both fell on the couch, the coolness of her skin comforting the tears that had gathered in your eyes. Those same tears that you were now crying as you let your walls crumble around you. Lilia wrapped her arms around your form, letting you break, fall apart. You had been holding on for far too long, you had been dangling from the top of a building with only on finger to keep you there for years now, you had to let yourself fall, you had to let your body step away from all that was destroying you and simply feel gravity pulling you down onto the ground, because once you reached it there would be no blood, no bones breaking over the pavement, only the soft gentle touch of Lilia keeping you safe and nestle in her arms. Both of you swayed back and forth on the floor, the carpet digging on Lilia’s knees, but she would not move, not until you were ready, and by the way you were holding onto her it would be a long time before she would part from you. With a kiss to the top of your head she pressed her cheek to your soft locks, her fingers rubbing your back and drawing lazy patterns over your t-shirt.
-Promise me one thing Y/N.
-What? – your voice was muffled by her chest, the vibrations reverberating through her body, but she still understood you, a small smile painting her lips for a moment.
-You will never hurt yourself again.
-I promise.
-And please, if you need help, if you need me, tell me. I’m always here for you, darling. Always.
#lilia calderu#lilia x reader#patti lupone#avis amberg#avis amberg x reader#patti lupone x reader#agatha all along#we thank miss lupone simply for existing
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
I think about this a lot and I also think it’s why portraying Cleo as some kind of badass calculating threat is kind of disingenuous. Not to say she isn’t badass, she is, but often they’re kind of all bark and no bite. Cleo is ruled almost entirely by emotion, and is a big softy despite their sarcastic nature. Their alliances are built on love and trust, the idea of having someone to spend a season with rather than actually doing well strategically. There’s barely even a concept of “Someone here should win” just “We need to keep each other safe”.
You already went over the kind of breakdown Cleo had in their last Third Life episode. But I think having someone betray their trust in the very first season really sets up why Cleo is the way they are about alliances and betrayal. It’s completely unacceptable to them, there’s no coming back from it. Because Cleo loves their allies, they aren’t strategic tools, so she could never betray one.
Cleo abandoned a really solid alliance in Last Life without even stopping to see whose side Lizzie would take after the BigB thing because she felt so hurt. And then went back and burned the whole place down. The whole “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you” “Aw you could have trusted me” exchange. And like, yeah you can trust Cleo. Cleo doesn’t betray people, Cleo is loyal and caring. But she also goes completely scorched earth when they feel like someone has thrown their loyalty and love in their face.
Cleo, for all their talk of chosen soulmates and cheating, did end up softening to Martyn and working with him in Double Life. The whole don’t die sword thing as an example, and her calling for him when she died. The hostility towards Pearl in DL was often in defense of Scott, again love and caring over the strategic value of having an additional alliance. And of course there’s the convo with Pearl at the very end of DL that shows that even if they were hostile towards each other all season, Cleo does actually care for Pearl.
Cleo: Are you alright Pearl, you’re sounding… unhinged?
Pearl: I’m doing great.
Cleo: Are you sure you’re doing great? I don’t feel like you’re doing great.
Said with like, actual sincerity on Cleo’s end.
Limited Life is also a big example. Cleo willingly acted “motherly” towards Bdubs and Scar. She burnt down the bad boys mansion in an act of pure impulsive emotion after a minor slight. They got really mad when Scar died, like silent rage going into killing mode mad, and seemed happy to be reunited in death even if it meant not winning.
In their last Secret Life episode there’s a little convo at the beginning with Etho that’s great and shows again that Cleo’s mindset towards alliances isn’t about strategy or winning, but about trust and love.
Etho: Now I’m gonna uphold my alliance still even regardless [of the task]
Cleo: *clealry taken aback* I didn’t actually think that was an issue. That was- I thought that was just taken for granted.
Etho: I know I thought, it’s just good to say these things just incase there’s any doubt.
Cleo: I’m not killing you. If it’s just you and me left then you can kill me, it’s fine.
And then we get Cleo’s heartbreaking commiseration with Pearl at the end of Wild Life after Scott died. Cleo has never had to be alive without Scott in the Life Series. What is there to do without him? But Pearl is hurting and lost too, so Cleo figures that someone has to make a decision and that decision is that at least they can still try to kill Joel.
you know was thinking about life series cleo and. for all they're frequently portrayed as the Reasonable One on their team. and indeed position themselves as the Reasonable One on their team! we must remember she died like, second, in third life. after losing two lives in a single episode. because on that last life she got bloodlust and decided to go try to stab ren when he still had like, several allies around him,
611 notes
·
View notes
Note
omg the spotify wrapped game sounds fun! how about emily prentiss x reader with #56 💕
The Bottom
pairing: emily prentiss x reader
warnings: depression, bad mental health
summary: you feel like you're sinking to the bottom, but emily's there to pull you back up
word count: 1.2k
a/n: this one's a lil bit ouch but hopefully it's hurt/COMFORT. i need emily prentiss to give me a hug on my bad mental health days. (not proofread as usual....)
#56 on my wrapped was the bottom by gracie abrams
You stared at the text message lighting up your phone, the guilt settling in your gut. When you hadn’t responded to her good morning text, your girlfriend sent you multiple follow up messages, checking up on you. Especially in your line of work, Emily got quite nervous when you didn’t respond.
You knew you were being unreasonable, and even a bad girlfriend, but you just couldn’t put the words to your feelings. You were having a bad day, all your thoughts turning on you and clouding your mind. From the moment you woke up, you knew it was gonna be a rough day—an ache in your chest and a heaviness in your mind. Calling Hotch, you succinctly told him you weren’t feeling well, that you’d come in only if there was something urgent. Being the profiler he was, he could detect there was something off with you, even through the phone, and told you to get some rest and that he’d inform the team. When Emily heard this, her worry only continued to grow.
When your phone started to vibrate in your hand, you saw that Emily was now calling you. As your thumb hovered over the green accept button, you bit your lip, your indecisiveness making the decision for you, as the call went to voicemail. Sighing, you cursed yourself. Emily didn’t deserve this.
You got up from your spot on the couch, threw your purse over your shoulder, and got in your car to drive over to Emily’s apartment, where you knew she’d be, likely pacing a hole in her carpet as she ranted to Sergio.
When you arrived at her front door, you took a deep breath before lightly knocking on her door.
“One sec!” You could hear her movements, her feet padding towards you. As she swung open the door, your breath hitched. No matter how long you’d been dating her, Emily would always take your breath away. She was wearing a plain black hoodie and an old pair of Yale sweatpants, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail, and yet she looked effortlessly flawless. Somehow, that made the knot in your stomach tighten.
“Hi,” she greeted, a small smile ghosting her lips as relief washed over her face.
“Hi,” you echoed, mirroring her smile, albeit sheepishly. Clenching your fists by your side, you tried to ground yourself. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” Emily nodded after a brief pause, a look of understanding written in her eyes. “You wanna come in?”
“If you want.”
“I do,” she responded patiently, knowing all too well this game of back and forth you liked to play.
“Okay,” you agreed, unclenching your fists. “I’d like that.”
Emily smiled again, angling her body slightly so you could move past her. As you sat down on the sofa, Emily followed close behind, taking a seat beside you, leaving a little room between you, giving you the space you needed. It was quiet for a moment as you tried to gather your thoughts.
“I don’t know how to do this,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t know how to… not be this way."
Emily turned her body more toward you, her expression softening, the concern in her eyes unmistakable. She didn’t speak right away, though. She let the silence sit between you both, giving you room, just enough room to let whatever was going to come out, come out. And when you looked up at her, she wasn’t judging. She was waiting, in a way that made you feel like you weren’t burdening her at all.
You sucked in a breath, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I feel like I’m drowning. And no matter what, I just keep sinking to the bottom.”
Emily didn’t say anything. She just reached over, her fingers just barely brushing over yours. The small comforting gesture made you feel lighter, like it was an acknowledgement of this weight you’d been carrying.
You looked down at her hand atop yours and fought the urge to slip out of her grasp. "You could do better," you whispered, voicing the intrusive thoughts that had been taking over your mind. “You should walk out. It’s now or never.”
Emily’s expression shifted, her brows knitting together in confusion, but also concern. You couldn’t meet her gaze, too afraid to see the judgement you were sure would be there. The last thing you wanted was to be a burden for her to carry, to drag her down with you.
But before you could get lost in your thoughts again, Emily’s voice brought you back.
“Is that what you think? That I should walk away?” She asked, her tone even, no hint of anger, just a quiet understanding.
You swallowed, your chest tight. “You don’t deserve this.” Deserve me. “It's hard to ignore all of my problems. I have a lot of baggage, and you..” You stopped, closing your eyes, feeling the weight of your own self-doubt crush you. “You should walk out while you can.” Before I drag you down.
Emily squeezed your hand, firmly but calmly, grounding you. She didn’t try to move towards you, but the simple touch was enough to let you know that she was here, that she wasn’t going anywhere.
“Don’t say that,” she said quietly, her voice steady, but you could detect it was right on the edge. “You’re not a burden to me, and I’m not going anywhere.”
You met her gaze, her words slicing through the fog in your thoughts. Emily could see the hesitancy and doubt in your eyes, and her expression softened.
“(Y/N), I’m not going anywhere.” She scooted closer to you, your hand still in hers. “You don’t have to do this alone either. I know it feels like you’re at the bottom, but there’s a way out. I know there is.”
You wanted to argue, to tell her that it wasn’t that simple, that you couldn’t just will yourself out of whatever this was. But her words settled around you, offering a small comfort you had been craving–not an escape from the ache, but a promise that you didn’t have to carry it alone.
“You said it’s now or never,” Emily continued. “And I’m here now, and I’m not leaving. You don’t have to do this alone.”
Her words were simple, but they managed to break that last resolve you were holding to own. Before you could stop the tears from pooling, the dam broke and you flung yourself at your girlfriend, wrapping your arms around her and burying your face into her neck.
Emily immediately took you in her arms, and you leant into her touch, a feeling you didn’t even know you were missing.
“I’m so used to doing this on my own,” you admitted, mumbling into her skin. “I don’t know anything else.”
“I know,” Emily said, her grip on you tightening. And she did know. For the longest time, she too had been adrift, drowning to the bottom every now and then, but then she’d found you, and she loved you. You had become her anchor, and now, she hoped she could be that for you. “I’ll be right beside you. Now and forever.”
Closing your eyes, you let her flood your senses — her words, her smell, her touch, enveloping you completely. You didn’t know what tomorrow held, or even the next day, but you knew Emily would be next to you. And somehow, that was enough.
#my writing#2024 wrapped fics#emily prentiss x reader#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x you#emily prentiss x y/n#emily prentiss x female reader#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
Part 2 Prologue #1: Growth Mindset
Author's Note: I made some changes to my plans so the next few posts will be the prologue to Part 2 of Safe Harbor. They will fill in some gaps from the last chapter and set things up for the next chapter!
I’m preparing for my therapy appointment but this time instead of making the drive to Evergreen Harbor, I’m logging into our meeting on my PC.
“So how are things going in San Sequoia?” Khadija asks me once we’re both settled in.
“It’s going great,” I tell her. It’s a little weird seeing her on the screen instead of in person, but before long our conversation feels as comfortable as ever.
“I’m glad to hear it! Is everything going okay with your roommate? I know you were a little apprehensive moving in with someone you don’t know that well.”
“Yeah, Paul’s pretty cool. I figured he would be, being Lucy’s brother and all. And everyone in the community has been welcoming.”
“So no secret cult activity?”
“Nope,” I laugh. “If anyone’s performing any rituals, they’re doing a good job of keeping it under wraps.” My impression of my neighbors so far has been that they’re mostly wannabe bohemians–they like the idea of a homesteading lifestyle but don’t want to fully commit to a life without modern luxuries. Pretentious, maybe, but not harmful.
“It sounds like you like it there.”
“I do. It’s different, but it’s fun. I’ve been helping out with the animals; you know, cleaning the chicken coop and milking the goat, stuff like that. I even helped hatch a chick!”
Khadija laughs. “I have to say, I never expected you to be out in the field doing labor.”
“I didn’t expect it either, but it’s not that bad. I guess I’ve been doing a lot of new stuff lately. Paul convinced me to join a yoga class and I think it’s helped me relax. And would you believe I’ve been doing cross-stitch?”
“Cross-stitch? I wouldn’t have pictured that either, but it sounds nice.”
“Yeah, it takes a lot of patience because I messed up a lot at first, but it's kind of relaxing in a way.”
“Relaxation seems to be a big focus for you right now.”
“I guess so. I’ve been trying to find new ways to regulate my emotions like you suggested. Honestly, I’m feeling really good right now.”
“I can tell. I’m really proud of your progress, Johnny. I can see you’re really putting in the work.”
“Yep, even when it comes to the hard stuff, like having to talk to Lacey, I’ve been able to work through my feelings and do what I need to.”
“Oh yeah, how did that go by the way?”
“It was okay. I just told her what I said to you, that I think she’s a really great person and I value her friendship, but I just don’t have romantic feelings for her. And I apologized for leading her on.”
“How did she take it?”
“Pretty well, I guess. I could tell she was disappointed, maybe even hurt, but she was cool about it. Work was a little awkward for a bit but I think we’ve worked past the worst of it.”
I'm glad that Lacey and I are still friends, but I do feel bad still about how everything went down with her. She's everything that I thought I wanted, but for some reason, it just wasn't clicking for me. The whole thing makes me more empathetic to what Lexie went through when she broke up with me; it really doesn't feel much better to be on the other side of things.
“Well, I’m proud of you for doing the right thing, even if it was difficult. I think it says a lot that you’re trusting your own feelings and not getting hung up on what you think you should do. I’d like to see you do that more often. How does that sound to you?”
“Good, but a little scary,” I answer.
“A little fear is understandable as long as it’s not keeping you from growing. I think you can work through it, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I think so.” I wasn't sure I'd ever get to this place, but for once in my life, I actually feel like I can handle whatever's coming my way. And I can't wait to take it on.
Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next
#ts4#sims 4#ts4 story#simblr#sims storytelling#sims story#show us your story#sims community#stksafeharbor#safeharborstory#sh:part2prologue#sh:johnny#sh:khadija#sh:lacey
34 notes
·
View notes
Note
What would Nick do if he got a call from the hospital saying that Jalen got into a bad car wreck from a drunk driver? I would love love love love love it if u could make it into one of those quick, short and sweet little paragraph thingy❤️
The black Kia sped along the highway, swerving in and out of lanes trying to get to the nearest hospital as fast as possible.
“Matt, please hurry,” Nick pleaded in the passenger seat, he was pale and shaking. His leg bounced up and down from anxiety, he had no idea whether his boyfriend would be dead, or alive when arrived. The thought that some stupid drunk could’ve taken Jalen away from him made him angry for a moment, but fear overpowered it, and he was back to worrying.
“I didn’t tell him I love him when I last saw him. I-I should’ve told him. What if I n-never see him again?” Nick’s lip quivered, as he started to sob. He couldn’t handle the idea of losing Jalen like this. He couldn’t imagine spending his life without him. Jalen meant the world to him, he was his comfort, his home, his baby.
“Nick, c’mon, he knows you love him, and i’m sure he’s gonna be fine.” Matt says softly, as he glances between Nick and the road.
From behind, Chris grabs Nick’s shaky hand, giving it a squeeze, “It’s going to be okay. He’s tough,” he said, masking his own worry with a smile to comfort his older brother. Jalen’s was his best friend, so he was just as anxious.
“Have you called Jade? What did she say?” Matt asks, as he drives like a bat out of hell.
“No, she’s not answering. I don’t know if she was with him, or not. Oh my god, what if they’re both dead?” Nick says, frantic.
“Nick, stop. Don’t say that!” Chris yelled, he hated when people said things like that, putting negative thoughts out into the universe has never done anyone any good.
The vehicle finally swerved into the emergency room lot, and before Matt could even put it in park, Nick ran out of the car to the sliding doors ahead of him. He could hear Chris and Matt in the distance yelling for him to wait, but he couldn’t. How could he when the love of his love could be hurt or worse? Jalen needed him. His family needed him.
When he approached the front desk he was panting, and the receptionist was startled at first. “May I help you?” She asks politely.
“I-Yes, uh, my boyfriend he, um, someone called me, and I-“
“Jalen Brooks, please.” Chris says, once he and Matt finally caught up to Nick.
The older woman nodded, before putting on her cheetah print glasses, as she checked her computer for Jalen’s information. “Room 303. You can all go up, but only one visitor in the room at a time, please.” She informs.
The trio thanked her, as they made their way to nearest elevator, going up to the third floor. Once they arrive, they sped down the halls looking for his room. “Right here!” Chris exclaimed, and they all stood outside the door.
“I-What if he-“ Nick stuttered, scared of what he might be walking into. He couldn’t bear the thought of this potentially being the last time he saw the man he loved.
“It’s okay, kid, just go. We’ll be right out here if you need us.” Matt says, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before gently pushing him towards the door.
Nick knocks weakly, but it was clearly heard as he hears a faint ‘come in’ from the other side. He gulps before pushing on the handle and stepping inside.
“BABY!” Jalen exclaims once he sees the brunette, he had a cast around his foot and ankle, and Nick let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, as he saw the dread headed boy smiling back at him.
“J! Oh my god, you idiot! I thought you were dead, I’m gonna kill you,” Nick says, while rushing over to hug Jalen.
“Ow ow ow,” Jalen winced, and Nick pulled back instantly, “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Oh my god, I can’t believe this,” Nick rambles as he sits on the bed, looking at Jalen’s condition.
“A little beat up, but I’ll be alright. They’re keeping me until they check my x-ray, I may have a broken rib, but it’s likely just a bruise.” Jalen says nonchalant, trying to ease the worry he knew Nick was feeling.
Nick nodded, sighing, as he looked around the room. “Where is everyone? Your parents? Jade? There’s no one in the waiting area beside my brothers.”
“Oh, they left not long before you came. They went to grab dinner, the food here is ass.” Jalen gags, and Nick smiles. “Jade’s phone died too, so they’re picking up her charger. You know she’s got that 15. ‘Oh I can only use a C charger’ head ass.” Jalen says, mocking his little sister, and they both laugh. That was one thing Nick loved about Jalen, no matter what was happening, he always had a positive spirit, something he hoped to learn from him.
“I’m so glad you’re okay. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Nick confessed, as he leans over to hug Jalen again, a lot gentler this time.
“Stop worrying, baby, I’m fine. I’ll be out of here soon, and everything can go back to normal.” Jalen reassures him as he caresses his back.
“I love you so much” Nick mumbles into Jalen’s chest, as he exhales all the worry and anxiety he had. The feeling of being in Jalen’s arms again was all the comfort that he needed.
Jalen kissed his loving boyfriend head sweetly, “I love you too, peach.”
#『 nonnie 』#aerie’s hotline ☏#sturniolo triplets#sturniolos#sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#nick&jalen#〚 aerie’s dribble drabbles 〛
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
I (do)n't need you Pt. 3
Pairing: Non-Idol Joshua Hong x Afab!reader WC: 12.7k Genre: Non-Idol AU, Exes to lovers Rating: E (18+, MDNI) Warning: Angst, Drinking, Fluff, Joshua is just beautiful, bad communication actually shit communication, Smut, Protected Sex,
Summary: How will this date go? Will it give hope for a brighter future or will your doubt nearly cost you that chance?
A/N: Wow.. I can't thank you all enough for the likes and reblogs. As I mentioned before, this fic was already done so they able to go out quickly. The 3rd installment was going to be Wonwoo, but for timeline purposes it will be Jeonghan. All these fics can be read as standalones, but for my own sanity, I gotta write it in timeline order. Keep an eye out! Enjoy Part 3! Part 1 and Part 2
Pretty U was a quaint little restaurant, and it was clear walking through the door why it was such a popular spot. It provided a perfect atmosphere to spend time with friends, or even have a date night. The inside dimly lit with small tables littering through the space, only to spill out onto a patio that was lit up by twinkling lights with hints of dark purples and greens. It was where the two of you were quickly seated at.
Your table covered with a deep purple tablecloth and lit up by two tealight candles floating in a small bowl of water and clear water beads. There were little fall leaves inside and the beads gave the illusion that they were suspended in the water.
“Jeonghan already stole like five or six of these candles, and I can’t tell you how many of those little decorations, last time we were here they were little whales and crabs. He’s taken to leave them all over my damn apartment and the others. Jihoon is about to ban him if he finds one more in his studio at work. One time, he successfully managed to dump the water and leave with the vase, beads and little decorations too,” Joshua told you in a low voice, an amused smile playing over his lips, his eyes on the menu. You let out an unsurprised snort of laughter, accompanied by an eye roll, focusing on your own menu.
“Why am I not surprised?” You ask, and the both of you looked up at the same time.
“Because it’s Jeonghan.” You both say this in unison, then burst out laughing. Pure genuine laughter at sharing the same thought, something that was nice to do again with him.
“I swear, his cabinets are filled with the random dishes that he’s stolen from restaurants around here and when he was abroad. I still don’t know how he manages to not get caught ever.” His laughter made your heart start to flutter and swell. You didn’t realize how much you missed hearing it or seeing his smile so wide that his eyes were close to squinting, as much you did. Or how good it felt to be able to do this with him again. It gave you hope that everything will work out and be okay, “He did claim he had an accomplice this time but refused to disclose who or anything about that night.”
“Maybe he’s dating someone, and not ready to tell you guys yet?” You suggest, and Joshua pretended to look offended that you would even suggest something like that. “Or it just happened to be a date that just didn’t go well. Or, even worse,” you fake a gasp, and he looks up you with raised brows, “He was out with another friend and knows how jealous you twelve get if it’s anyone but y’all.”
“Okay, smartass,” Joshua rolled his eyes, and you just stick your tongue at him. He was then quiet for a moment, appearing to be focusing on his menu, “You might be right about seeing someone. He did almost say someone’s name last night but stopped himself.”
“I bet you’re heartbroken that he almost called you someone else’s name.” Joshua shot his tongue out at you at your response this time.
“Whoever they are though, didn’t come out for his birthday. So who knows honestly. I am a little hurt he didn’t tell me or Coups.”
“Yoon Jeonghan is the definition of never let them know your next move. I can see him go through an entire relationship, and an engagement without telling a soul. Only for you to find out when he invites you all to an unknown location and be like ‘Surprise! I’m getting married.’” You giggle, as you look over your menu at him, catching that he was watching you with a smile on his face.
“You aren’t wrong there, but as his best friend, it’s not allowed to happen.”
“Of course, I’m not. I have a Kami, who is essentially the female version of him.” The tip of your boot gently taps his leg, “Which I think we should be happy the two of them can’t stand the sight of each other and never actually became a thing. The world would be a terrifying place with those teamed up.”
“What if it is Kami that he’s dating?”
“Was it her name he almost said?”
“No.”
“Then no. Besides, Kami is on a women only kick. Jeonghan is pretty for a man, but he’s not that pretty,” You tell him, and he only chuckled, both of you returning your attention to your menus, a comfortable silence falling over you both. “What are you getting?”
“I am thinking about maybe the steak and the Aglio e Olio. What about you?”
“That sounds good. I think I might get the steak too, but chicken alfredo instead of the Aglio.” You answer back, then look up to him. “I take it you aren’t drinking since you drove here?”
“I might have a glass with dinner, if we aren’t going to do a movie, we can grab a coffee after and walk around here after all. I saw a group busking down the ways, we can always check them out.” He answers, looking over the wine list, “If we do that, I should be okay to drive when we leave. Are you planning to have some wine?”
You purse your lips, looking down to your menu, not saying anything at all. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him drinking, you didn’t actually care if he does, but you didn’t think it was a wise decision. Still without answering him, you looked out from your seat to the people walking by, and the growing night life. Seeming to be lost in thought.
Hell, it was a nice enough night out, the nights have been a lot cooler than they had been that summer, and you weren’t actually that far from Joshua’s apartment. Maybe you didn’t have to stop at walking around the marketplace, the two of you could easily walk back instead. Enjoy the changing season, and the cool night air. Not stop any conversation you would be on.
Your lack of response, however, seemed to have set alarm bells off in him, because Joshua looked up with a concerned expression on his face. Feeling his eyes, you turned your attention back toward the man sitting across from you. With a tilt of your head, you decided to question him in Korean, “What?”
The two of you would go back and forth between English and Korean, and while you mostly spoke in English, both languages came out naturally in conversations. Most times it wouldn’t be until one of you forgot a word in either language when you figure out which one you were talking in. Or you two would knowingly change the language.
“Is that a problem?” He asked back in Korean, and you had to tell yourself that the words were not as condescending as you would normally take them. The question was more out of worry then with attitude, and was genuine due to your silence, “I don’t have to drink.”
Before something like this would have started a fight, tones and looks being misread by the both of you. This would lead to either a smart assed comment or snapping at each other before one of you ending up leaving; with it being you leaving more times than him. It would leave the other to sit there with eyes on them and pay for the untouched food served.
At the time, instead of working it out by talking, you were just consumed with hurt and anger over whatever petty argument was happening. Often times with no significance.
“No, if you want to drink then drink. I am not going to stop you,” You tell him, looking down to your wine list, deciding on a Cabernet Sauvignon for yourself. “We are not far from your place, so why not walk back? Or I’ll pay for the ride share if we decide we don’t want to walk after all. Especially since you are paying for dinner and coffee. Why not enjoy ourselves?”
Joshua looked surprised by your response, but you could see his shoulder slowly relax now that this wasn’t going to end in a fight. Instead, it was his turn to appear to be lost in thought. It was your turn to feel nervous. Was he going to argue with you over this? Was he going to jump to the conclusion you didn’t trust him?
Then that smile he had been wearing all night returned, and it was like you both were able to breathe again.
“You’re not spending a single dime on this date, just putting that out there. So whatever we decide, you aren’t paying.” He commented setting his menu down, now that he’s decided what he wanted, and you did the same. “I can come grab it in the morning during my jog, and pick us up some breakfast, while you sleep in…”
You watch him for a moment, wanting to laugh at how cute he looked right then catching his words. Truthfully, you don’t know what to expect for the end of the night and date, or even the next day, but you weren’t too worried about that right then. You wanted to enjoy what was happening right then, not what could happen later. Didn’t want to think about how you wanted to fall asleep next to him or that your body was already wanting more. Or even worry about the future.
In that moment, you decided that you were going to let the night decide what happens. Whether it ended up with you going home alone, or you waking up in his bed the next morning. You weren’t going to worry. You just wanted to be in the now with Joshua, like this.
Before you could tell him this in an attempt to reassurance, the waiter appeared in front of you to take your orders.
--
**Nine and a half months ago**
There was something wrong. The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife. Hell, you were sure the knife would break with how thick it was. It wasn’t clear who was making the tension worse between the two of you, but it was making even the waitress nervous when she came up to the table.
Joshua was wearing an uncharacteristic frown on his face, one that would soon become a constant in the coming months.
This disagreement that you had was a miniscule one. Something that normally was insignificant to the both of you, one that you used to think was so silly to get worked up over. Something that was easily preventable with proper communication, which you had done. Giving him plenty of warning.
Who knew that running late would be the catalyst that caused the can of worms to finally burst after weeks.
It wasn’t even an important date, like an anniversary, it was just your weekly dinner date at your favorite restaurant. You had let him know well into advance that day you were running late from work, having to fill in for an artist for a group at the last minute. Just like you both always did, and making sure each other were in the know. It wasn’t like you had bailed on him at the last minute or provided him with no communication.
This time though, he had taken an issue with this, making a comment about finally gracing him with your presence when you did get there. You attempted to try and chalk it up to a bad joke on his part, but his tone had rubbed you the wrong way. It had led to a few tense words being exchanged, mostly with him being dismissive of you, before falling into an uncomfortable silence.
It was even worse with the waitress coming to take your order.
You barely said anything to each other as you sat back against the soft cushion of your seat, looking around at the other booths and tables filled with the other patrons. All talking and laughing among each other, while Joshua rested his cheek against his hand, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. Usually both your phones would be put away, like yours was now, to give each other your full attention to each other.
Holding each other’s hands over the table, and just talking about different things. About each other’s days, or random topics that were of no importance but fascinating at the time. What you always did on date night. Only this time, it was silent and all you wanted was him to say something or even look at you.
“How was your day?” You asked, trying to start that conversation again with him, but he didn’t respond. Just looked up at you with an unreadable expression. You weren’t used to this kind of treatment from your boyfriend, actually not used to seeing him like this. It made your head hurt as you rubbed your temple. “Baby, I am just trying to talk to you.”
“Is it because you actually care or just trying to make small talk? Not able to handle the silence?” Joshua shot back suddenly, his voice calm but his words with bite to them.
“What’s that supposed to mean? I always care about your day, or anything that goes on with you. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t care, Shua.”
“Forget it.” He scoffed, shaking his head, and you were more thrown off as he looked down to his phone. Something was bothering him, it was very clear, but you weren’t sure if it was because of you or if it was because of something else. If it was something else, then it wasn’t fair to take it out on you, but if it was you, then he could at least tell you. “My day was the usual.”
“Baby, is everything okay?” His lack of answer made it feel like you were suffocating, panic starting to bubble, and causing you to scramble to find out, but he was giving you nothing. You thought you two could talk about anything, especially if something was wrong and able to work it out together.
Except over the last few weeks, since coming home from the farewell tour of the group you were working for in fact, he was starting to pull away from you. Like he was resigning himself from this relationship and would just shut down at the slightest of disagreements.
You couldn’t figure out what was going on, and needed to know if you had done something or said something to make him feel this way. And here he was giving you nothing. Knowing it was going to eat you up.
“It’s fine.” He tells you with another sigh. Dismissive and just gut punching.
“No, it’s not fine.” You try and keep your voice calm, but there was a quiver to it, switching to Korean, and this made him look at you again. His eyes darkened, but you continued. “Talk to me. If I did something, then please tell me so I know and apologize for upsetting you. But if it doesn’t have anything to do with me, then tell me too so I can help you through it like we always have. It’s not fair toward me to be treated like this, or fair toward us if it’s going to cause problems. I hate when you are mad, even more so when I feel like it’s directed toward me, and all I want is to help make you feel better.”
“I told you, everything is fine.” He responded back in English, not entertaining your language switch, his attention going right back to his phone. “Don’t worry about it.”
“And I know when you are lying about things like this, making me unable to do anything but worry. What I don’t understand is why you are lying to me about what’s wrong?” You snapped back, feeling tears burning your eyes, trying to hold back all the anger and hurt you were feeling. “Are you hiding something from me?”
There.
There was your mistake. There was no right word to describe the look on his face when he looked back up. It was like you just accused him of something heinous or something, but you honestly weren’t doing such thing. You were asking a question to try and understand this change in your boyfriend, to know if it’s you or if it’s something else. You deserved to know.
Except those words were not relayed properly, and you realize how they actually sounded to him. You were accusing him when you weren’t intending to, and you were scrambling to try and reword them.
“You know what, let’s just forget dinner tonight.” He said calmly, cutting you off without any more thought, but he was pissed even if his voice didn’t betray him. It was the way his eyebrows furrowed, and the way the frown he was wearing didn’t fit his usually kind and happy face. It made him unrecognizable to you.
“Joshua…” The words were lost in your throat, he was already up and walking out of the restaurant without another word. Leaving you to scramble and rush after him.
That was your second mistake.
The moment you caught up to him, one of the worst fights of your relationship happened. It was the first time you had ever heard Joshua yell at you like that, his voice filled with so much anger, and it felt like daggers at you. It was jarring to see him this angry as he brought up past disagreements, bringing up things that at one time never bothered him, but now was a big deal.
You didn’t help matters as you lashed back out toward him. Throwing some of your own grievances toward him. Adding fuel to the fire.
The fight continued all the way back to his apartment, where the climax of it happens, and he storms out again. Leaving you to crumble onto his couch to cry alone at his place, and stupid you didn’t want to leave in case he came back. Which he did, well after you fell asleep waiting for him and wishing you just went home instead.
Maybe then you wouldn’t remember how comforting but souring the scent of him on his pillows were to your nostrils. Or the way he slipped into bed behind you, curling against your back and encasing you to him. The safe feeling of his arms shaken.
You didn’t end up making up until the next day, Joshua making sure to praise every part of you and spoil you to show you, but everything had changed after that night. But what bothered you most, was you still didn’t know what caused him to snap the way he did.
It was the first noticeable crack to the walls.
--
Dinner was amazing, the pasta and steak were cooked exactly to your liking and melted in your mouth with every bite. The conversation between you flowed so naturally, almost making you forget everything that had happened, and there wasn’t a moment of silence. The words between the two of you filled the air through the different topics.
It felt like a time when everything was once okay, hell it felt even better opening back up to him, and it sparked a good feeling inside you. You didn’t stop the flirtatious smile when you catch his eyes dropping down to your lips, watching the way they moved when you spoke, take sips of your wine, or even taking bites of your food. Finding yourself reaching out for Joshua’s hand often when you could, feeling it nearly engulf your smaller hand, and his thumb brush over the skin of your knuckles.
With every touch, laugh, and gentle teases, it only seemed to wash away the doubts that were plaguing you before the date started. Repairs already underway and adding space for new memories.
Maybe you were making things more complicated than it should be for yourself. Your anxiety and concerns tricking you into thinking that this was to be harder then it really was. Thinking it was going to be a challenge to even get past this date, but when really, everything about the night thus far only seemed to be providing you with what you needed.
This.
You and Joshua.
Only, you still had that rational side that would not let you be fooled by this unsecure comfort. Tonight went well, but that was only one step.
You shared dessert, instead of getting your own, and took turns feeding each other the creamy pastry that was ordered. Even snapping a few photos of each other taking bites of the dessert, giggling and laughing at some of the faces you both were making. You planned to post the photos later, not thinking or caring what this said to the world.
Once the final bite was eaten, Joshua paid the bill, and the two of you left the restaurant hand in hand.
“I am so stuffed.” Joshua proclaimed with a satisfied sigh, patting his stomach, both of you just strolling without much thought of where you were going. The marketplace had gotten busier during dinner, the sidewalks filled with couples on dates, or friends just hanging out. “Did you enjoy dinner?”
“Of course, I can see why it’s so popular. The food was amazing,” You tell him, before feeling a tug and you found yourself twisting to stand in front of him. Letting go of your hand, Joshua reached for your waist to pull you to him, taking a step back so you weren’t blocking the path of others.
With one hand moving to your hair, gently grasping the strands at the back of your head, Joshua pressed his forehead against yours. Your own hands now moving to hook around his neck.
“You’re amazing,” He said softly, causing you to pull back to get a better look at his face. His eyes shining, the corners crinkling from the widest smile you have ever seen playing on his face, but your eyes paying attention to his mouth. Maybe it was the few glasses of wine you and him had together loosening you up to his touch and loosen your own touch on him.
“No, I’m not,” You whisper, expecting him to argue with you, but instead he kisses you for the first time that night. Brief, tasting like the wine and the sweetness of the dessert you shared, but it make you chase his lips when he pulled back.
“It’s alright to be wrong, sometimes.” That is all he says, teasingly, with a playful energy playing off him. You feigned a fake gasp before he lets you go long enough to take your hand again, “Coffee? Then check out those buskers down a ways.”
“Sure.”
After the coffees were secured, you choosing a warm option while he chose an iced one, you found yourselves in the back of a small crowd to watch the buskers Joshua had mentioned. It was a duo covering popular songs, with one on the guitar and the other singing. There wasn’t a theme to songs being chosen, mostly taking requests from the crowd.
“A lot of those are what you, Jihoon, and Hansol wrote, huh?” You ask softly, leaning more into him so that only he could hear you. This earned a nod from Joshua, a proud smile accompanying it. His arm was now around your shoulder, keeping you close to him as the crowd picked up around you. “Maybe you can sing those again to me later?”
“Why?” He asked with a laugh, and you looked toward him with a raised brow. Joshua wasn’t looking at you, just looking forward with his eyes still trained on the duo performing.
You knew that his dream wasn’t to be a songwriter, he wanted to be the one singing and performing the songs instead. He wanted his voice to be heard by the world, he wanted to make it with his friends, but instead he was the one behind many of the songs that were popular today. It was a story that was held close to their hearts, one that you didn’t know the full details; only the thirteen of them.
“Why not?” You shoot back, and he finally casts a glance toward you before directed you to a free bench. Far enough away from the crowd, but close enough to still hear the buskers easily, “Maybe, I rather hear you sing them. They always sound better coming from you.”
“Okay, okay, enough of the flattery.” Joshua shook his head removing the arm that was around you, making it easier for him to turn toward you. Giving you his full attention and giving you a perfect view of the way his straw finds its way to his mouth. His soft lips wrapping around it, “You already have me, so you don’t need to butter me up.”
If only that statement was a hundred percent true. Nothing was official yet.
“If anything, I need to be the one flattering you more,” He continued, and you look down at your coffee. Feeling your skin growing warm at this comment, and it only seemed to worsen when he leans forward to say more into your ear. “Like I can’t get over how beautiful you look tonight.”
“Cliché.” You make a show of rolling your eyes, and this makes him laugh. “Try better.”
“Hmmm,” Joshua taps his chin, pretending to think. Then a mischievous smirk graced his lips. “How about, I want to hear you sing some of these songs to me.”
“I thought this was flattery, not lying. There is a reason I am a makeup artist to the idols, and not an idol myself, and you know it.” You make an even bigger show of rolling your eyes at this, but you loved the way Joshua’s laughter filter through the air. Looking at you like he used to wish soft loving eyes, not hard ones with little to no emotions behind them. Unless it was frustration.
Then it hit you why this was harder for you than you thought. You both just ignored that part of the conversation and were trying to jump in without fleshing out the real issue. What caused everything to go wrong the first time? What did you do wrong? What did he do wrong? What did you both do wrong? Did anyone do anything wrong or was it meant to turn south? Was it your fault, his fault, both or no ones?
The questions were now at the tip of your tongue, but at the same time, you didn’t want to spoil this moment. You and Joshua were together again, with everything about the night going great, and for the first time in months you felt like you were truly happy again.
Your name filtered into your earshot, and it was like you were suddenly snapped out of your thoughts. Finding yourself trying to not spiral into the nagging feeling that only minutes ago was barely even there. It was as if you couldn’t just enjoy the moment for what it was, reconnecting, and try to find balance with each other without fear of collapsing.
“You in there?” Joshua asked softly, concern etched all over him, with his hand giving yours a gentle squeeze. “You okay?”
“Ye…Yeah.” You answer quickly, letting out a nervous chuckle. You continued to answer, not realizing you had changed languages again. “Just was thinking is all.”
“About?” He presses softly, and there it was, there was your moment. To say something, to ask the questions that you should have asked the previous morning. Time to put it out there, maybe not the best place, here in the middle of a busy marketplace. The rock melody of the song that the buskers were singing in the background.
Speak now or forever hold—
“About how we should start back to you place.” You suggest, deciding this was not the place to ask this questions, and Joshua looked surprised by your suggestion. He watched the way your bottom lip found its way between your teeth, picking up the subtle hints to your words.
“Okay, lets go then,” He answers, pulling you up with him as he stood. Your hand firm in his, and he leans in to steal a kiss from you. One you return easily.
--
The television only played in the background, white noise to the both of you since neither of you were paying attention. Instead you were lost in the feel of Joshua’s lips moving against yours, slow and teasing, keeping the kisses shallow. Only giving you a taste of his tongue, giving the illusion that he was deepening your make out, but he would pull back at the last moment. Little shit.
His hair grasped between your fingers, and while his hands roamed over the grey tank you were in. Purposely avoiding your breasts to feel the rest of your torso and up your back. Your sweater had been discarded only a few minutes previous, and on the ground behind the couch now forgotten. The sole focus was each other.
Joshua then pressed against your ribs gently, indicating that he wanted you to lay back onto the couch. This movement made you break from each other, only for him to follow your lips as you lay back, bracing himself with one arm above you. Neither of you were exactly sure how it escalated to this, not that you were in a rush to, but one minute he had chosen to turn on something and the next you were attached at the mouth.
It only fueled your growing need for him, one that was coming back with a vengeance, and it was hard to keep yourself from being the one to the push further. Joshua, while eager to fuck you into the cushions of his sofa, held back until you gave him the signal. If it didn’t come, then he was alright with that too. He still knew how to kiss you and touch you in a way that was the next best thing to sex, even if it left him still frustrated. Making you want to satisfy him in whatever way you could.
But there was something still nagging you. That question that was playing in your head since the bench at the marketplace, one that plagued you during the walk back to his place and trying to stop you from enjoying the night with him.
What went wrong?
“Joshua…” You spoke finally when his mouth moved to quickly down your neck to the spot between your neck and collarbone that made you weak.
“Hmm.” Was his response back, his mouth still on your skin. Your body was putty to him and his touch, wanting him to keep going. It didn’t give away the war going on in your head, or the words about to fall from your lips was going to bring this all to a halt.
“What went wrong?” The moment the words left your lips, you wished you just kept your mouth shut. Feeling his whole body going rigid, stopping his movements, not needing you to elaborate on what you meant.
When he pulls back to look at you, you wished even more that you kept your mouth shut or at least waited. Or brought it up sooner. Panic washing over you like a waterfall at the unreadable look on his face, but his eyes were a mixture of emotions. Taken off guard by your sudden question.
“You’re asking that now?” He asked, sitting back and removing the comfort of his weight off you. Your hands reach out involuntarily, trying to grab his shirt or arms to stop him, not wanting him to be removed from you. Only for him to already be out of your reach.
“I… I meant to ask earlier… I meant to ask yesterday, but…” You start to stutter out, wanting to punch yourself for not getting the most serious question asked and answered. You both were clear that whatever it was made you both different people, but never got down to the root cause. “Fuck… I shouldn’t have said anything right now.”
You shouldn’t have said anything, you were so right with that, you should have waited. Or just accepted that he still wanted you and regrets letting whatever it was get in the way. You tried to tell yourself that the reasoning doesn’t matter, who was or wasn’t at fault didn’t matter. This was the first time in such a long time that you had Joshua back. You had hope that the last several months were just nothing but a bad dream, and that you came back to each other for a reason. Your hearts still connected and never moved on.
The details shouldn’t matter.
Where the hell did this woman come from? Only hours before you weren’t even sure where you both stood, ready to accept whatever came, and now you were terrified you ruined this. Grabbing for him like he was going to disappear or change his mind, and you lost all your reservations after one good date. All those months of trying to heal, to build walls back up, and where did that bring you with him?hihis
Still a desperate mess for this man. Nothing changed. There was no real resolve, you knew from the moment you hit the unblock that you were going to let him in, no matter how stupid it was. You were so ready to move back into that broken home with all the cracks and holes. Be content in the state it was in.
Joshua then looked away from you, his eyes switching now to guilt. He pulls completely away from you to sit forward, his head in his hands.
“I feel like you’re going to hate me,” He said softly, dropping his hands down before sitting back. Your heart dropped. “I never looked at someone else, or ever considered cheating on you, I would never do something like that. There was a stretch when you were on tour with that group, the disbanded one, that… I don’t know. I didn’t miss you, didn’t feel the rush to respond to your messages or calls. I knew I loved you, especially when we did video chat, or I got pictures from you. I felt it when I saw your pretty face and smile. Except then the call ended, and it was like a relief. A chore that I got over with, and I hated it. I hated that I loved you so much, but I didn’t miss you like I did these last few months.”
You could feel everything around you start to buzz as you stared at him. This time instead of your heart in your throat, it took a different route and plummeted into your stomach.
“When you got back, though, I was so happy to have you back. It felt so good to have you back, but the way I felt when you were gone was confusing. It didn’t make sense to me, and I got mad,” He continued to speak honestly, “I should have been mad at myself for feeling as irrational as I did. Unable to figure out if it was signs of the end, or if I was just confusing being busy with work with something else. Instead, I became mad at everything about us. I became mad at you, and at your job that took you away from me for weeks on end at times, and the complacent feeling I would get.
I started looking at the little things as issues, every little thing bothering me. It made me irritable and then we started fighting.” You watch as he pushes his fingers through his hair, pushing the mused strands back to a lazy semblance of how he had it styled for the night. The styling products still there enough to help keep hold. “It only made everything I was feeling worse because when we did fight, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much happier I could feel without you. That maybe I should just end it, but I kept holding on because the good times, fuck, they reminded me why I loved you as much as I do. That the fights were trivial and should have never been arguments in the first place. Things that could have been worked out by just talking like adults if we weren’t so angry with each other.
Then we would fight again, normally over something stupid, and all common sense went out the window. I just wanted to get away from you in those moments and began to look for reasons to not be around you. Everyone was so fed up with me too. Jeonghan and Coups were ready to murder me. Said fix it or just end it.” The sigh that left his lips wasn’t comforting, then again, nothing he was saying was making you feel better. “Then after our last fight, I just decided to let go. Thought it got so bad, that even if we did try to talk things out, we were too far gone to be worth saving.”
This was a mistake. You were a fool.
“If… if we weren’t worth saving then…” your words were slow, the doubt that had been slowly fading away was now rearing its head back. Ready to engulf you completely, and a voice screaming at you for bringing you right back to square one. And it was no one else’s fault but your own. “What makes you think we’re worth saving now?”
“Because of the same reason as I had told you yesterday. I realized my mistake and now that I know what it’s like to lose you…”
“But why did it take losing me?” You cut him off with this question, flinching back from his hand reached for your face. Stopping him from wiping away the tears that were starting to involuntarily fall, and you couldn’t take this pain in your chest again. You then stood and Joshua looked even more panicked. “Why did it have to take leaving me to make you realize that? Why couldn’t you realize that sooner?”
Joshua tried to grab your wrist, but you pulled it away. You were too focused on that he felt that you weren’t worth saving. You were too focused on the doubt that was filling you and how stupid you were for letting yourself do this again. If that was his feelings when he first broke up with you, what made him think history won’t repeat itself?
Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. (Albert Einstein)
And the two of you were insane to think anything different.
Your name came from his lips as more of a plea, but you felt like you were in going into a spiral. Your mind’s reeling, feeling you being pulled further under water. Lungs burning with each breath.
“It shouldn’t have taken that for you to realize how much I meant to you.” You whispered, taking off toward his door, with every intention of leaving. This has been a mistake, and you regretted ever agreeing to anything. You regretted rushing over to his apartment the way you did, you regretted even considering to let him back in. For letting him back in. “I’m sorry, but I am not about to be made a fool again. I can’t do that to myself.”
“Wait,” Joshua called out, stopping you from making it to the door, grabbing the hand reaching out for the handle to twist you back toward him. You could see in his own eyes tears welling, and his own heart was breaking. Especially at the sight of the tears falling freely down your cheeks.
They were like the tears that he didn’t get to see after that fated phone call, it was like the pain of that day all over again, and he finally got to see it. With it written all over your face, that you let yourself revert back to that broken woman. You tried to push him away, but he wouldn’t let you go. Instead pulling you more to him by your waist.
He let you hit and push against his chest, hitting him in mixtures of fists and slapping of your palms, but Joshua still didn’t let you go. He wasn’t going to let you walk through that door, not in the state you were in, not when he finally had you back. Instead he let you fight against his chest, with each hit and push starting to grow weaker, but your sobs were only starting. Why did you even say anything?
You were just breaking each other’s hearts all over again.
“Why did it take that, Joshua? How can I believe you won’t do this again?” You sobbed out, the fight to get away from him dissipated, and you could only cling to his shirt. A patch being created by your tears growing darker. One hand still wrapped around you to keep you against him, while the other was now cradling your head. “How can we believe I won’t do it this time? How can we be sure this won’t implode and leave us even more broken? I don’t think I can take another heartbreak from this…”
“We don’t know…” Even though he was telling the truth, you didn’t want to hear that. You wanted to be lied to, or to just be let go. You hated how much you latched back to him now, how easily you let him in again. Like a moth to a flame. Why you broke off contact.
Joshua then pulls back, cupping your face so you had no choice but to look at him, to meet his eyes. Still shining from tears that wanted to fall, but soft and full of nothing by love and determination. With his thumb brushing away a tear, smearing the black streaks of mascara and eyeliner, he continued “But I do know that we need to try to find out, and we won’t go through this moment again. Even if it’s only for a few weeks, few months, or for the rest of our lives, I will fight every day of it to make you happier then you ever have been. We won’t let the issues that we once let get in the way do it again. We will work through them and find resolutions.
I love you and if I haven’t stopped by now, then I never will.” His mouth was on yours, kissing you with a purpose. Every truth behind his words poured into it, the love he truly feels for you was pouring out like a waterfall. A few of his own tears hitting your cheek as you returned the kiss.
You couldn’t stop yourself as you clung to him, the grip on his shirt was like a vice and you didn’t want to let go in case everything around you would disappear. That he would fade into darkness, and you were alone.
“Please, don’t walk out that door. I don’t care if I deserve it, please don’t leave.” His voice was strained when he pulled himself from your lips, every part of him told you he was trying to not break himself. Both of you so vulnerable.
“I don’t think I can if I tried…” You whisper, and it was your turn to brush away his tears. “I’m scared though…”
“I am too, so let’s be scared together.” His answer in his own whisper, the corners of his lips turning up into a weak smile. The thumb that had been brushing your tears away was now running over the stains on your cheeks. Smearing the streaks of make up in attempts to clean them away, and it only made you look sillier. Except he was looking at you like he was falling deeper in love with you. Your name fell from his lips, full of unspoken and spoken promises, ones that you could only hope that he doesn’t break. “Will you stay?”
You didn’t answer him with words, instead with a nod. You didn’t trust your words to not come out cracked and strange. You couldn’t trust your voice not to break into another wave tears, not wanting to deal with the already bubbling guilt for turning such a good moment sprouting into a fucked up one.
Maybe the events that happened, were meant to happen in the order it needed. To break yourselves open and allow the hurt to be seen. To clear out what you were so willingly to ignore and could have been what broke you again. Bring it out in the open, and let that part start to heal.
You weren’t going to leave, you knew the moment he stopped you from leaving that there was no way you could. Your heart was screaming for him, overtaking any logic and pain you were feeling in your chest. You couldn’t walk away when he was looking at you like that.
You two were worth saving. You two were worth the work.
It was you who moved in to kiss him, slow and timid, with Joshua letting you decide how far you wanted to go. His hand still holding your face, with your own moving from his chest to his waist. The hem of his shirt at your fingertips, his skin only a layer of fabric away.
It suddenly wasn’t enough for you, you needed him closer than this. You needed to feel his skin under your touch, against your own skin. Leading you to deepen the kiss between you while he was slow to respond, not wanting to see too eager at your forwardness.
Words were no longer being exchanged as you pulled away. Your eyes looking into his beautiful fawn like ones, taking in the way the way they haven’t stopped shining with love. You were looking at him the same way, you knew this, and feeling the foundation slowly becoming solid once more. The repairs were still plenty, nothing being fixed and repaired overnight, but it’s a start.
A promise of a better future.
Gripping at the hem of his shirt, you begin to bunch the fabric to push up his torso. Joshua picked up what you were trying to do, breaking away from you enough to pull the shirt off. Letting it slowly drop to the ground, it left him in nothing but his dark jeans and giving away the perfect view to his defined shoulders and chest. The food from that night adding a softness to his stomach, but when your hands moved over it, you could still feel the muscles he worked so hard for.
Two of the members of his large friend group were personal trainers, and Joshua would go to one of them, but you could never remember which one it was. Mingyu? Wonwoo? It was one of them, and you really needed to confirm who so you could thank him for his contribution to Joshua’s breathtaking frame.
“Bedroom?” You breathed out softly, before his mouth could reclaim yours. His hand back to your head, tilting it back to kiss you better. Allowing your tongues to languidly dance, while your own traced over his smooth skin. Your body growing hot and needy for him.
“Are you sure?” He asked, moving his mouth just far enough away to be sure of your request, his voice husky with his own mix of need for you. Along with every other emotion rocketing through him. It’s been months since he was taking you to bed for more than sleeping, making it feel like it was the first time all over. “I can understand if you want to wait. However long you need.”
“Fuck waiting.” There was so much confidence behind those words, not leaving any room for doubt on his part. With the words barely leaving your lips before you were swept into the bedroom by Joshua. A surprise squeal leaving your lips.
--
**Two and a half years ago**
The first time you had sex with Joshua, you never felt more full and complete with a partner. You never knew this man was capable of mixing loving words with vulgar ones with that sweet voice of his. The soft tones of it ringing them in your ears, his cock filling you with the purpose of bringing you to your peak over and over. Filling the room with confessions of love while also making sure you knew how much he intended on making you nothing but a mess on his couch.
He called you names that normally wouldn’t be okay in any other settings as he twisted you into whatever position to help make you see stars and colors bursting behind your lids. Telling you how perfect you were to him, perfect for him.
Joshua’s balance of being so tender and loving while also being so rough and dirty was dizzying but refreshing all the same. His touch was something out of a perfect erotica, seemingly written with your body in mind, leaving you spent in his arms.
Until he started to whisper how he wanted to wake up to you every morning, just so he could start the morning with his mouth between your legs. All while his own hand snaked between your legs to your swollen cunt. Earning several more rounds that night.
And then him doing exactly what he said he would the next morning. Start your morning with his mouth.
--
Neither of you wasted any time pulling off what was left of your clothes, throwing them haphazardly around the bedroom as you entered. Your tank thrown over his dresser, his jeans left at the door, your jeans on his desk, bra and underwear seeming to now be lost in the ether; or behind his nightstand. It was like a clash of bodies falling onto the bed, and you found yourself under him, naked, thighs caging his brief covered hips.
A once very familiar setting, with his mouth molded against yours like a missing a piece of a puzzle. His hands gentle yet heavy on your skin, burning touch into you like a brand. An invisible brand to show that you were his.
Cupping your breasts, Joshua teased at your harden peaks between his fingers, earning a soft moan at his touch. You always loved the size of his hands, easily able to take handfuls of part of you with ease that others could barely grasp, and he would move them with a purpose over your body. Feeling how familiar yet different under his touch and taking in the changes over your body over the months.
Little scars that came with having a cat, one particular one on your thigh from when he used you to stop from falling off the couch. The changes of your skin and weight, a new beauty mark that had appeared. New pieces of you to learn and find perfect.
Your own hands were through his dark hair, your hips jutting up to grind against his covered length. Earning groans from him that vibrated through your body, meeting your grind as your arousal soaked the front of his briefs. When your hands moved from his hair down to his hips, he stopped you from removing the article of clothing. Breaking away so the two of you could get some air.
“Not yet,” He told you breathlessly, giving away his fight to keep control from just rushing anything. “It’s been too long since I touched this body… you can’t rush this.”
He was never the type to rush things, even if it was meant to be a quickie, Joshua always make sure you were well taken care of first, whether it was with his hand or taking you to the edge over and over with his tongue, he couldn’t go without providing you with plenty of pleasure. Even before he would accept any reciprocation for it, something you took great care in returning the favor, or before he would fill you with his cock until you were sated in each other’s arms. Leaving you too exhausted to move.
“Shua…” You let out a small whine, knowing that he was going to have you on the brink of madness until he finally fucked you. His words sent a new wave of heat through your body, your cunt already soaked for him, the fresh set of evidence adding to the wet patch of his briefs. His mouth moves against the column of your neck, gently nipping and sucking at the flesh. Careful not to leave anything, but there wasn’t a promise you wouldn’t have anything anywhere else. “Please, don’t make me wait.”
“Oh, Darling,” Joshua cooed into your chest, not wasting time to reach your breasts to slip a nipple into his mouth. Teasing, with quick little flicks of his tongue before pulling back, making you arch to chase his tongue. Wanting to feel the warmth of his mouth then the cold air of the apartment against the wet peak. His mouth returned to your skin this time to give attention to the other breast, a hand moving between the two of you to your cunt. With his middle finger, he slid of over your slit. “You don’t have to wait too long, trust me, but I am still taking my time. I want to make sure you are begging for me.”
Slipping between your folds, Joshua couldn’t stop the moan that left him feeling just your slick, whatever words that he was trying say with it muffled by your skin. You didn’t even give a single fuck whatever was even said, likely something that would only send another rush of heat through your body. Your mind on the way his fingers moved like they never forgotten the way you worked or liked being touched.
Tracing your aching clit with his finger, Joshua pulled away from your breasts to rest your forehead against the soft skin. His own breathing starting to grow heavier, his cock straining against the wet fabric at how worked up you easily got for him. It was taking everything in him to not throw your legs over and devour you.
To keep tasting you until you were begging for more, begging for him and his cock. It never ceased to amazed him how turned on you would get for him, just how easily your body responded to him. As if he was the key to unlocking all your deepest of desires, needs, and feelings. While you unlocked his.
You whimper under him, your hips rocking to continue to meet his fingers, impatient to be touched more. You didn’t want to be a begging underneath Joshua Hong, you wanted to be well fucked by him.
You didn’t just want it, you needed it. Feeling like you needed it to be more than you needed to breathe. But at the same time, the slow torture he was doing to you was like a drug you couldn’t get enough of. His fingers dipping into you was enough to send you near spiraling, nothing else on your mind but his touch.
To anyone else, you probably would look ridiculous in the state you were in. Hair a mess over his pillow, your lips swollen, body moving desperately at his touch, and face already fucked out. Only when Joshua sat back enough to take you in, it was nothing but a beautiful sight. The way your body moved at his touch, how his finger would glisten, and he barely had been touching you.
“Can I taste you?” He asks desperately, pushing his bottom lip between his teeth before an uncharacteristic moan involuntarily left his lips hearing the wet sounds when his fingers started to pick up speed. “Please…”
“Fuck yes.” The answer came out more eager then you intended, but in all honesty, with the way he got your mind already near mush without even fucking you yet, you weren’t sure how you intended it. Whatever it originally had been was lost when he added another finger.
This was one of the rare times Joshua didn’t waste any time, removing himself from you. Including his fingers, much to your dismay, only for you to feel his hands at the back of your thighs. You let out a small gasp when he pushes them forward, opening you completely to him. His mouth was then on you, running the flat of his tongue over your slit, planting a soft kiss over your clit.
His mouth then moved with fever, dipping and tracing the inside of your folds, savoring your taste back on his tongue. He remembered the exact places that that got the best reactions from you, like he was getting from you just then. Your hands gripping at his hair, with sounds that you hadn’t made since the last time you were in bed with him spilling from you. Sounds that only he could pull from you, especially when his tongue circles your hole before dipping in.
Joshua couldn’t stop his own sounds, moaning and groaning at the taste and sounds coming from you, fucking into you with his tongue before his mouth returned its attention to your clit.
In replacement of his mouth, you felt his fingers returned, his middle and ring finger teasing you in time with his tongue. Not yet pushing them into your heat, like you wanted to, just letting you feel his fingertips right there.
“Shua, please.” You didn’t have anything else to say other than that, your eyes rolling, with your brain and mouth unable to decide what language to use. The fingers laced in his hair pulled in hopes to show him what you wanted. Which he gave you eagerly.
With two fingers pushed into you, his mouth continued its assault on your clit, switching strategically between sucking and lapping at it. Making sure he was in perfect time with the rhythm he created with his hand, stretching you while your inner walls clenched back. Trying to suck his fingers deeper into you.
“I missed how good you tasted, just like heaven,” He spoke, releasing you with a soft pop, watching the way his fingers pumped into you. Stretching you open before flicking his eyes up toward your face, smirking to himself at the look on your face was contorted to. Skin hot from flush, mouth slightly fallen open with small sounds leaving it. Your brows were slightly furrowed with your eyes only half open, but you weren’t looking at him. “Look at me, Darling.”
You did as he requested, catching sight at the shine covering all around his mouth and almost dripping from his chin, and the way his tongue disappeared between his fingers during one tantalizing stretch. He did this a few more times, before finding his way back up to your engorged clit.
It was like the ground crumpled from under you, your body starting to shake, and he held eye contact the entire time. Watching you fall apart from his place between your legs, his mouth and hand still working on you through your orgasm until oversensitivity started to set in. You try to close your legs on him, but he stopped you, able to keep your legs firmly in place with ease, and completely unfazed by the pull you had on his hair.
Words were lost in your throat with only cries and moans escaping, while Joshua let out a soft sigh, wanting to pull another orgasm out of you before his mouth parted from you. That sigh vibrated against you, and you nearly jerked back so hard that you nearly hit his headboard.
“Too much,” You pant out, making Joshua finally relent so he could move up the length of your body to kiss you. His hands pulling you back, so you were under him, cupping your face letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He wanted to rut against you, but was holding back since that once delicious feel of his briefs was now too rough.
Letting you have time to recover and decide if you wanted to keep going. For all Joshua knew, you may not want to go further than this.
“You have no idea how much I want to keep eating your sweet cunt,” He spoke, breaking from the kiss, and gave you a half smile. “You taste so good, and I don’t want to stop.”
“Maybe I want you to get reacquainted with something else other than your mouth though.” You suggest, the hands that were once tangled in his hair now moving over his shoulders, tracing them down the side of his back. Taking in the way muscles under his skin, enjoying the way they moved under your touch.
“And what is that something else?” He pressed, arching his brow when you didn’t elaborate, holding your gaze. But he knew damn well what you mean by that, not caring that you were now trying to push his briefs off him instead of using your words. This only made him chuckle as he shakes his head, removing himself from you and the bed.
Joshua briefs clinging low on his hips from your attempts to remove them, the base of his cock appearing above where the band was resting. Your mouth watered at the sight, your eyes moving up his body, taking it all in again before landing him up to his face. One of the sexiest sights you’ve ever seen.
Pupils blown out from arousal and desire, smirk playing over his lips as he watched you, before leaning over to open the small cabinet of his nightstand. Getting a condom out. You could hear your name being spoken, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond. Your attention was back down to his partially covered cock. Just looking at it made you clench around nothing, at the thought of tasting it again or feeling it finally inside you.
It wasn’t until he grasped your jaw gently that you were pulled back into reality. His face very close to yours.
“Did I lose you for a minute again, Darling?” Joshua’s words were soft, near a whisper, your eyes now being held by his. “Tell me what you want, and I will give it to you.”
“I want you…” You whispered back, feeling a puff of breath hit your face from his soft scoff. Of course you wanted him.
“And how do you want me?”
“Fuck me please…” These words came out louder clearer, and earned a triumphant grin from the dark haired man before letting you finally remove his underwear. Finally freeing his cock, and you couldn’t stop from looking right to it. Thick, hard, and ready for you.
“You know, it doesn’t matter how rough or dirty we get, we aren’t actually fucking…” He tells you with a sudden firm voice, his hand moving with quick skillfulness with the condom. Unwrapping it and slipping it on, as you processed the statement and honestly surprised by it. Then you saw the way the smirk turned into an amused and proud smile for whatever corny thing he was continuing to say. “Because…”
Climbing onto the bed, Joshua fitted himself back between your legs, his cock brushing against your weeping cunt. Using an arm to keep him held up, he was able to see the way your eyes fluttered at the contact and your hips push against him. Trying to move them to catch his cock with your entrance but whined when you couldn’t.
With another kiss, Joshua aligned himself with you before pushing in.
“Because… fuck you’re so tight… we only make love.” He moans out, feeling you stretch around his cock, his own eyes fluttering at how you fit snuggly around him.
If Joshua wasn’t in the process of filling and stretching you, you would have rolled your eyes at the cheesiness of his comment. The only thing that you could think about was him sheathing himself completely into you, his hips now flushed against yours. Nails digging into his back, you clung to him, just the feeling of him nearly took you over. Your body still sensitive from your last orgasm and his mouth, and just adjusting to him sent you reeling.
Maybe you should’ve allowed yourself more time to get over this sensitivity or have him work you some more so you can adjust easier. Joshua was much bigger than anyone you had been with before and after him, especially in girth, so your body had to get used to him again.
You should have told him to not move, to give you a moment.
But you did not do that.
“Move..” You beg, capturing his mouth in a kiss with your own, feeling him pull his hips back in a slow pace. Just enough to pull halfway out right before his hips snapped forward, meeting your eager hips with a resounding clap.
You were happy when Joshua took over the kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers with each swipe of his tongue. This build was quick, taking his time was out of the window, his thrusts were meticulous, but strong. With each one taking your breath away, even more so when he angled his hips just right to brush against the sensitive nerves.
Leaving you to nearly floating to the stars.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His words were soft compared to how he was fucking you into the mattress, his breath coming out even more labored while his eyes stayed trained on you. You were already close again, the knot tightening with what felt like lightning speed, already threatening to snap. Teetering you on the edge, that was starting to give way under you. Nothing but Joshua was holding you there, to keep you from falling when the ground gave way until that perfectly timed thrust. “You have no idea how much I missed you… missed seeing you so pretty under me like this.”
You managed out something that maybe sounded like you missed him too, taking in how gorgeous he looked with his face twisted with concentration and pleasure, but each word was lost between small gasps and sounds only that he could pull from you. Your hands moved up his back to his hair, leaving several scratches in its wake, to bring him back into another kiss.
A desperate one. One that he returned with vigor.
You could feel yourself breaking in half, your body starting to shake and your legs locking around him. With Joshua wrapping his own arms around you, his own release racing to catch up. Each thrust growing more frantic, sloppy, while your walls began to spasm around him.
“I love you,” He gasped your name out, breaking from the kiss to press his forehead against yours, mixing the sweat that was beading on both your brows. You weren’t sure if he was still looking at you or not, your own eyes tightly shut, feeling an intense wave of pleasure wash over you.
With that perfectly timed thrust.
The threat snapped, and it felt like every muscle in you was on fire as they tensed and tightened. Your inner walls clenching around his cock tightly, enough to pull him with you. Filling the condom with stripes of cum, his hips still moving with difficulty, trying to ride through your orgasms together, but you nearly had him locked in place.
Soon his struggling and sloppy thrusts slowed to a stop, both of you still clinging to each other. Unable to part as you stole slow, languid kisses between each pant through the come down of your high. As your mind cleared, you knew that he was going to have to separate from you, oversensitivity feeling like it was sending you both into overdrive, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to lose the heat that his body was providing you.
When he finally did part from you, he didn’t stay away from you long, just enough to dispose of his condom and get you both cleaned up, before he had you back in his arms. Keeping your body pressed against him, peppering soft kisses over your face before reaching your lips. Then repeating the process with overexaggerated movements, your laugher ringing through the room.
The laughter slowly died when he caught your gaze, giving you such a look of love. One that was new and wasn’t a look he had given you before.
You weren’t going to give up, you loved him too much to do that and would do anything to not let him again. It was a long road ahead, but you knew that if he kept looking at you like that, it will all work out.
--
“I’m so sorry,” You tell him softly, though there wasn’t an ounce of guilt on your part, your fingers tracing the red raised lines that you left on his back. Taking in the damage that was done with a hint of smugness.
Joshua had been laying on his stomach, still naked like you were, with a sheet resting at his waist and his face buried into his pillow. Eyes closed, but not sleeping, his body relaxed under your touch. Enjoying the way your traced over the designs your nails made and created invisible ones with the tips of your fingers.
His mind was a mixture of content and buzzing with the events replaying over and over in his head. From the last few days ago, to the activities you both were up to over the last few hours.
Neither of you felt sated after the first round, barely getting cleaned up and cuddled in bed before you were at it again. Joshua having you in so many different positions. Pinned to the bed like the first time, you riding his cock as he took in the way your breasts bounced with enthusiasm. Making it impossible to resist grasping them with his hands and teasing the pebbles with his mouth. The fatty flesh muffling all his words of encouragement to pull more orgasms from you.
You on your knees as he fucked your throat, watching as tears welled in your eyes when looking up to him, it made him cum down your throat almost immediately. Once recovered, he had you face down into the mattress and hips propped up by pillows. Knowing your body was starting to wear out, even if your desire for him had not. It also gave him an angle to hit your bundle of nerves just right, and you ended up leaving small tears in his sheets from your nails.
All the different sounds came from you, the slick sounds of his cock pumping into your wet cunt to the different moans and whimpers, hearing his name in such a desperate way. It sounded more beautiful than music itself to him.
All because they came from you.
There was no way he was ever going to get enough of you, but both bodies were completely worn out when the sun started to peak over the horizon. But neither of you were able to sleep, instead just lying there, with you tracing his skin with your fingers. He wasn’t sure but he thought he felt you spell out both of your names. English and Hangul.
“You don’t sound it,” He answers back, one arm under his pillow and the other thrown lazily over your waist. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes still closed and buried into the soft pillow, but he could see the amused smile you were now sporting clearly in his brain.
“You’re right, I’m not.”
“So, is this a yes?” Joshua asked suddenly, turning his head toward you. His eyes now open to catch the confused look on your face. “You said you were looking forward to having some lazy days ahead. I asked you if you wanted to spend those lazy days together, remember?”
“Yeah…”
“You wanted to see how our date went, and I would think it was pretty successful if this moment has anything to say about it. So I am hoping it’s now a yes. I am sure that Jihoon wouldn’t give a shit if I took a few days off.” This remark made you burst into laughter, this time leaving him confused. Especially when you leaned forward to plant a quick kiss on him, earning an equally confused chuckle, “What?”
“Well, seeing as he is the reason we are back together, I don’t think he would give a shit either.” You continued to laugh as Joshua looked at you like you were talking out of two heads. How did Jihoon have a hand in you being back with him? What did that man do? His look on his face only made you laugh even more. “He’s going to deny it if you talk to him about it, he said he will, but he called me the other night. After you left them at the bar.
He told me that he heard Minjun…as well as some of the things he and his friends were saying about me. Which before you start, fuck them all and I don’t give a shit what they have to say. It was a favor to me.” You were quick to hold your hand up to stop him, knowing by the way his brows furrowed that he was getting upset. He didn’t know what was said, but it still made his blood boil because of whatever it was, it was enough to have you dump him so easily. You continued though, “He also told me how you weren’t yourself after the breakup, and how even though you wouldn’t admit it, you needed me.”
This made any anger that he was feeling start to fade, catching the way you were looking at him. Your eyes shining at him, hair a mess around, and your skin basically glowing in morning sunlight.
“And you believed him?”
“The man doesn’t meddle in drama, or other people’s business. If he puts his two cents in, it’s hard to not believe him.” You shrugged, giving him one of the widest and prettiest smiles he’s ever seen. Ever received. “But, to answer your question. It is a yes. I would love to spend my lazy days with you.”
Joshua launched himself forward, unable to contain his happiness as his mouth claimed yours with another kiss. His heart feeling like it’s going to explode, adjusting his body so it was now pressed against yours.
“I love you,” You whispered, causing every part of him to freeze with eyes wide and mouth dropped open. He hadn’t expected you to say that, but from the bashful look on your face neither did you. “I wasn’t going to say it, I was intending to wait a little longer. I know you don’t expect me to say it, but I hated that I didn’t say it back both times you told me the last few days. There is no way I cannot say it.
I love you, Joshua Hong. There is no getting away from it, and I don’t want to run from it anymore. I don’t want a life that doesn’t include you.” You tried to hold back the happy tears in your voice. “It doesn’t matter how hard this gets, I am yours through it all. I am going to be here until you’re finally tired of me.”
Joshua could barely hear the last set of words, your voice got so soft it was near inaudible, but he did. Feeling his own eyes starting to sting, he couldn’t stop the smile, nor was he able to stop himself from kissing you again.
One of his favorite things to do.
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about me ever getting tired of you. Because you’re not leaving my side again.” Joshua made sure there was enough space between you, so his words were heard, before diving back in for more kisses.
He wasn’t going to be able to truly make up all those lost moments with you, those lost touches, those lost kisses, but he sure as hell was going to try.
Thank you all for reading! Joshua and Reader will be back! How can I not revisit how these two are doing right? You'll also see them or hear them mentioned in other fics.
Please keep an eye out for the teaser for Part 1 of Jeonghan's. Title coming soon. 💜💜💜
#joshua hong x reader#joshua x reader#svt fanfic#joshua smut#joshua hong smut#thestraybunnyfics#hong jisoo x reader#svt smut#seventeen x reader#hong jisoo smut
37 notes
·
View notes