#im sorry if this was a little too hurt/comfort or angsty | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jetii · 3 months ago

Note

i loveeeeeee ur writing. its like a masterpiece. mwah. i was wondering if you could do an angsty fic with the prompt "I loved you!" with any clone boy you want (maybe crosshair 👀) I was listening to Cardigan by taylor swift and it lowkey set the mood.

sorry if the request is very vague cause i never watched bad batch yet im a huge simp 🥲 so do whatever you want.

I know you got like a tonnnn on your plate and i lowkey feel bad requesting but you write really good so take ur time to take care of yourself.

hiiiii anon. if you are who i think you are, then you'll have already been watching TBB by now, but if you're not, what are you doing!! /affectionate

after listening to the song (i have a sister who is a swiftie but alas i am not) and thinking harder about your prompt, i was inspired to write this for Echo, so i hope that's okay!

The Way Back

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader

Words: 9,621

Tags/Warnings: angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, established relationship, dramatic reunion, reader is a lawyer, Tech is a good brother, Echo needs a hug, allusion to panic attacks/alcoholism/depression

Summary: Echo always knew you were it for him, but the idea of seeing you again after so much has changed is more than he can take. Until one day he finds himself outside of your apartment, and the choice is made for him.

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Echo doesn’t leave the ship when it docks on Coruscant.

His eyes are locked on the city-planet, lit up like a giant firefly, watching the endless stream of ships coming in and out. Their trails of light make the whole thing seem dreamlike, surreal. Even that feels like too much, reminds him too much of the view from your apartment, and he tries to close his eyes, but his eyelids are made of glass.

The first time he saw Coruscant, there had been a moment of... what, awe? Terror? Something. Something big, anyway. He didn't understand then that you can have a feeling be a lot of things. He'd looked down on the galaxy's center of power and felt something bigger than he could possibly contain. Now, sitting alone on the Marauder with only the whirr of the vents for company, he thinks maybe the feeling was dread.

The first time they came back here after Echo joined the Batch, the others didn’t notice his unease. Or at least they didn't mention it. It was an adjustment period for everyone, Echo most of all, and his brothers gave him space to do things on his own terms, even when it meant he did nothing at all.

This time, it's different. He can tell they've noticed how he's been acting, and they're not just leaving him alone anymore. He can tell, because they're giving him looks. The kind of looks that ask questions he doesn't have answers for. They make excuses to stick close by, like they're afraid he might take off or that he's going to break down and have another panic attack. It makes him want to hide even more.

He's not going to, though. It's not so bad. Coruscant has always been a source of good memories for Echo, despite what happened. The sights, the sounds, the tastes — they're all still the same. He'd spent a long time on Coruscant before the Citadel happened, and he'd gotten used to it, the way the air smells, the feel of the rain against his skin. He had a whole life here. He was happy.

It's not so bad. He just... doesn't feel like going out, is all.

He knows he’s being stupid. He knows that he should be out there, enjoying what little downtime they’re afforded. Instead, he's on the ship, trying not to stare out the windows, trying to pretend that he isn't bothered by the thought of leaving, of the possibility of running into you again, however small that may be.

The worst part is that he's not sure why.

It's not that he doesn't want to see you. On the contrary, he does. More than anything. He hasn't stopped thinking about you, wondering if you're okay, if you’re happy, if you've thought of him. He's kept his ears open, and has managed to overhear a few stories here and there about you. The most recent had been about you winning a case for a group of Houk refugees who had been seeking asylum in the city, a big deal for a young lawyer to handle.

It had made him smile, a real, genuine smile, the kind he rarely got to have.

But there's something about seeing you again, about you seeing him that makes him hesitate, makes his stomach turn over and his throat tighten. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to know for certain, doesn't want to see that you're happy, that you've moved on, that you're doing well without him.

Maybe it's because he doesn't trust himself. He's different now, he knows that. He's different, and so are you. He doesn't know if he can face you, doesn't know if he'll be able to handle whatever is waiting for him.

When he woke up in Rex’s arms and realized the galaxy had kept moving without him, he hadn’t thought much of it, solely focused on survival, on the fact that he was alive at all. He hadn't cared about what he'd missed, who he'd left behind. He hadn't known how much time had passed, and the thought that he was a dead man hadn't even crossed his mind. He hadn't thought about you, hadn't given himself the time or space to consider the consequences. You'd been the furthest thing from his mind. He'd had to keep fighting, to keep living. But once he had the time to think about it, to regret, well, it was...

It's different.

There's no other word for it. Everything is different.

Echo has had time, too much time, to think about you, to regret losing you. It's kept him up late into the night cycle, lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, thoughts running a mile a minute.

You'd been a good person, a better one than he could ever hope to be, and he had loved you, and then he had died.

Or, he had thought he'd died. Turns out he hadn't. That had been the only mercy.

You'd been the first and only person in his entire life to see him as something other than a soldier, and he'd loved you for it. You'd seen him, really seen him, and you hadn't run. He had been terrified by that, but it had also been the best feeling in the world. And he had taken advantage of it. He had let you in, he had let himself fall in love, and then he had died.

It's different, now. He's different. The galaxy's moved on, and he's a ghost, and he's scared. He doesn't know how to face you, doesn't know if he can. So when they’d made it out of Skako Minor and Rex had asked if he wanted to comm you, he’d said no. And he's been saying no every time since.

A small voice inside his head, one that sounds a lot like Fives, tells him that's bullshit.

His brother would have called him out on his cowardice, and Echo thinks that's a fair assessment. But even though he misses you and wants nothing more than to hear your voice, it's better this way. It's better if you don't see him like this, if you never find out the truth. The thought of you seeing him, of you seeing what's left of the man you knew, is too much. He can't do that to you.

It's better if you never see him again. It's better if you have closure, if you've moved on and don't think about him anymore.

You deserve more. You deserve someone who hasn't lost as much as he has, someone who you won't have to worry about, someone who will be there for you.

Someone who can give you the life you want.

Echo knows he can't do that. And maybe if he says that enough times, he'll finally believe it.

“Why are you still here?”

The sound of Tech’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He turns and finds his brother watching him from the doorway, an expression of vague curiosity on his face, a soldering iron twirling absently in his hand.

Echo shrugs.

Tech gives a short, impatient huff.

"That is not an answer," he says, crossing his arms and looking pointedly at Echo.

"I was just..." He trails off. Just what? Just looking out the window and moping? He sighs. "Nevermind."

Tech steps into the cockpit, looking unconvinced. Echo can tell he has a question on the tip of his tongue, can see him considering his options. Tech is not the most tactful person in the galaxy, and Echo isn't really in the mood to hear his thoughts, not when they're bound to be blunt. But instead of asking, his brother simply takes his seat beside him and begins tinkering with the dashboard, checking the systems.

The two of them are quiet for a moment, the only sound the clinking of the tools. Then Tech pauses and looks at Echo.

Echo fidgets under his brother's gaze. "What?"

Tech doesn't respond right away, taking a second to look Echo over. His eyes flicker around the cockpit, as if the gauges and switchboards will give him some kind of clue, before coming back to his brother.

"There is nothing wrong with the ship," he says.

"Okay," Echo says, confused. "So?"

"So," Tech continues, "there is no reason for you to be here. We are scheduled to remain docked until 600 hours, and you have the day off. You could be anywhere."

Echo rolls his eyes, a prickle of annoyance flaring in his chest. "Yeah, well, I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," Tech agrees. There's a moment where he considers something, and then he speaks again, "If I may offer a suggestion?"

"Go for it," Echo grumbles, not bothering to look at him.

"Go for a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yes. Physical activity is proven to improve mood and mental health. And you could do with the fresh air."

Echo frowns. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Tech says, not even pausing in his work, "that you've been spending an inordinate amount of time locked away in here."

"I'm not locked away," Echo protests.

"No, I suppose not. But you have not been yourself since we arrived."

Echo doesn't have an answer for that.

"Go for a walk," Tech repeats, and this time he does stop and turn to Echo. He leans back in his chair and removes his goggles, letting them rest on his forehead, and the intensity in his gaze makes Echo squirm a bit.

"Where?"

Tech gestures towards the open space in front of them, the sprawling metropolis. "There are a number of options available, I'm sure. There are parks, shopping districts, museums, restaurants..." He ticks the ideas off on his fingers one by one, and then points back to Echo. "Perhaps you should find out for yourself."

Echo snorts. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to," he says, the words coming out more defensively than he intended. "I'd rather just stay here."

"Yes, I can see that," Tech says dryly, and Echo gets the distinct impression that his brother is making fun of him.

He scowls.

Tech is undeterred. "But I don't think that is what you actually want to do."

Echo's mouth opens to argue, but then closes it just as quickly. He's not sure what to say, not sure if he wants to say anything. Tech isn't wrong. He doesn't really want to stay on the ship, not truly. The idea of getting out and going somewhere is tempting, and if he's being honest with himself, the last thing he wants to do is sit here, stewing in his thoughts alone. Or worse, with Tech.

And he does need to stretch his legs.

He looks out the window again, taking in the sight of the planet before him. He's not sure what's going to happen once they get the signal for the next job, if they'll ever be back. He might never have this opportunity again.

He takes a breath.

"Fine," he says, throwing his hands up in the air. "You win."

Tech's lips twitch, a barely contained smile. "As I usually do."

Echo shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. He starts to make his way towards the door, and stops beside his brother.

"Thanks," he says, placing a hand on Tech's shoulder.

"You are welcome," Tech nods. “Try to be back by 0600 hours. If you are late, we will leave without you.

Echo snorts. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

He leaves Tech there and heads to the ramp. His steps slow as he reaches the bottom, but he forces himself forward, out into the bright sunlight and fresh air.

Echo spends the next few hours wandering around Coruscant, letting his feet guide him.

He goes wherever the crowds take him, stopping at whatever catches his interest. It's nice, being able to let his mind go blank and not have to worry about where he's going. He doesn't have to think about anything, doesn't have to consider the consequences, or the risks.

He just exists.

And it feels good.

When he eventually decides to turn back, he's a bit surprised at how far he's come. He hadn't intended to venture so deep into the city, had just wanted a walk to clear his head. But the area he's found himself in is one he recognizes.

Your apartment is nearby.

Echo can feel his pulse start to quicken, his palm begins to sweat, and he stops in the middle of the walkway.

The sun has begun to set, and the crowds are thinning. You’ll be on your way home from work soon, if you weren’t already. His brain helpfully supplies the route you would take, and his eyes flit up towards the skyline. He can't see your building, but he knows it's there, not far away.

The knowledge sits heavy in his chest.

No, he tells himself, shaking his head. I shouldn't.

He has no way of knowing if you're even home. For all he knows, you could be busy, out with friends or maybe on a date.

Don't, his mind warns him. She's moved on. You shouldn't.

He hasn't been to your apartment since the morning he left. The memory is a sharp one, a jagged knife cutting through the fog of his past. He remembers the way your bed had felt, the warmth of your body, the sound of your breathing as you slept tucked against him.

It had been so peaceful.

It had been so easy to leave.

His mind starts to replay those moments, the goodbye you had given him, and it's like a punch to the gut. He knows how much you care about him, knows that if you were to see him again, that wouldn't have changed. You wouldn't turn him away.

The night before, you talked for hours. Your conversation had been punctuated with kisses and caresses, laughter and confessions. You told him how much you wanted him to stay, how much you wished he didn't have to leave, how much you wished things could be different. You talked about what the future might hold for the two of you, and he remembers how that felt, how it made him believe, even for just a moment, that things would work out.

They didn't, of course.

But Echo is still here, and so are you, and he can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, the galaxy might be giving him a second chance.

He takes a deep breath.

There's no harm in taking a detour, he thinks.

He walks, following the familiar path, trying not to think too hard about what he's doing.

It doesn't take him long to reach the building. He hesitates in front of it, looking up at the facade. It looks just as it did the last time he was here. Same lobby, same doorman, same lift. They haven’t even fixed the panel that's been sticking, and it takes a good deal of force for him to press the button for your floor.

The doors close, and he stares at his reflection, at the dark circles under his eyes, the scruff that has accumulated on his cheeks and chin, the lines that have appeared at the corners of his eyes and across his forehead. And then his gaze wanders to the ports and implants, the reminder of what was taken from him and what he was left with. He traces the outline of one with his thumb, remembering how he used to be.

He looks tired.

What are you doing? He asks himself.

He's not sure what he's expecting, doesn't have a plan for what will happen. All he knows is that he can't get the image of you out of his head. He imagines you coming home from work, and him being there, waiting. Would you be surprised? Happy? What would you say? What would he say?

Echo sighs.

He's an idiot.

The lift dings, and the doors slide open.

Your apartment is halfway down the hall, and Echo's stomach clenches with each step he takes. He reaches it and stands outside for a minute, running his fingers over the metal door, staring at the numbers painted on the surface.

It's just a door, he tells himself. Nothing special. Just a door.

His hand moves on its own, hovering over the bell. He waits, listens. There's no sound coming from inside, no music, no voices. Maybe you're not home yet.

Or maybe you're out. Maybe you're not alone.

He rings the bell and holds his breath, counting the seconds.

One. Two. Three. Four.

Nothing.

Echo rings again, this time holding the button down for a few extra seconds, listening for any sign of movement.

There's nothing.

The knot in his stomach tightens, and he releases the button, letting out the breath he'd been holding. He runs a hand over his face, feeling the heat of his skin through his glove. He's sweating.

Well, that's it, then.

He'd thought he was prepared for this possibility, but hearing the silence behind the door and knowing that you aren't home has shaken him more than he anticipated.

Maybe this is for the best, he thinks. It's better this way. Safer.

But the disappointment is palpable.

He's not sure what to do. He considers waiting a little longer, just to make sure, but the more he thinks about it, the more stupid it seems. He doesn't belong here anymore. He shouldn't be here, standing outside your door, hoping for something that won't happen.

He needs to go.

As Echo turns away from the door, a voice calls out behind him.

"Can I help you?"

For half a second, he's sure he imagined it, sure that it's just his brain playing tricks on him, taunting him. But then the voice speaks again.

"Are you looking for someone?"

Echo spins around, heart leaping into his throat, and there you are.

Standing there, a few paces away, is the woman he's been dreaming about, the one he's thought about every day, the one he's missed so much that it hurts.

Your hair is different, longer than he's ever seen it, pulled away from your face. You're wearing a dress, something he's only seen a handful of times, and your makeup is impeccable, but he can still see the hint of tiredness behind your eyes. He wonders how many hours you've put in at work this week, how much you've had to fight for your clients.

But the most noticeable change is that you're looking at him. Your datapad is held loosely in your hands, a bag of groceries on your hip, and you’re staring at him, your brow furrowed in confusion.

He doesn’t blame you.

This is a strange situation, and you must be wondering who the hell is standing in front of you, why they rang your bell and then walked away.

"Um," Echo says, suddenly aware that he hasn't spoken. He clears his throat, trying to gather his wits. He didn't think this through. "Hi."

You blink, clearly not expecting that response.

"Hi," you reply, warily.

Echo tries to say something, but the words won't come.

He's frozen in place, staring at you, unable to do anything except take in your appearance, drinking in the sight of you. He didn't realize how much he needed to see you until now, and the relief he feels is overwhelming.

"Do I..." You trail off, studying him carefully. "Do I know you?"

He feels his heart break, just a little.

You don't recognize him. Of course, you wouldn't. It's been so long, and he's not the same man you knew. His face is one of thousands, identical and interchangeable. He doesn't even look like a clone anymore, not really. He's more machine than man, now, and he has no idea how he expected you to see him.

"Yeah," he manages to say, his voice hoarse. "Yeah, you do."

You raise your eyebrows, waiting. When he doesn't say anything else, you take a step towards him, squinting a little. He can feel the tension in his body, can sense your scrutiny. It's not comfortable, but it's not unpleasant, either.

"Sorry," you say, sounding frustrated, "I can't quite —"

You stop, your eyes widening, and Echo can see the exact moment it clicks.

"Oh," you gasp, covering your mouth with a shaking hand. The motion makes the paper bag of groceries on your arm start to slip, and Echo rushes forward to catch it, placing it on the floor by your feet. He stands up, and he can feel your eyes on him, can see the tears beginning to well up, can hear your breathing quicken.

He waits.

"Echo?" Your voice is soft, tentative, like you're not sure if he's real or not. Like he's some kind of ghost. He's not sure that's not what he is.

"Hey, cyar'ika," he says. His voice cracks, and he clears his throat again.

A small, incredulous laugh escapes you.

"Hi," you breathe. You cover your mouth again, trying to stifle the sob that rises from your chest. "I —"

You let out a shaky breath, and then another, and then all of a sudden, you're crying, tears streaming down your face. Your hands come up to wipe them away, but more keep falling, and Echo is overwhelmed with the desire to hold you, to take away the pain and the sadness, to make everything right. But he doesn't know if he's allowed, doesn't know if it would be welcome. So instead, he just stands there, helpless.

"I'm sorry," you hiccup, wiping your face with the back of your hand. "I can't believe it's you."

He smiles at that, his own eyes burning. "It's me," he confirms. "I'm here."

You're shaking your head, your eyes never leaving his face, as if you're afraid that he might disappear if you look away. He doesn't blame you, and he does his best to stay as still as possible. The last thing he wants is to scare you, or make you think he's going to leave. Not when he just got here.

"I thought..." You start, and then trail off.

"I know."

You swallow hard, taking a moment to compose yourself. "I thought you were dead."

Echo winces. He's heard those words from a lot of people, but coming from you, they hurt. "Yeah, I, uh... I thought so, too, for a while."

He sees the look of horror that crosses your face, the way your eyes grow wet again, and he wishes he hadn't said it.

"How... How long have you been back?" you ask. Your voice is quiet, strained, and Echo can hear the question underneath, the one you're afraid to ask. The one that makes his stomach twist into knots.

"Not long," he answers, trying to keep his tone even, light. "Only a couple months, really."

"Months?" you repeat, incredulous. "You've been back for months?"

Echo shifts uncomfortably and nods. "Yeah."

You stare at him, your mouth opening and closing as you search for words. "And... And you didn't comm me?"

"I, uh... No."

You let out a sharp exhale and turn away, bringing your hands to your face, and he can see that you're starting to shake again. You're silent for a moment, and he can feel his heart pounding, can feel the blood rushing in his ears. His stomach churns, and he feels like he's going to be sick.

"Why?" Your voice is tight, controlled. It's the same voice you use when you're working, the one you use to keep yourself calm, to keep yourself from getting angry.

"I just... I wasn't..." Echo trails off, not sure what to say. I wasn't sure if I was coming back? That's true, but not the whole truth. I wasn't sure you'd want to see me? Also true, but also not the full answer. I wasn't sure I was worth it? Yeah, that's the one.

But he can't say it.

He doesn't know if it's fear or guilt or shame, but whatever it is, it keeps the words stuck in his throat. You're waiting for an answer, and he's not sure he has one.

"Echo," you say, your voice a warning. You turn to face him again, and he can see the hurt and frustration in your eyes. He wants to hold you, wants to apologize, wants to take it all back. But he doesn't move. He can't.

"Why?" you repeat, more forcefully this time.

"I didn't want to bother you," he says. It's the best answer he can come up with, and the worst part is that it's also true. At least, that's what he tells himself.

But the moment the words leave his mouth, he knows it's the wrong thing to say. You stiffen, and then your jaw tightens. He can tell that you're barely holding it together, and he wants to say something, to explain, but he doesn't get the chance.

"You didn't want to bother me," you repeat, and Echo can hear the anger in your voice, can feel the sting of it. "I'm sorry, did I not make it clear how much I care about you?"

"No, you did," Echo says, backtracking, trying to placate you. "You did, I promise."

"Then please explain how you thought keeping me in the dark about the fact that the man I love was still alive and well was not a bother."

The word "love" hits him like a punch to the gut.

You love him. You still love him. You're still here, and you're still loving him, even after everything. He doesn't understand, doesn't know why. Doesn't know how. But he doesn't have time to think about it, not with the way you're looking at him, the hurt and confusion clear on your face.

"That's not what I meant," he says, his voice low, pleading. "It's not that. I promise."

You let out a shaky sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. "What's the difference, then?"

Echo opens his mouth, and then closes it again, not knowing what to say.

"I mourned you," you say. Your voice is soft, almost a whisper, but it sounds loud in the silence between the two of you. "I loved you, and I mourned you, and I was doing okay, and then you just show up, and act like it's no big deal, like I didn't spend weeks, months waiting for you to come back, hoping you'd come back, and..."

Your voice cracks, and a fresh wave of tears begins to roll down your cheeks. Echo reaches out to brush them away, and you flinch. The motion stings, but he doesn't say anything, doesn't push it. He lets his hand drop to his side.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't... I didn't mean to hurt you."

"Yeah, well, you did," you say, sniffling.

The words hit him harder than he expects, and he feels his throat tighten.

"I didn't know what to say," he admits, his voice breaking. "I didn't know what to do."

"Why not?" you ask, and your anger has softened, turning into something else. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" Echo says quickly. "Of course not. You were perfect. You were... You were amazing."

You look at him, and there's a vulnerability in your eyes that makes him want to gather you in his arms and never let go. He thinks maybe he should. But before he can, you speak.

"So what happened?" you ask. Your voice is quiet, but Echo can hear the desperation, the need for an answer. "Where were you? Why didn't you come back?"

“I—“ Echo looks around, suddenly aware of the hallway and the closed doors surrounding him, closing in on him. The space is too small, the walls are too close, the air is too thick. He feels trapped, like the world is closing in around him, and he takes a step back.

"Can we... Can we not do this out here?" he asks, trying not to let his voice betray his panic.

You study him for a moment, considering. He doesn't blame you. After all, he'd shown up out of the blue, and you had every right to be suspicious. You're still crying, but there's a steeliness in your gaze, and he can tell you're weighing your options, deciding if he's worth it or not. His heart hammers against his ribs as he waits, praying that you'll give him a chance.

Finally, you let out a sigh and nod.

"Yeah," you say, "sure."

You bend down to pick up the groceries, and Echo rushes forward, scooping them up before you can. You look at him, surprised.

"Let me help," he says. "Please."

You hesitate, and Echo can see the worry on your face, but then you nod, fumbling for the keypad. The lock clicks open, and you push the door open, motioning for him to go ahead.

He steps inside, and the familiar scent of your apartment hits him hard. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it, how much he'd come to associate it with safety and comfort. It makes his chest ache, and he takes a moment to steady himself, willing the tears to stop.

Your apartment is the same, and yet so different.

It's still cozy, but there's a coldness to the air, a lack of warmth. The curtains are closed, and the room is dark, the only light coming from the dim bulb above the stove in the kitchen. There are dishes stacked in the sink, and a few pieces of dirty laundry have been discarded on the couch. The floor is littered with shoes and other miscellaneous items, as if someone came home and kicked everything off their feet, leaving it all in a pile. Echo’s brow furrows at the mess, and he wonders when you started to let the place get this way.

"I'm sorry," you say, sounding embarrassed. You take the bag of groceries from him, your cheeks flushed. "I wasn't expecting company."

"Don't worry about it," he assures you.

"Here, let me..." You trail off, disappearing down the hall, and a moment later, he hears a door slam shut.

Echo stands there, unsure of what to do. His gaze wanders around the room, taking everything in, trying to find something to occupy himself with. It feels like years since he's been here, and the sensation is both comforting and strange. He remembers the nights he spent curled up next to you on the couch, the quiet mornings in the kitchen, the lazy afternoons spent in bed.

He shakes his head, trying to focus on the present.

You're back now, and he needs to concentrate.

He takes a seat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers against the wood.

It's quiet, but Echo can hear you moving around, and he wonders if you're trying to clean up, trying to make the place a little more presentable. He doesn't care about any of that. He cares about you.

And he doesn't know what to say.

He runs his hand over his face, pressing the heel of his palm into his eye, trying to think. He's rehearsed this moment in his head, has imagined all the different ways it could go.

And now that it's actually happening, he can't remember a single one.

He's such an idiot.

The minutes pass, and you finally return. He hears you enter the room, the soft sound of your footsteps, but he can't bring himself to look up. Not yet.

"Echo," you say, and he can hear the hesitation in your voice. "What happened?"

"I don't know where to start," he confesses, dropping his hand and glancing up at you.

You've changed into something more comfortable, a pair of sweatpants and your favorite sweater, and your face is scrubbed clean, makeup-free. It's nice to see you this way, a reminder of the times you shared together, and the sight makes him smile.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Nothing, it's just..." He pauses, his eyes wandering over you. "I forgot how you looked in sweatpants."

You roll your eyes, but there's a hint of amusement on your face. "Seriously? You're sitting here, after being missing for months, and you're making fun of my fashion choices?"

"I'm not making fun of you," he says, chuckling. The pressure in his chest eases slightly, and he takes a breath. "I just meant that I missed seeing you this way."

You let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh, and then shake your head.

"You're unbelievable," you mutter.

Echo smiles, and for a moment, he feels normal. As if the last year never happened, and this was just a day like any other. As if he'd just come home from a mission, and you'd greet him with a kiss, and everything would be fine.

But then you sigh, and the moment is over.

"Look, I get that this is... Well, I'm sure this isn't what you were expecting," you say. You move to sit across from him, leaning your elbows on the table and resting your chin in your hands. "But we can't keep pretending like nothing happened. You have to talk to me."

Echo stares at you, his eyes taking in the familiar lines of your face, the curve of your lips, the color of your eyes. They aren’t as bright as he remembered, not as full of life, and the realization breaks his heart. This isn't how it's supposed to be.

"Okay," he begins, clearing his throat. "So, uh, this is going to be a lot."

"That's okay," you say gently. You give him a reassuring nod, and Echo feels a swell of gratitude for you. "Just... Start at the beginning, and we'll go from there."

"Right, the beginning." Echo nods, trying to organize his thoughts, and then he starts to speak.

He tells you everything, from the moment the explosion happened, to the moment he woke up and found himself in Rex's arms, everything in between. He tells you about his injuries, the surgeries, the physical therapy. He tells you about his time with the Batch, his newfound abilities, the things he's been able to do, the things he's learned. He talks about the missions, the jobs, the danger they've faced, and the risks they've taken. He tells you about the planets, the people, the experiences. He tries to leave nothing out, even the hard parts. The loss, the pain, the fear. He doesn't want to spare you any of it.

You sit there and listen, asking questions when necessary, but mostly staying silent. And when he's done, he sits there, feeling a strange sense of relief. He hadn't realized how much he needed to talk about everything, how much he'd been holding in. And he hadn't realized how good it would feel to tell you. To have someone who cared, someone he trusted, who knew him better than anyone.

When the words run out, and the room is silent, you let out a long, slow exhale. You sit there, your hands folded together, your gaze fixed on the tabletop, and Echo waits, not sure what to expect. But the longer the silence drags on, the more worried he gets.

"Cyar'ika?" he asks, his voice hesitant.

You take a breath and look up at him, and Echo is startled to see that your eyes are glassy, and there are fresh tear tracks running down your cheeks.

"Sorry," you apologize, wiping at them with your sleeve. "I'm not — I just..."

You take another breath, and then let it out, composing yourself. "Thank you," you say. "For telling me. I know that can't have been easy."

"It wasn't," Echo admits, and his throat tightens a little. "But I'm glad I did."

You offer him a small smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You look like you’re far away, lost in your own thoughts, and Echo has a feeling you're not fully present, not in the moment. And he doesn't blame you. His words can't have been easy to hear.

"Is there anything else you want to know?" he asks, trying to break the silence.

You glance at him, your eyes focusing, and then look away, your jaw clenching. Echo can see the emotion on your face, can tell that you're struggling to stay calm, to hold it together. You've always been good at that, he thinks.

"I just..." You pause, taking a shaky breath, and Echo can see the tears forming in your eyes again. "I just don't understand."

He frowns, confused. "What do you mean?"

You close your eyes, taking a moment to collect yourself. Then, you stand up and begin pacing around the kitchen, your hands clasped behind your back. You move slowly, deliberately, your gaze fixed on the floor, like you're trying to make sense of something, figure something out.

Echo watches you, feeling uneasy. You're not giving anything away, and the silence is starting to get to him. He's never seen you in the courtroom, but he imagines this is the stance you take when you're interrogating a witness.

It's effective.

"Can you say something, please?" he asks. He knows he sounds desperate, but he doesn't care.

"I'm thinking," you say, and Echo bites his lip.

He feels like he's going to crawl out of his skin. He wants to get up, to follow you around the room, try to coax a response out of you. He wants to make this better, to make this right. But he knows that pushing you won't help, so he stays seated, trying to keep his patience.

You continue to pace, your expression blank, and the seconds tick by, the only sound the muffled noises of the city outside. It feels like an eternity has passed when you finally stop, standing in front of him, your arms crossed.

"I can't believe you thought I wouldn't want to see you," you say. Your voice is low, almost a whisper, and there's an edge to it that Echo doesn't recognize. It's not anger, not exactly. It's something else, something deeper.

"I know," he replies, his voice just as quiet.

"I thought you were dead," you say, the words coming out in a rush. "I grieved you. I mourned you. And then you show up, and you're... You're alive, and you're here, and you think the best thing to do is to leave me alone?"

"I didn't know what would happen," Echo explains, trying to keep his tone calm. "I wasn't sure if I was coming back, and I didn't want to —"

"No," you say sharply, cutting him off. "That's not an excuse. That's bullshit, and you know it."

Echo swallows, and nods, not sure what to say.

"We made promises," you continue, and Echo can hear the anger in your voice, can see the frustration on your face. "To each other. We talked about our future, we said things that... We made things that were real, and then you just decided it was too much, and you walked away. What the hell is that?"

"I'm sorry," Echo says around the lump forming in his throat. "I shouldn't have —"

"No," you interrupt, your eyes burning. "You shouldn't have."

Echo looks at you, and he feels like he's going to shatter. You’re staring at him with such intensity, and there's an anger in your gaze that he hasn't seen before. It's so different from the gentle look you usually give him, and it makes him ache.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he says. "I swear, I didn't."

"Then why did you?" you ask, and there's a note of pleading in your voice. “I spent so long wondering, worrying, and you just... You didn't care."

"Of course I did," he argues. "It wasn't about that."

"Then what was it about, Echo?" you demand. "What was so important that you thought you couldn't tell me? That you couldn't comm me, or send a message, or do anything that would have let me know you were alive? That would have told me you were okay?"

"I didn't think —"

"What, that I'd care? That I'd worry? That I'd miss you? That I'd wonder where you were, and if you were okay, and what the hell happened to you?" you say, your voice rising.

Echo can feel the frustration building inside him, and he knows he shouldn't respond, knows that getting angry won't help, but the words tumble out before he can stop them. "I'm sorry," he snaps. "I wasn't exactly thinking clearly."

"That's not an excuse," you snap back, and Echo blinks, shocked. You're the most level-headed person he's ever met, and he's never heard you yell before.

"Yeah, well, it's the best one I've got," he says.

"Echo, I loved you," you say, and the past tense stings. "When Fives told me what happened to you, I —" Your voice catches, and the fight goes out of him. He can see the pain on your face, the hurt in your eyes, and he can't help but feel responsible. "I can't even describe it. It felt like my whole world was ending. And I don’t blame you for doing your duty, but I do blame you for not coming back to me."

"I know," he whispers. "I'm sorry. I really am."

You shake your head, turning away from him. "Why didn't you comm me?"

Echo hesitates. He doesn't want to admit his fears, his worries, the insecurities that have plagued him. He doesn't want to tell you how much he doubted, how much he doubted you. It feels too vulnerable, too raw. And it would only make you feel worse. But the longer the silence stretches, the more you deserve the truth. And he can't avoid it forever.

"I didn't think I was worth it," he says, his voice low. He can feel the heat in his cheeks, the sting of embarrassment. He can't look at you, doesn't want to see the pity, the disappointment, the anger. "I didn't think I was worth it."

You turn to face him, your expression softening.

"You were all I had left," he says. He feels exposed, and it's not a comfortable feeling, but he can't stop now. Not with the way you're looking at him. Not when he's so close to fixing this, to getting you back. "After everything that happened, I just... I couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't think you'd want to see me."

"You really thought I'd just leave you?"

Echo can hear the hurt in your voice, and he's surprised at the sharpness of it. He expected to be met with some amount of anger, but he didn't expect it to cut so deep. He didn't think his insecurities would upset you so much. He's used to it, by now. After everything he's been through, the doubts and worries have become a constant, an almost comforting presence. But you were never supposed to know about them.

"It's not that," he says. "I know you wouldn't have left me. It's just... I didn't want to drag you down with me."

"That's stupid," you reply. There's no malice in your voice, but there's no sympathy, either. "What makes you think I couldn't handle it?"

"It's not about what you could handle," Echo says. "You didn't sign up for this. You didn't sign up for any of it."

"I signed up for you," you argue, and Echo is startled by the fierceness of your tone.

"And look at what that got you."

You fall silent, and Echo regrets the words the second they leave his mouth. He's always known he wasn't good enough for you, but it's different to actually say it out loud. It makes it real. And he's not sure he's ready for that. But you're looking at him like you can't believe he said it, and the disappointment in your eyes makes him feel even worse.

Your eyes rove over him, taking in the scarring, the metal implants, the ports and wires, the armor. You look like you’re seeing him for the first time, and the disgust and fear he’d thought might appear are nowhere to be found, just a profound sense of sadness and resignation.

"Oh, Echo," you breathe. The words are quiet, but they feel like a slap, and he has to look away, not wanting to meet your gaze.

"I'm not the man you knew," he says. He sounds defeated, even to his own ears. His eyes are burning, and he has to fight to keep the tears from falling. He hates how weak he feels, how small, how vulnerable. "I can't be. I'm... I'm not him anymore."

"Yes, you are," you insist. You reach out and take his hand, squeezing gently, and the sensation makes him jump. He'd almost forgotten how warm you are, how soft. How safe. He wants to hold on, to pull you close, to never let go. "You're still the same man, the same Echo, I just..."

"What?" he asks, when you trail off. "You just what?"

You sigh, dropping his hand and running your fingers through your hair, tugging lightly. The familiar gesture makes him ache. "I don't know, Echo," you admit. "I'm... I'm sad. And I'm angry. But I'm mostly just... Confused."

"Confused about what?"

"I'm confused as to why you didn't come back to me," you say. "I'm confused as to why you thought I'd want anything else."

"I thought you deserved better," he says, the words sounding hollow, even to his own ears. "I thought you deserved someone who was whole, who could give you a normal life, who didn't have a hundred years of baggage and trauma to deal with. And I was terrified that you already had that."

"Had what?"

"A normal life," he answers. "Without me. And the more I thought about it, the more I convinced myself it was true."

"It's not," you say. Your voice is quiet, but firm, and Echo looks at you, searching for any trace of doubt, of hesitation, of insincerity. But all he finds is determination, and it makes his heart clench. The intensity in your gaze is too much, and he has to look away. His eyes trail over the walls, the ceiling, the floor, lingering on the groceries on the table, the dishes in the sink, the empty bottles of wine shoved into the trash, the pile of laundry on the couch. There’s a dent in the wall that wasn't there the last time he was here, and the carpet is worn. He wonders when that happened.

He feels a tug on his arm, and then you're reaching up to cup his face, your hands soft and warm. You turn his head to face you, your thumb stroking his cheek. The touch is gentle, comforting, and Echo can't stop the sigh that escapes him. It's been so long since someone touched him like this, and it's nice. It's more than nice. It's familiar. It's safe. It's home.

"I only wanted you," you whisper.

"Even after everything?" he asks. He doesn't mean to sound so incredulous, but he can't help it. He's spent so long convincing himself that you were better off without him, and now, hearing you say the opposite, hearing you say the words he'd only ever hoped for, the ones he'd tried to convince himself were true... It's a lot to take in.

"Even after everything," you affirm.

"You could have had anyone," he says. "Why me?"

"Because I love you," you answer, as if it's the simplest thing in the galaxy. As if it's the most obvious thing in the universe. "And I don't want anyone else."

"Cyar'ika..." His voice cracks, and the tears are falling freely now. You wipe them away, and the touch makes his chest ache.

"I've never stopped loving you, Echo," you say. Your voice is barely audible, but Echo hears it. And it's the best sound he's ever heard. "And I don't plan on stopping now."

"I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry I left you, and I'm sorry I didn't comm you, and I'm sorry I was such a coward, and I'm —"

"Shh," you murmur, cutting him off. "I forgive you."

Echo can't speak. He's not sure he can move, can't even breathe. The relief is overwhelming, and it threatens to knock him off his feet. His chest tightens, and the tears won't stop falling, and he doesn't know what to do. He's missed you so much, has regretted leaving every single day, and now that you're here, now that he has you back, he can't find the words to express how grateful he is, how relieved, how happy.

"You really thought I was going to leave you?" you ask, and Echo can hear the note of humor in your voice, can see the ghost of a smile on your face. It's reassuring, and he lets himself smile, too.

"Honestly? Yes," he admits.

"Never," you reply.

Echo leans down and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. You move your hands down his face, brushing the tears away with your thumbs, before bringing them around his neck, wrapping your arms around him. He moves to do the same, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around your waist. You let out a quiet gasp of surprise, and Echo chuckles, holding you tighter.

"I missed you," he whispers, and it feels good to say the words out loud. "So much."

"I missed you, too," you say, your breath warm against his neck. You tilt your head and press a kiss against his throat, and Echo feels his heart stutter. "More than I can say."

Echo hums and pulls away, bringing his hand up to brush the hair away from your face. Your skin is warm, and soft, and he leans in and presses a kiss against your forehead, savoring the contact. You sigh, and he can't resist the urge to kiss you again, this time on the cheek.

"Echo," you murmur, letting out a shaky breath.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, and then your jaw, and your grip on his neck tightens, your fingers digging into the fabric of his blacks. He moves down your throat, trailing kisses along the column of your neck, and you gasp.

"I missed you, too," he murmurs, and you laugh.

"Yeah, I got that," you say. "Now, will you please kiss me?"

Echo smiles and obliges.

The kiss is soft and sweet, and it tastes like home. He cups the back of your neck, his scomp moving to rest on your hip, and you let out a pleased noise, your hands sliding down to his shoulders. The warmth of your mouth, the way your lips part, the little gasps and sighs you make, it all makes him want to get closer, to be nearer.

You break the kiss, and Echo lets out a quiet whimper. You chuckle and rest your head on his shoulder, and Echo brings his hand up to stroke your hair, his fingers combing through the strands. You sigh and lean into his touch, and he can't help the contented smile that spreads across his face.

"I'm glad you're here," you murmur. "I'm glad you came back."

"Me, too," he says. He tilts your head up and presses a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering. You close your eyes and nuzzle his neck, and Echo sighs, holding you close. It feels so good to have you in his arms again, to be able to hold you, and he wishes he could stay here forever. But the reality of the situation catches up with him, and he can't help the wave of guilt that washes over him.

"I'm sorry, Cyar'ika," he says.

You frown, and pull away slightly. "What are you apologizing for?"

"I didn't think this through," he admits. "I... I didn't know what was going to happen, and now..." He pauses, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I just... I'm sorry. I’m leaving soon, and I know it's going to be hard, and I know you're going to have to say goodbye again, and I'm —"

"Echo," you interrupt, and your voice is firm. You put your hand on his chest, and he can feel the heat of it, even through the layers of armor and clothing. "I know what I signed up for. I'm not expecting anything different."

"But —"

"No," you cut him off. "No buts. I knew what this was, Echo. And I still want it."

"But you shouldn't have to," Echo argues. "I don't want to put you through that."

"Well, it's a little late for that," you reply. Your tone is sharp, and Echo winces. "Look, Echo. I know the situation isn't ideal, but I'm not going to walk away because it's hard. And I'm not going to stop caring just because it hurts." You look at him, and the determination in your gaze makes his heart skip a beat. "You're worth it, okay? No matter what."

"Cyar'ika —"

"No," you say, shaking your head. "You're not changing my mind. You can try, but it's not going to work. So don't waste your time." You give him a stern look, and then your face softens. "Okay?"

"Okay," Echo agrees. He knows it's futile to argue. He's never been able to say no to you. Not when it matters. "I'm still sorry, though."

You roll your eyes, and then stand on your toes and give him a quick kiss. "You're lucky I love you," you say, and the words make him feel lighter.

"Yeah, I am," he agrees, grinning.

"So, what now?" you ask.

Echo shrugs, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. He's been so focused on finding you, on convincing you to forgive him, on making things right, that he hasn't thought about what comes next. The prospect of it is both exhilarating and terrifying, and he doesn't know where to start. There's so much to do, and so little time. And he doesn't want to waste another second.

"Do you want to stay?" you offer.

"Stay?"

"Here," you clarify. "For a while. I don't know how long you can, but..." You pause, a flush spreading across your cheeks. “I was going to make dinner. If you wanted to stay."

"Dinner?" Echo repeats, and he can't hide the excitement in his voice. The idea of a home-cooked meal is so far removed from his life now, so distant, that the thought of it almost makes him lightheaded. "Really?"

You laugh, and the sound fills him with warmth. "Yes, Echo. Really."

"What are you making?" he asks. The question sounds childish, and he can't believe how eager he is, how excited.

"Just a simple dish," you say. You move towards the counter and begin putting the groceries away, and Echo follows you, a smile spreading across his face. While you tell him about the recipe, he moves toward your sink, picking up a dish and turning the water on. You look over at him, and the fondness in your eyes makes him blush. "You don't have to do that, Echo."

"I know," he replies. "I want to."

"Well, alright then."

The two of you work together, talking and laughing as you wash the dishes and prepare the food. Echo feels lighter than he has in months, and it's a relief to be here with you, to have something normal and familiar to do. Something so domestic, so ordinary, and yet, so special.

He wants to remember this.

When the food is ready, you gesture to the table, and Echo takes a seat. You sit across from him, and for a moment, the two of you just look at each other. He's missed you, missed this. Missed being here, missed having someone who knew him, someone he could trust. Someone he could love.

You're both quiet, and Echo can see the wheels turning in your head, can see the way your eyes dart over him, taking everything in. You're cataloging, committing him to memory too. The realization hits him, and his chest tightens. He'll be leaving soon, and you're doing what you can to make sure you won't forget him. It's a sobering thought, and he's not sure how to handle it.

"Hey," you say, and Echo looks up, meeting your gaze. "It's okay. We'll be fine."

"How did you know?" he asks, startled.

You shrug. "It's written all over your face."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I wish I could stay."

"It's okay," you repeat. “We have the night, and that’s more than enough. For now, let's just enjoy the time we have."

Echo nods.

You're right.

You always are.

You smile, and it's so beautiful, so genuine, that it takes his breath away. You reach across the table and take his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. He squeezes back, and you lean forward, resting your elbows on the table and putting your chin in your hand. The way you're looking at him, the affection in your eyes, it makes him feel like he's the only thing that matters, like he’s home.

And, right now, he is.

He's missed this.

He's missed you.

And as the two of you sit there, enjoying each other's company, Echo knows he's made the right choice. He knows that coming back was worth it, that finding you, fixing things, making things right, it's all been worth it. And he knows that, no matter what, he'll be back.

He'll find his way back to you.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

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@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

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@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

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@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams

#arc trooper echo #echo x reader #tbb echo #the bad batch #tbb echo x reader #the bad batch x reader #tbb echo x you #clone x reader #echo x you #arc trooper echo x reader #roy writes #almost through my current requests 💙#sorry it took so long!!

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dovveri · 6 months ago

Note

I know this request is soo Y/n-ish but if ever you can read this, please make a fic including Momo and Sana where they are fighting over y/n which is me but I prefer Momo more huehuehueheu thank yah love lotss!!

if i die young

synopsis: you're saved by someone at work that you haven't met before and you quickly become close. your roommate isn't too fond of this though.

warnings: mostly fluff but gets vvv angsty towards the end, mentions of death, implied sex, cursing, cheating but not really if you think about it, heavy grief themes, trying so hard to not giveaway the story in the warnings

w/c: 8.4k

a/n: GIGGLE im pretty sure this is not what anon had in mind but i struggled soooo much w this prompt bcs I CANT DO THAT TO MY BABY SANA but i got this wonderful idea while in the shower to punish anon for sending me this prompt that i agonised over for a literal month that does technically fulfil the requirements 😋 enjoy the read mwahaha (and sorry for any plot holes that may come up- come yell at me in asks i have sm love for this fic and id love to yap abt it if anyone notices anything silly)

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

"y/n right?"

you look up, smiling at the woman who's hovering over your desk at work, nodding in acknowledgement.

"i think the boss was asking for you."

you widen your eyes in embarrassment, scrambling up and grabbing the relevant files, "oh shit i'm so sorry i totally forgot! i'll be there in just a second!"

the woman giggles, "it's okay. i told her my dogs ate all of your work."

you pause, looking at her in horror, "i-i- you what?"

"trust me. she's met my dogs. she'll believe it. your meeting with her has been postponed to next week. i'm momo by the way." she smiles, holding out a hand expectantly.

you're still a little in shock, but you take it, noting the way her hands are soft against yours, she must moisturise. "o-oh. t-thanks i guess..."

momo grins, "see you around y/n."

and then she's off, aloof to her surroundings, you think it's kind of adorable.

you sit back at your desk, still a little flabbergasted at your interaction with the strange girl from work.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

"sana! i'm home!" you kick off your shoes, placing them in their allocated slot on your shoe rack.

"kitchen!"

you frown, immediately worried when you hear that word. sana's notorious for her clumsy nature. when you first moved in together, it was essentially an unspoken rule that she was not allowed in the kitchen without supervision.

you quickly take off your coat, rushing into the kitchen.

nothing seemed to be off when you walked in, nothing burning, no alarms ringing, no funky smells that attacked your olfactory senses, you can only hope for the best.

"y/n!" sana's bright smile gives you immediate relief. you narrow your eyes, carefully stepping around the kitchen, looking for any signs of anything wrong.

"what are you doing?"

"making sure that everything is supposed to be where it's supposed to be and nothing is broken."

"why would anything be broken?"

once you're finished with your inspection, you turn to sana, zeroing in on her and grabbing her face with your hands, squeezing her cheeks together.

it's kind of adorable when she frowns, pouting and starting to protest, but you shush her, patting her down and inspecting her face to make sure she hasn't done anything to herself or hurt herself in any way.

"okay it seems like we're safe." you let her go but she immediately latches onto you, bringing you into a hug with an airy giggle.

"i'll forgive you for thinking i burnt down our kitchen."

you roll your eyes but return her hug, only breaking away when the doorbell rings.

"i'll get it. go clean up." sana smiles sweetly, patting your butt as she moves around you towards the door.

you roll your eyes, heading into your shared bedroom, taking off your work clothes and changing into a more comfortable set of sweats and an oversized t-shirt.

when you walk back out, you see sana's set up the dining table with takeaway.

"what's this?" you smile teasingly when you sit down.

"i wanted to cook but then i thought about the last time i wanted to cook and i decided to get takeaway for us instead." she grins, "see i'm responsible! can't believe you thought i'd try anything again after last time."

"i scraped some cheese off the ceiling the other day."

"aaaand now there's no more cheese on the ceiling! problem solved!"

you both laugh, and you help her set the table, opening the takeaway boxes and beaming at the smell of tteokbokki.

once you're both settled in across from each other, content with filling your mouths with fluffy rice cakes and spicy sauce, you talk through your days.

"there was this person i've never met before at work today."

"oh?"

"yeah she was a little strange, but she was really sweet. i had forgotten that i had a meeting with the boss today and she made up some excuse about how her dogs had messed with my work and apparently the boss believed it so now i don't have to get my deadline stuff done until next week."

"that's cute. did you get her name?"

"momo i think. sounds japanese, think you know her?"

"what because all japanese people in seoul know each other?"

"i didn't mean it like thattttt!"

sana giggles, "i know i know i'm just teasing. but no i don't know her. thinking about replacing me already y/n?"

you roll your eyes, picking out a fishcake with your chopsticks and popping it in your mouth, "just waiting for the lease to end so i can finally get rid of you actually."

sana feigns offense, "good luck finding someone else who wants to sleep next to your blanket stealing ass then."

"oh you didn't know? now that i'm working a real job i can actually afford to not have to share bedrooms anymore."

"why haven't you done it yet then?"

you blush, stabbing another rice cake.

sana laughs, bright and loud, "you looooooove sleeping with me admit it."

"absolutely not."

"you doooooo you do."

"eat your food sana."

sana's laughing and you can't help but smile. her laugh was always infectious, it was the surefire way to make your day better when you were feeling a little down in the dumps, she was the epitome happiness.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

it's a few days later when you bump into momo again.

normally you make your own food to bring for lunch but today, sana had woken up sick so you had spent the morning making sure she was okay and calling in sick for her at work.

so now you were stood in line at the cafeteria, wondering just what was taking the line so long to move, your break would probably be over by the time you got to the front of the line at the pace it was going.

"i'm sorry ma'am for the last time you can't pay for your food with vouchers to baskin & robbins! if you don't move along i'll have to call security so please-"

"no you don't understand! i was told that i could use these anywhere when i won them!"

you try peeking over the shoulders of annoyed corporate soldiers and you're surprised when you catch a familiar head of raven black hair at the front of the line.

you quickly push forward, excusing yourself as people look at you in irritation.

"momo!" you call out, shoving aside a 6 foot man with blue eyes that probably worked in the finance sector.

momo turns to you, looking a little frazzled with various coupons in her hands.

"hey! what's up?" you're a little breathless from pushing in line.

she pouts, turning back to the cashier who looks like he's about to start balding from stress. "apparently i can't use these vouchers that i won at drag bingo last week."

you grab the coupons and inspect the terms and conditions. "momo these are only allowed to be used at baskin & robbins."

"but they said i could use them anywhere!"

"at any branch sweetie. not literally anywhere."

"oh... i didn't bring my wallet." she frowns, pocketing her coupons again.

"it's okay i got it." you quickly pay the cashier who looks relieved to finally get the line moving again. you pick up her tray and gesture for her to follow you to an empty table.

"you didn't have to do that y/n!"

you shrug, sitting down and sliding her tray over to her. "it's no biggie. you kinda rescued me earlier in the week anyway. i hadn't actually finished all the work i needed to get done before showing the boss. i woulda come up with some shit excuse for not finishing it so you saved my ass."

"oh don't worry about that. mina and i have been good friends since our days in dance school together, she may be a scary boss but she's a real nerd outside of the workplace."

"oh? i didn't know boss myoi could dance!"

momo happily opens her sandwich, taking a bite and speaking with her mouth full, "you can actually find her on youtube. she was a pretty famous ballerina back in the day. woulda made it big if her parents didn't drag her back to run this company."

"and you?"

"what about me?"

"you dance?"

momo laughs, "yeah. i spend most of my spare time in the studio. unfortunately it doesn't really pay well. i was going to be evicted until mina was sweet enough to offer me a job here so i can afford my rent and continue doing what i love so i owe her a lot. oh speaking of- you weren't able to get any food! here-" she slides over her salad and soup.

"oh no no it's okay-"

"please just take it. it's not much anyway, i'll still have to come up with something to pay you back."

"you know what? those baskin & robbins vouchers. do you have anyone to go with?"

momo looks up at you from her sandwich in surprise, "no i don't."

"you free after work today?"

"i was just going to head into the studio but i could free that up."

"great. i'll see you in the lobby at 5 then. we can head to that store in gangnam, the one where you can taste test like all the flavours."

"really?!" momo's eyes brigten, "i've always wanted to do that but no-one's ever wanted to go with me."

"well perfect! sounds like a plan then!"

you grin at her excitement. you were always a little more than awkward, sana was the one who found it easy to go up to anyone on the street and befriend them. it was a little harder for you to make friends, you were lucky when sana found you interesting enough in your first year of college to strike up a conversation, and then find you interesting enough to keep coming back until you were inseparable and moved in together to save money on rent. you haven't really needed anyone else aside from sana since then, but momo was different, you felt an instant connection with her that you haven't felt since sana. she intrigued you, and you wanted to get to know her better.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

you're laughing at momo's face when she cringes in disgust.

"eugh what is that? that was disgusting!"

"i think it was like pikachu something something." you manage out between laughs.

"eugh pikachu guts and blood for sure. i never thought pikachu would taste like banana and vomit."

"i can't believe you just ate pikachu! he's such a little cutie surely he can't taste bad!"

"oh yeah? you try it-" she's spooning a bit of the vile yellow coloured ice cream and shoving it into your mouth while you're still vulnerable from laughing.

the first hit of banana on your tastebuds has you coughing immediately. and now it's momo's turn to laugh at you, it's a bright, almost wheeze-like sound, you think it's cute.

"okay yeah- we need to ban the killing of pikachu- this shit should not be served-"

"i'm glad you're on the save pikachu agenda as well then. but there's no way we are finishing that one."

"we don't have to. these were technically free anyway because of your amazing bingo skills after all."

she giggles, "okay but i'm still going to see if we can get replacement flavours. i wanted to try that gone with the wind flavour as well anyway."

you wish her luck as she slides out of the booth, bringing your tray of tester ice-creams with her towards the counter and waving down an employee.

you turn on your phone, scrolling to your messages to find sana's sent you a few unread texts.

bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: u coming home tn?

bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: don't ignore me y/nnnnn

bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: am i eating dinner on my own? 😞

bestest friend in the world🐿️💜: u better be safe idiot if ur not home by 10 i'm calling the police and filing a missing persons report

you laugh a little at her messages.

y/n: don't call the police! i'm fine! i'm just out with that coworker i told u about a few days ago. the one who saved my ass w my boss. i'll be home afterwards don't wait up!

momo's coming back before you can see sana's reply. you slide your phone back into your pocket, grinning at her, "what abomination have you brought back for us to try this time?"

momo places the new tray down, "i kinda forgot most of the names but at least the colour palette this time looks a little more edible."

"really? this neon green looks edible to you?"

"hey! a lotta green flavoured foods are edible! most vegetables, apples, green tea, mint... besides there's no way anything here will be worse than pikachu guts and blood."

you scrunch your nose a little when she slides in next to you, "i wouldn't want to try a vegetable flavoured ice cream anyway."

"you're just a hater." she's grinning when she spoons out a bright pink ice cream and pops it in her mouth.

you scoff, "am not!"

"suuuuuure. i actually know this place that does this incredible carrot ice cream. you can prove you're not a hater if you come and try it with me next week. there's a new branch opening on friday."

"alright. it's so on."

you spend the rest of the night laughing and poking fun at each other. you got along really well with momo, it felt so easy to connect with her. your levels of awkwardness rubbed off on each other perfectly. you enjoyed hanging out with her, and you're glad work seemed a lot less lonelier now.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

it ends up being really late by the time you get home. momo and you had decided to go for a round of karaoke after ice-cream and the mix of soju and trying to scream to reach the high note in twice's i can't stop me meant you had lost track of time. it was okay though because it was the weekend tomorrow so neither of you had work.

you slip off your shoes in the dark, careful not to make too much sound that could wake sana.

you're tiptoeing into the living room when the lamp light suddenly turns on, and sana's sitting on the couch with her arms crossed.

"you're alive."

you giggle a little at sana looking alike to an evil villain waiting for you to come home. she was much too happy-go-lucky to pull it off.

"what's funny?"

"noooothing."

she frowns, "are you drunk?"

"maaaayyybee."

sana stands up, walking past you and into the kitchen, you follow her like a lost puppy.

"drink this." she pushes a glass of water into your hand, watching you expectantly until you get the message and bring the cup to your lips.

"all of it."

you groan, gulping down the water, and cringing at the fullness you feel in your stomach from all the liquids sloshing around.

sana sighs, rubbing her forehead. "i was worried when you didn't return my texts y'know."

you frown now, realising sana was actually a little annoyed. "i'm sorry. i should've texted you i'd be home late."

she softens, always so forgiving, "it's okay. did you have fun?"

you grin dumbly, nodding, "momo's soooo funny."

"momo?"

"the coworker i was telling you about! she tried to-" you hiccup, "she tried to pay in the cafeteria today with baskin & robbin vouchers and held up pretty much the entire building. i paid instead and we went out and used the vouchers after work, theeeeeen we did karaoke!" you giggle, remembering the day you've had.

"oh..." she's frowning and you can't understand why so you poke her forehead, trying to undo the frown on her face.

"why are you sad?"

"i'm not."

"you're something."

sana rolls her eyes, grabbing your hands to stop playing with her face and leading you towards the bathroom. you're easily distracted, humming a silly tune that's come to mind while she sits you down on the toilet and starts wiping your makeup for the day off. it's a little more complicated when she tries to take your contacts out because you can't stop giggling and blinking but she manages in the end, making you rinse some mouthwash instead of brushing your teeth because she could tell you were falling into the sleepy stage of being drunk.

she's pulling you up and leading you towards your shared bedroom now, putting you to bed and then sliding in next to you, reaching to cover the blanket over the both of you.

you yawn, turning to face her and knock your foreheads together gently, but when you feel the wrinkles still there you open your eyes. "why are you still frowning?"

you can feel her immediately try and relax, "'m not."

"you were."

"ugh just go to sleep y/n. it's late and i'm tired." she's turning around and shuffling away from you which is weird because she was always the one who cuddled and latched onto you before bed.

you miss her warmth immediately, inching towards her and draping an arm over her midriff, entangling your legs and pushing your nose into her hair. "'m sorry."

she sighs against you, grabbing your hands and playing around with your fingers. "it's okay. just don't forget about me yeah?"

"how could i forget about you?"

"goodnight y/n."

you want to ask her more, but you can feel your eyes growing heavier, letting them drift shut, dreaming of ice-cream and cuddles.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

it became a regular thing.

momo and you would hang out after work every friday, she was quickly becoming one of your closest friends.

one night, when you're spread out on a picnic blanket on a hill a little bit away from the city, counting the stars, she asks you, "are you seeing anyone y/n?"

you look at her surprised, "no. why?"

"why aren't you seeing anyone? surely it's not because no one's asked you out before. you're gorgeous and fun to be around. is it because no one's been good enough?"

you blush a little at the compliments, turning to lay back down and stare at the sky, "i think i just haven't been ready for a long time."

"ready?"

"for a relationship. i told you about my best friend sana right?"

momo hums, coming up on her elbow to peer down at you while you try and make out the various constellations in the night.

"once i found her, it kinda felt like everything was okay, like i never really needed anything more. i know a lot of people centre their lives around romantic love and finding their soulmate and whatever, but i've never been like that. with sana, everything was enough. i felt like if i wished for anything more it might disrupt that."

"is sana seeing anyone?"

you chuckle a little, thinking to sana's past romantic escapades, "she's tried but nothing's really worked out. i think we feel the same in that way. that as long as we have each other we don't really need anyone else."

there's a contemplative silence for a bit while momo studies your face. you let her, comfortable enough with her that it doesn't feel awkward even when it is silent. you connect the stars in your head, smiling when you realise you've made out the capricornus constellation.

"what about me?"

the words are spoken softly into the night, you almost don't catch it, but fate would have it blown softly your way, tickling your ears with the question. "what do you mean?"

"you say you and sana don't need anyone else. how do you feel about me?"

you sit up a little then, leaning back on your elbows as you avert your gaze from the arrowhead-like collection of stars to eyes that shine just as bright. "you're different. you're the first person to come into my life since sana that i've felt... like we were meant to meet y'know? all that soulmate stuff and whatever may be cringey but it's nice to believe in. sometimes i think there are just people that i'm meant to meet, and people that i'm not. and fate brought me you."

momo's leaning forward, her eyes drifting down to your lips, her next few words come out in a whisper, "so if i did this..." her eyes flicker back up to yours, letting you pull away if you wanted to, but you find yourself fixed on her lips as well. so when she closes the distance between the two of you, pressing her lips against yours, just barely there, you sigh into her. the smallest brush of your lips together has you feeling light-headed and hazy, she breaks away from you all too quickly, eyes filled with wonder. you can see the reflection of the night sky in her eyes.

you smile softly at her, lips still tingly from the brief kiss.

"if i did that... would that feel like i've disturbed the equilibrium you've found with sana?"

you shake your head gently, "no. it feels just right actually."

when you lean in again, it does feel just right, like the stars have aligned for this one moment. like everything that's happened to you in life has lead you to this.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

someone else didn't feel that way.

she's sitting on the couch, up late again. it was becoming more and more often that she would find herself waiting up for y/n to come home.

she hears the telltale sign of the door unlocking and you stumbling in blindly, trying to adjust to the darkness of your apartment and slipping your shoes off to place carefully on the shoe rack next to sana's.

you're kind of expecting sana to be standing there waiting for you when you come back.

"hey sana. i'm home."

"late."

"yeah i was out with-"

"momo."

"yeah..." you rub your neck shyly, heading towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. she follows you wordlessly.

"is something going on between you and momo y/n?"

you raise an eyebrow, swallowing the water in your mouth before answering, "would it be a problem if there was?"

sana frowns, "no but... i just thought you'd tell me is all."

"i do tell you everything sana. every time i come home late i tell you what we've done. it feels like you don't really want to hear it most of the time though."

she pouts, "i do! i do want to know what's going on. i'm sorry i just... i told you i just don't want you to forget about me."

"and i won't sana. i could never forget you, i don't know why you worry about that." you step up to her, cupping a cheek and tilting it up so she's looking at you.

her eyes are slightly shiny and you suddenly feel terrible for making her wait up for you all these nights, "i just- ever since you started hanging out with her, i feel like you've had less time to spend with me. and i know! i knew eventually you'd find someone to spend the rest of your life with i just- i just didn't know it'd be like this and i wasn't prepared and i don't want to lose you yet-"

"woah! woah woah woah slow down! sweetie what? how long- how come you've never told me this before? i've always felt that- and i told momo this- but i've always felt that i never needed anyone else but you! i always thought that we were the ones that were going to spend the rest of our lives together, you're the only one i want to spend the rest of my life with. you'll never lose me sana i promise and momo- look just because i don't need anyone else in my life aside from you, doesn't mean it's that terrible if there is someone else that makes me happy right?"

"but- don't i make you happy?"

"oh baby you do, you do, you make me so happy." you brush a thumb across her cheek, "look how about i set up a meeting for you and momo to meet. it's about time anyway and i really think you'd get along really well if you got to know her."

she sniffles a little, thinking it over, before finally nodding albeit with slightl hesitance.

you grin, pulling her into a hug and she laughs against you, "you better be paying though."

you laugh as well, overjoyed your best friend was going to meet your... anyway, it didn't matter. sana was just happy to hold you and be close to you, letting her anxieties around you fade into the back of her mind.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

"i'm so sorry momo she promised she'd be here." you sigh in frustration, picking up your phone again to check if sana's replied to any of your messages or calls.

momo smiles kindly, "it's okay. she's probably just caught up in something. don't worry about it!"

"eugh yeah it's just really annoying because we already rescheduled this twice and now she's just not even showing up. wait... do you think something's happened to her? she's not normally bad with replies- oh god what if something's happened-"

"y/n! it's okay! she's probably just somewhere with bad reception right now. i'm sure she'll get back to you soon. should we order first? get your mind off things?"

you sigh, flipping your phone over, not wanting it to distract from the date you were now on with momo. she smiles gently, taking your hand and squeezing.

"yeah that sounds good. have you had a look at the menu yet?" you glance over at the waiter who had seated you, whispering to his coworkers with a sour look on his face, probably from the fact that the two of you have been sat here for almost 40 minutes and only picked at the starter breads and water.

the rest of dinner goes by smoothly. momo is able to distract you from your thoughts about sana and you're thankful for that. being with her was easy, fun. you don't think any of your previous relationships held a candle to momo, and you've only known each other for maybe a month or so.

dessert comes and she's telling you a funny story about how her dog boo had pooped on a guest dancer at her studio and he had to clean it up, only finding out afterwards that his name was also boo. she had apologised profusely and was very embarassed but he was nice about it and had jokingly offered to babysit her dogs anytime.

"speaking of my dogs, i was thinking... do you maybe want to... come over after dinner and meet them?" she's blushing, twirling her fork around and stabbing small pieces of the cheesecake in front of her, eyes avoiding yours.

you beam, "of course! i'd love to!"

"really?" she looks up at you in surprise.

"yeah! i gotta put a face to these little demon dogs you're always talking about."

she whines, "they're not that bad i swear!"

"you know i heard that pets actually take on characteristics of their owners..."

"... what's that supposed to mean?"

"nothing." you tease, pretending to go back to your food.

she kicks you under the table playfully, pouting. you laugh at her, finding her adorable, spooning some of your gelato up and offering it to her. her expression changes immediately when she opens her mouth, accepting the bite with a hum of satisfaction and a grin in thanks.

after dinner, you decide to walk back to momo's since she didn't live too far from the restaurant you had eaten at.

the night air is cool and refreshing, and you don't hesitate to slip your hand into momo's as you stroll along the streets. it's not too busy in this area so you can enjoy the little sounds of the creatures of the night scuttling around in the trees and on the ground. you glance over at momo who has a soft smile on her face, swinging your hands gently with each step, her face adorn with the subtle glimmer of the moon.

she catches you staring, and turns to you with a grin, "something on my face?"

you smile in return, "maaaybe something just-" you step forward, leaning in and hear her breath hitch just slightly when your eyes drop to her lips, you kiss her sweetly, 2 seconds maybe, and then you're breaking away, "there."

she's blushing, and you have a stupid grin on your face like the lovesick fool you are.

"romantic." she rolls her eyes at you, continuing your walk.

"i'll get you flowers next time."

"i'm allergic."

"chocolate then."

"i was joking i'm not allergic but now that you offered, i'll be expecting both."

"what?!"

she laughs, cackles really, her nose scrunches in the most adorable way, hand tightening around yours.

by the time you walk through the door of her apartment, you're a little tired but in the best way possible. the kind of tired where you know you're tired because you've just had the most fantastic day.

the dogs greet you at the door with excitement, panting, tongues out, jumping at momo's legs as soon as she enters. she laughs and bends down, petting them and cooing.

"so this one is dobby, he's a little shyer but he's a sweetheart once he warms up to you. and this little rascal is boo." she points out the two dogs and you bend down, reaching out a hand and letting them sniff you while momo stands up and takes off her jacket, placing it on the coat hanger.

"hiiii nice to meet you boys, i'm y/n, momo's..." you look up at momo, a little hesitant.

she raises an eyebrow at you, crouching down so she's eye level with you again, the dogs between the two of you, thrilled at the attention they're receiving. "girlfriend?"

you beam, giggling and leaning in to kiss her, "girlfriend."

she grins as well, standing up again and heading towards her kitchen, dobby follows her but boo continues to lick at your hand.

"want anything to drink girlfriend?" you can hear her teasing lilt from where you are.

"i'll have whatever you're having girlfriend."

“soy sauce okay then babe?”

your heart stutters at the term of endearment, completely disregarding her drink of choice. “i-i u-um y-yeah!”

you stand up and follow the sound of her laughter into the kitchen, boo pattering along behind you.

"i'm not sure if i want to kiss you if you're the type of person who drinks soy sauce y/n."

"what?! i don't do that!"

"not what i just heard."

you gape at her, but she giggles, coming up to you and planting a kiss on your lips. you can vaguely feel the wag of the dogs' tails at your feet, wondering what exactly their mom's doing letting someone else lick into her mouth.

she breaks away with a sly smirk, "still kissed you."

"uh huh-" you quickly reattach your lips, addicted to the taste of her, the way her lips move against yours, how she smells so close to you, the way her hands grip your shirt tightly, pulling you into her when you push her against the kitchen counter, trapping her against it.

it suddenly gets a lot more serious when she nips your bottom lip softly, and you let out an uncontrollable, but very real moan, and you have to break away painfully.

"my room?" momo breathes against you, your foreheads placed against each other's, sharing the same airspace.

you bite your lip, exactly where she had sunk her teeth into only seconds prior, watching the way she stalks your action like a hawk, "mhm."

and she surprises you when she picks you up easily by the thighs, and you yelp, wrapping your legs around hers and feeling her grin into the next kiss she lands on your lips, navigating her living room and into the bedroom, closing the door behind the both of you so her dogs wouldn't be privy to the sights of you coming apart under your new girlfriend's tongue.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

the next morning, momo kisses you awake with the smell of breakfast wafting into the bedroom. you blush at the sight of her only in an oversized tee, the marks on her thighs reminiscent of your activities the night prior. she doesn't fail to tease you at the red pigment blossoming on your cheeks, pointing out your own marks on your neck and chest.

you spend the morning cuddling on the couch, watching reruns of glee and feeding each other the waffles momo's made for breakfast, stealing kisses in between each bite, the dogs playing around on their own, sometimes hopping into your lap to nose at you or momo, asking for pets and pats.

you smile dreamily as you unlock your door, remembering your time with her, how she promised she'd buy a new toothbrush for you if you promised to come over again, which you did of course, that was obviously a given but you adored her asking.

you step inside finding it quiet. when you place your shoes next to sana's spot on the shoe rack, you realise she's still home when you thought she was meant to be working.

"sana?"

there's no response, so you drop off your things, entering your living room and finding she's nowhere to be found. you frown, heading towards the kitchen, then the bathroom, and finally your room with the door ajar. you peek inside and find a lump under the sheets, her blackout curtains still tightly shut.

you tiptoe inside, hovering over the bed and peeling back the duvet a little to see if she's still asleep.

you don't expect her to yelp, pulling the duvet back and burrowing deeper into the little nest she's made. you hear the telltale signs of her scrambling to cover up the fact that she was crying.

"w-what are you doing here?" her voice is croaky, shaky, you sit tenderly on the side of the bed.

"this is my home."

there's a sniffle, and then "people come home and sleep in their own beds. you didn't."

you sigh, trying not to get frustrated, "sana... you didn't turn up yesterday. and you never called me back or returned any of my texts."

"my grandma was sick."

"is she okay now?"

"y-yeah."

"was she really sick?"

"...no."

you hum, placing a hand gingerly on what you deduct to be her arm.

"i'm not mad."

"you shouldn't be."

you raise an eyebrow, "you stood us up."

"i had my reasons."

"and what were they?"

she sighs under the covers, then suddenly she's whipping them down and leaning into your space, planting her lips on yours.

you're stunned for a second, 2 seconds, and then she's pulling away, and burrowing back under the covers. you barely caught a glimpse of red cheeks and red eyes, your lips tingling from the press of her lips.

it's too late to pull her back out when you come to your senses, touching your fingers to your lips still in mild shock.

"i-i- s-sana i-"

she sighs exasperatedly, "is that reason enough?"

"w-why didn't you tell me?"

"because you were all over this new girl! you barely had time for me anymore!"

"what- that's not- how long have you felt this way sana?"

she groans, shuffling a little, "i don't know. i just know i didn't like it when you started seeing momo."

"so all that about not forgetting you..."

"well yeah... i think i've always liked you. i was just never threatened by someone else taking you away, even with all your past partners you've never- you've always come back to me."

you sigh frustratedly, running a hand through your hair trying to think what exactly this meant for you. "i'm with momo."

she scoffs, "i know."

"we slept together last night."

"... like in the same bed? yeah we sleep together too."

"no like- like slept together slept together."

there's silence for a bit, you can hear the breaths of the both of you, the wheels in her head turning.

"... you've slept with other people before right? what difference does this make?"

"i think i really like her sana."

she sits up then, hair a mess, skin blotchy, eye bags present, but her eyes are fierce. you're hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia. you really hadn't seen sana in so long. seen her smile, heard her laugh, ever since you started going out with momo she started acting weird and you knew why now, but she was right when she said you had pushed her away because of it, preferring to bask in the new romance momo offered you, avoiding dealing with the complicated feelings that arose when you thought about sana. you missed her.

"if this is you rejecting me just come out with it. stop beating around the bush and say it. say you don't love me like i love you."

"... you... you love me?"

she rolls her eyes impatiently, a crease forming between her eyebrows that you want to reach out and smooth out of habit, "yes."

"i-" you can feel tears welling up, you don't want to choose between your best friend and your new lover. you don't want to lose sana because of this.

sana notices because she notices everything about you, and her eyes soften, wanting to touch and comfort but resigning to fiddling with her fingers instead.

"just go." she says softly after you're unable to form words for the next minute.

"no but i-"

"i'm tired y/n. just go." she's turning around onto her side, preparing to lie down and curl up again, but in the spur of the moment, you grab her wrist, pulling her into you and kissing her again.

she lets out a sound of surprise, eyes widening, but lets you kiss her.

you're not even sure what you're doing, all you can think is you can't lose sana. not like this. not when the entire future you've planned out in your head includes her. not when she tastes like the saline of the tears streaming out of both of your eyes, that and a hint of something that was uniquely sana. not when you both still had so much life left to live together.

all of this remains in your mind when you follow her tear tracks, kissing her neck, her shoulders, down her chest. you can feel her still crying even when she sucks new marks into your skin, right next to the ones momo's left on you last night. the both of you don't know what this means, just that it's the end of something, and you were both going to make the most of it.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

"so how's sana been?"

"huh?"

"your best friend y/n. was everything okay after she wasn't able to make dinner last week? you haven't talked about her much since then."

"oh. yeah she's alright." you're not really sure if she was alright actually. you haven't seen her since the two of you slept together. you woke up to an empty bed, no note, but all of her things were still around so you know she hasn't run off to another country or anything.

"that's good. is there anything you wanna talk about?"

"what do you mean?"

"you've just been a little distant since last week. is it- do you regret- do you still want to be together?"

you look up from pushing your food around your plate, surprised at the vulnerability in momo's voice.

"no- i mean yes of course i still want to be together! i'm sorry i've been off i just-" you sigh dejectedly, "there's something i need to show you after work today."

"oh?"

"yeah... it's not... it's not anything you have to worry about, and i think it'll explain a lot, but it's also pretty heavy so i understand if you don't want to-"

you're cut off when she grabs your hand, squeezing it gently and smiling, "i'd love for you to show me. i'm just glad you're not breaking up with me one week into the relationship." she jokes a little, trying to lighten the mood, and you smile, grateful for her, but feeling your anxieties pile up knowing that you were about to reveal something to momo that no one else except sana knew. if you wanted this relationship to work though, you needed to do this. you couldn't start this relationship off on the wrong foot, you wanted to do this right.

♰˚☽˚｡⋆

your grip on momo's hand is tight, but she doesn't complain, squeezing back every few minutes to remind you that you weren't alone.

after work, you had driven both you and momo to your destination, a park a little out of the ways. the drive was quiet, momo didn't mind though, humming softly to the music on the radio and staring out the window, glancing back at you every so often. you parked, stepping out of the car, already doubting the decision of coming here.

there are a few other people in the park milling about. momo smiles politely at an old couple who break away from a hug to nod greetings at you. you barely notice them though, your tunnel vision and your thoughts becoming louder as you get closer.

you pull along momo who's holding a large bunch of flowers that you had stopped by at the florist on your drive to pick up.

you spot her then. avoiding eye contact as you get closer to her.

then you're standing in front of her.

"y/n."

momo lets out a little muted gasp behind you, but you squeeze her hand, focusing forward.

"sana."

"i see you've decided to forcefully make momo and i meet like this."

"i didn't have any other option."

"there's always another option y/n."

"not when it comes to you sana."

she tilts her head, "what is that supposed to mean?"

you shuffle your feet a little, "you know what it means."

she sighs, stepping closer and cupping your cheek. "why are you crying?"

you're surprised at her statement, the hand that's not holding momo's coming up to wipe hastily at your eyes.

sana's hand drops along with her face. "i thought you said you'd never forget me."

"and i never will sana."

"what's this then? it feels an awful lot like goodbye."

you can't contain the tears streaming down your cheeks, "i could never say goodbye to you sana."

sana's crying now too when she looks up, "don't then. don't say goodbye. say you'll pick me. say we'll stay together for the rest of our lives, like we promised when we were kids. say you love me y/n."

"i-i- i can't sana! i can't do that!"

"why not?"

"because- because i still have the rest of my life sana."

she sniffles, wiping at her eyes. how you wished you could see her smile just once more.

"i guess this is it then."

"no. no this isn't- i told you sana i'll never forget you. you'll always be with me. everything i do i'll always think about you, every new person i meet, every new life stage i enter, i'll think about you. i- i- i loved you sana."

then sana's in your arms, crying into your neck while you hold her, sobbing nearly hysterically, clutching onto everything, a film roll of memories playing behind your eyelids, of the first time you met, the first kiss you shared drunk at a college party, the times you'd piggy back sana from the library to your shared apartment after attempting to pull an all-nighter, the time you first signed your lease together, the time she squealed and brought you into a hug after you got your first job, insisting on a celebration, every single birthday, graduation, milestone, every single moment you've shared with her crosses your mind.

"i have to let you go now." you croak into her ear, voice still shaky and laden with emotion.

she's quiet for a bit, then she pulls back, eyes wet but smiling. she's smiling. oh god you've missed it. "i understand." she says against your lips, foreheads knocked against one another's. you close your eyes, committing to memory her smile, each line, each crease, you were never going to forget her.

when you blink your eyes open again, she's gone, the only evidence of her existence, the headstone reading:

in loving memory of

minatozaki sana

1996 - 2019

you don't even realise you're crouching in front of the headstone now, having let go of momo's hand long ago, until you hear a small rustle behind you and you look up to see momo offering the flower bouqet to you and crouhing down. you smile in gratitude, taking it from her and placing it under the letters of the headstone gently, rearranging to make sure it fit perfectly.

you speak up after a while, having left momo in the dark for long enough now. "it was a freak accident. she was coming home late after work because there was this kid in her class who's parents didn't come pick them up until way after school ended. she was in a rush because it was movie night. no matter how busy our lives got, we always had movie night, something that was stable when everything else in life wasn't i guess. didn't see the car coming. she died on the way to the hospital."

momo's quiet, placing a hand gently on your shoulder.

"i'm sorry i lied to you. i haven't- it's been five years since it happened, but i haven't fully moved on i guess. not until now. you know this is the first time i've visited her grave since the funeral?" you chuckle brokenly, feeling the tears well up again.

"and there's not even anything under here. she was cremated and her parents took her back to japan."

"that doesn't mean you can't still grieve here."

you sigh, "i know. and it's silly y'know? to think i'm still grieiving after 5 years. everyone else has moved on except me. i still- i still saw her everyday- in that way i wasn't lying to you. i just- after the accident and then the rush of the funeral, it all didn't feel real. i still felt like i was going home to sana, and to laughs and smiles and movie nights and cuddles. it didn't make sense y'know? i know death is natural and whatever but it doesn't make sense to me, how someone is here one second and then gone the next. i couldn't make sense of it. so i didn't. she was still alive to me. i still saw her everyday, still packed both our lunches, sent her off to work, took care of her when she was sick, i never got rid of any of her things because in my head she was still using them. she still has her place on the shoe rack at home, her clothes are still mixed in with mine, her expired skin products are still on the bathroom counter. i never- she's always been with me momo i-"

you start blubbering, words no longer making sense and you feel momo shuffling closer to you, wrapping her arm around you tentatively, and you turn and bury yourself into her, crying into the arms of someone physical. someone who was real, who was here in the present with you.

momo doesn't say anything, letting you cry, running her hand through your hair soothingly, letting you take as much time as you needed.

when your sobs subside the sun's setting. you sniffle into her, breathing in her scent, a new comfort to you.

"grief is a monster. not everyone gets out alive, and those that do might only survive in pieces. but it's a monster that can be conquered with time."

you chuckle a little into her. "where'd you get that from?"

"a book i read. summer bird blue. i can lend it to you if you want."

you hum, pulling away from her and wiping at your eyes, smiling softly, "i'd like that."

she smiles as well. "do you think she would’ve liked me?"

you turn back to the gravestone, the cold words etched in marble. "yeah. i think she would’ve loved you. i kept on telling her that y'know? in my head. you two would’ve gotten along famously."

"i'm glad." momo turns to the gravestone as well, "it's nice to finally meet you sana. i promise i'll take care of y/n. you don't have to give me the whole best friend speech about how you'll curse me for the rest of my life or anything. she's special, and i'm grateful you were such a good friend to her. she loved you a lot."

you sniffle, listening to momo talk to sana. when she's done, she looks back at you with a smile, her face illuminated with the golden-orange hues of the sunset.

"thank you momo."

"hmm?"

"remember how i was talking about soulmates? how i think there's people i was meant to meet and people i'm not? thank you. i think sana brought you into my life to help me get over this. i haven't- the last five years has just been me in my head, i've been on autopilot. you were the first person to change that. to make me feel like- like there was a little more brightness to life again."

momo's tearing up now as well, you'll learn that it's not very common that she cries. "i'm glad fate has led me to you then. and i hope you know this doesn't mean sana's gone. she'll always stay with you."

you look back to the tombstone longingly, "i know. i promised i'd never forget her. she will always stay with me."

momo leans into you again, and you rest your head on her shoulder, the cool breeze blowing against you softly, the sun setting behind you.

maybe momo was right. it took you five years, and it'll probably take you a lot longer, but you were going to get over this monster, and you were going to live out the rest of your life, like sana always wanted for you, not in-your-head-sana, the real sana that you're not afraid to admit is gone now, but will always stay in your mind, your heart, with your soul.

#sana #minatozaki sana #twice sana #sana x reader #twice x reader #sana imagines #twice imagines #momo #hirai momo #twice momo #momo x reader #momo imagines #dovveri

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wooziorgans · 3 months ago

Text

2. damage gets done || ljh

summary: a long, difficult conversation puts y/n and jihoon on the same page, but an impromptu visit from y/n’s parents make that page seem chapters away. the best way to get over your feelings? fucking them out.

pairing: idol!woozi x male soloist!reader

genre: angst. smut. fluff. hurt/comfort.

warnings: bi-curious reader. reader has hella daddy issues. homophobia. internalized homophobia. reader has a panic attack of sorts?. readers parents show up n it all goes to shit. readers dad is super homophobic. fingering. sword crossing. jihoon gets his boobs sucked. nipple play. hickeys. kinda mean dom reader. soft dom reader. top reader. mentions of blood/tearing something during sexual activity (not detailed). anal sex. bottom jihoon. sub jihoon like hardcore. unprotected sex. blowjobs. big dick jihoon. bigger dick reader. stomach bulge. aftercare. crying. woozi in glasses n a bun.

word count: 10k

a/n: i did not mean for this to be so angsty i am sooo sorry abt this chapter but it comes w the premise of the prompt im writing off of. i am still sick but i got this done finally. (everybody cheered)

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The following morning, and subsequent weeks after you slept with Jihoon are weird. There’s a new rhythm the two of you fall into, but it’s not an immediate change.

You brushed him off the morning after, locking yourself in your room until it was time to head to the studio, and then avoiding him until he came banging on your door, begging to talk it out. He sounded so hurt; something you’ve only heard in his voice a few times, and never directed towards you. Despite your own internal turmoil, you would not let Jihoon brood in his own feelings. When you did finally let him in to your room, he shyly confessed that he thought he had come onto you too strong, that he was worried he had fucked up your friendship irreversibly.

That wasn’t the case at all. You needed some time to process what had happened last night, but you needed to do it away from Jihoon. His presence had felt overwhelming that morning, and you needed some time to really digest the fact that you sucked your best friend's dick and then he gave you the most mind blowing head you’ve ever received. You told him such, and his cheeks flushed a deep red at the admittance that he was that good at sucking dick. You also apologized for not communicating that to him earlier in the day.

Jihoon took it like a champ, hardly able to hold eye contact with you when he asked what it meant in terms of your friendship now. Respectively, there was your life before Jihoon, your life during the beginning blossoms of friendship with him sprouting its tiny little buds to bloom into something beautiful, and there was now. You’ve never felt so understood by anyone before or after Jihoon, and losing that because you enjoyed having your tongue inside his ass would be a shame. “Nothing has to change. Of course, it kind of has… but we don’t have to make it weird.” You said, hand reaching out to grab his in reassurance.

You could see the anxiety creasing his face, and it dissolved once you touched him. The two of you were just so close as friends that it made sense to keep being friends. If anything else happens, it happens. That was what you told him.

Things did start happening, but it took a few days of unusual distance between the two of you until you got fed up with it and pulled his head down on your lap as you watched television together. You just sat like that, hand in his hair in the way it always was, and things were normal. They had changed slightly, but they were normal.

Until they weren’t. Still half asleep, Jihoon found you in the kitchen one morning making coffee. He wrapped his arms around your waist, bare chest pressing into the skin of your back. Out of reflex, he began pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulders. You shuddered, instinct kicking in to push him away, but then you took a few seconds to really feel his lips on your skin, and you let it happen.

You had spun him around to kiss him on the lips, which ended up in a heated makeout session with Jihoon trapped between you and the counter. He dropped to his knees, pulling your cock out of its constraints before taking you tip to base into his mouth. He had you cumming in minutes, messy bed head in his face until your hands brushed it back, eyes still half lidded with sleep. Jihoon pulled off right as you started to cum, tongue out as he let the thick white ropes hit his mouth and face.

Then he got up and walked away. You heard the shower run as you stood there, gripping the counter as you caught your breath. Later, once he was showered you asked him what the fuck that was about. He just shrugged, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “I’m always horny in the mornings,” was all he offered as he took a seat beside you on the couch.

This prompted another long conversation about the direction things were going. The biggest, and hardest change for both of you to agree on was to stop saying I love you. It was something that came quite naturally in your friendship; at the end of every phone call, leaving each other after hanging out, before you snuck off into your respective rooms for the night, you always said it. Both of you agreed that if you were going to start doing the whole friends with benefits thing, that aspect of your dynamic needed to be null and void to prevent anything more complicated from happening.

After that, things did change. Instead of hiding out in your rooms when you needed to get off, you’d find each other. The biggest change was that you just… kiss each other now. In the mornings, when you have a few minutes alone in the studio, while watching anime together, before you go to bed. Most of the time, it doesn’t go anywhere, but sometimes it does, and you pull Jihoon into your lap to grind against each other.

You’ve learned a lot about Jihoon since all of this started. He’s quite needy, though he’ll never tell you that with his words; opting to tug at your sleeves when he wants something, or just goes after it if he lacks the energy to play the subtle cat and mouse game. You fingered him for the first time a few weeks ago, and discovered that he loves prostate stimulation. It renders him completely spent, has him gasping and whining against you in a way you can never seem to get enough of.

You’ve also learned that Jihoon is super big on aftercare. He says it’s important, which you know it is. You were always the one doing the aftercare with previous sexual partners, but Jihoon takes the reins sometimes and wipes your skin down with a warm cloth while peppering you skin with soft kisses as you come down. You’ve never really been taken care of before, but it’s nice. You and Jihoon have fallen into a natural rhythm with each other. You’re typically in control because Jihoon is rather submissive, but he has his moments where he has you losing your grasp on reality.

It’s so nice; being taken care of. You run a bath for the both of you after you finger him, not wanting there to be any discomfort for him later, and he takes that time to help you wash up. Though your relationship is now quite sexual in its nature, the bones of your friendship peak through in the aftermath.

It’s not all smooth sailing. You have moments of deep, intense panic after getting off with Jihoon. It’s quite sporadic; one day you’ll be fine, the next you’ll do the same thing and hate yourself for it. Jihoon refuses to leave you alone when you're like that, no matter how much you insist. He knows you can’t be left alone to your own thoughts when so much is still being internalized, and you know he’s right.

Most nights you fall asleep with each other, half of it being a safety measure to make sure you don’t overthink in the morning, the other an instinctual craving for another person's warmth. Jihoon sleeps better when you’re there; his normal bouts of insomnia slipping away as he envelopes himself in your arms.

Waking up next to Jihoon has to be one of the sweetest things you’ve ever had the privilege of experiencing. He doesn’t wake up grumpy per se, but he does whine when you go to pull away. His lips are always puffed out in a pout as you try and put a little space between the two of you. He grabs onto your shirt to keep you in bed, burying his face into your chest as he whines incoherently.

This morning is no different. It’s been three months since your friendship with Jihoon morphed into something that required you to have a lot more trust in each other. You fall asleep in Jihoon’s bed almost every night now, waking up next to him all the same.

Today, he’s particularly whiny, fists tight in your shirt as he tries to convince you to stay close to him with soft kisses to your neck and jaw. The issue with this is that Jihoon radiates heat like a furnace. You’re overheating, sweat beading on your forehead as you try to push him off of you. It’s futile; all he does is grab onto you tighter. “Angel, please. You’re gonna boil me alive like this.” You plead, finally kicking the covers off of you. He whines again, finally giving you a little space. Jihoon’s grip on your shirt loosens as he rolls onto his back.

The bun he put into his hair before he went to bed is loose and messy. Jihoon huffs out a breath before he gets out of bed and heads to the bathroom. You almost miss the morning wood he’s sporting, somehow never noticing it against your thigh.

You lay there, catching your breath and cooling down as you wait for him to return. Jihoon is back ten minutes later, bun in his hair fixed and neat, with thick rimmed black glasses on his face. He’s been wearing them a lot recently, not that you mind. He looks good in glasses, despite his eyesight being fine. The new addition to his face distracts you from what's missing.

Jihoon has discarded his boxers, cock fully erect against his stomach as he crawls onto your lap. He seems more awake now as his hands find the hem of your sleep shorts. Even just seeming him so clearly hard has your cock twitching. You were already half hard from the way he pushed himself on you earlier.

You sit up, back leaning against the pillows as your hands settle on his hips. Jihoon palms you through your shorts, teasing you carefully before he pulls your cock out. He plants a soft kiss to your lips, letting it linger as he shifts his hips forward. Your cocks bump into each other, and both of you moan lowly. Jihoon spits into his hand, wrapping it around both of you.

Initially, the concept of rubbing your dick against another mans freaked you out when Jihoon suggested it, but you ended up enjoying it a lot more than you thought you would, especially with Jihoon’s hand in the mix. It became something you did often enough, mostly when you fingered him. “Cleaned myself out. Need your fingers or I’ll lose my mind.” He sighs, eyes closing carefully. Your hand falls to his ass, middle finger carefully finding its way to his entrance. You can feel the remnants of lube around his hole, and instead of stalling, you push the tip of your finger inside of him.

Jihoon clearly wasn’t expecting that, that much is obvious when he squeaks out a choked moan, head falling into your neck to hide the flush spreading over his face.

“Needy this morning, are we?” You jest, voice still low with sleep. Jihoon rolls his hips down on your finger, taking it deeper.

“Fuck, clearly.” He laughs softly. “You can add another, I can take it.” Jihoon’s ass sucks your finger in as you prod at it with a second. While you could slip a second finger in, there's not enough lube present for that. You’re quite cautious when it comes to fingering him; the second time you did it, you ended up tearing something. It wasn’t a huge deal, Jihoon wasn’t in any pain, but there was a little blood.

“I know you can, angel. Grab the lube for me, yeah?” You prompt. The bottle of lube now has a permanent spot on the bedside table from how often it gets used. It’s almost empty. Jihoon rolls his eyes at you, reaching over to grab it. Your hand follows his hips, still keeping your finger inside of him as he moves. He doesn’t move far. You pull your finger out of him once he’s settled back on your lap. He whines, grabbing at your shirt as you take the lube from him. With both of your hands focused on something else and not him, he rolls his hips up, cocks brushing against each other as his grip around them tightens.

You pause your movements, finger stalling on the pump of the bottle. Jihoon flattens his palm against your chest, repeating the motion again. You hiss softly, bottom lip finding purchase between your teeth to silence yourself. You know Jihoon is doing this on purpose to try and get a response out of you. While you’re not a grunt as you cum guy, you’re not necessarily vocal either. Jihoon wants to hear you, and if he has to play dirty, then he’ll do that. You, however, are having none of it.

Regaining your grasp on reality, you press the pump of the bottle, squirting lube onto your fingers. Not bothering to properly lather them, your hand moves back to Jihoon entrance. You save the build up and push both of them in, immediately getting a response from Jihoon. You push both fingers in until you can’t, twisting your wrist so your palm is now brushing his balls.

Jihoon rolls his hips again. “Angel, let me do the work. You just sit here and look pretty.” Your hand finds its way up his shirt, pushing the fabric up so that you can place a kiss to the pale skin of his chest. Your lips brush his nipple, and his back arches into your touch as he moans. Jihoon tries to push himself further down onto your fingers. You pull away from his chest, eyes narrowing in a warning. Jihoon just blinks down at you, before doing it again.

“What did I just say?” It’s a rhetorical question, one asked to try and stop him from doing that, but Jihoon answers you anyway.

“Dunno,” He huffs out, and you can see from the look in his eyes and the slight smirk on his lips that he does know what you just said. He rolls his hips again, fist tightening around both of your dicks as he tries to make you move your fingers inside of him. It feels so overwhelmingly good, that you momentarily forget your need to assert yourself as you latch your mouth around his nipple. Jihoon whines quietly, grip tightening in your shirt and around your cocks.

Jihoon removes his hand from your chest to hold his shirt up. You decide to give him what he wants for now, flicking your tongue against the sensitive pink bud on his chest. He’s so responsive to each pull and tug on his nipple, back arching as he pants softly. All you can hear are his moans, and they pull you out of whatever headspace you fell into. You pull away from his chest with a lewd, wet pop. His pec shines with your split, the skin around his nipple a light bruise from the suction. Jihoon rolls his hips again, desperate for more at the loss of contact.

Your hand falls back on his ass, spreading him apart as you slowly fuck him with your fingers. Jihoon’s cock starts to leak, slick precum dripping down his shaft, over his milky knuckles and off onto the dark fabric of your shirt. “I’ve hardly even done anything, angel.” You grip the soft flesh of his ass harshly. “Since you want to do everything by yourself, even though I told you to just sit pretty.” He huffs softly at you, rolling his eyes as he thrusts up into his hand.

Out of pure reflex, your hand cracks down on his ass. Hard. Jihoon’s breath stutters, movements immediately stopping. “Oh. Oh, shit.” He hisses softly, eyes watering softly at the contact. You can’t see it, but from the way the skin of his ass is burning, you’re pretty sure there is a noticeable handprint. Immediately, you rub the skin of his ass softly to soothe the sting.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Your voice sounds like a breath with how unsure you are with what just happened. “I shouldn't've–” Jihoon cuts you off by pulling you in for a kiss. It’s dirty; all tongue and spit and the quiet whines that slip up and out of his throat. When he pulls back, he's out of breath and red in the face.

“Fuck, do that again. Please.” Jihoon rolls his hips to prompt you into punishing him, and you give him what he wants. Jihoon’s lips part, pink and pretty as he moans out when your hand makes contact with his ass again.

“Y’know,” you bite, “if we had the time and the lube, I would fuck the attitude out of you.” Your hand cracks down on his ass again, kneading the flesh once it’s in your palm. Jihoon moans, head falling back.

“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll cum.” He chokes out through a strained laugh. You push your fingers in deeper, twisting them to elicit a sharp moan from him. “I never did take you for a dirty talker.” You laugh softly.

“You sure its not the idea of me fucking you that’s getting you going?” You ignore his attempt at banter, opting to instead rile him up a bit more. At your suggestion, Jihoon moans again. You twist your fingers again, angling them back towards you and hitting his prostate perfectly. He rolls his hips again, much to your dismay.

Another sharp crack to his ass. This time you spread him apart. “Shit, fuck, ‘m sorry.” He gasps. You stop thrusting your fingers inside of him, and instead focus on just milking his prostate. He whines, eyes rolling back in his head as he finally listens to you and stops the movement of his hips.

“It's not so hard to listen to me, is it angel?” You keep your pace on his prostate brutal. Jihoon seems to fall apart on your fingers, muscles twitching as he just takes it. “God, you’re so fucked out right now that all you can do is listen to me.” Jihoon just nods weakly, dark frames slipping down his face. You push them back up his face, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

He’s barely able to return it, lips parted as he pants and moans. Everything around Jihoon feels like white noise. His grip on your cocks tightens, and you know he's right there. You’re getting quite close too, cock twitching against Jihoon’s at the sounds he's making.

A few more prods directly to his prostate, and Jihoons cock is shooting thick, white ropes that stain the dark fabric of your t-shirt. The soft sounds he’s making are so erotic as the last of his cum leaks down his fist. You pull your fingers out of him, wiping them on your shirt before you reach up to pet his hair. The dark strands that are too short to fit in his bun frame his face.

Jihoon’s refractory period is rather short. He slides down your legs, moving his hand to his mouth to lick it clean of his own release. He pushes the glasses back up his nose before he takes you into his mouth. Tip to base as always, he holds you in his throat for a few seconds and it’s all you need before you’re cumming down it.

Jihoon sputters softly, almost like he’s about to gag. He doesn’t though; just tightens his throat around you until you’ve finished completely. When he pulls off, he’s panting softly, eyes watery as he lays down beside you to catch his breath.

You’re fairing no better, out of breath from the force of your orgasm. Jihoon seems to have that effect on you. Both of you just lay there, panting until you regain the energy to move. You move first, pulling your sleep shorts back up over your now soft cock, before throwing your cum covered shirt off. Jihoon stares at you, eyes raking over your chest and shoulders. You laugh softly when he looks away after you catch him. “What?” You jest, sitting up.

“Nothing.” Jihoon huffs, crossing his arms and rolling over, away from you. “You’re hot.” He whispers, but you still catch him in the act. You can see the tips of his ears turning red. You lean over him, pushing your hand down on his shoulder so he turns back on his back.

Jihoon attempts to cover his face with his hands. You pull his slender hands away from his face, planting a soft kiss on the tip of his nose before moving to his lips. His face is beet red from the domesticity of the action, glasses knocking into your cheek at the strange angle. “Let’s get ready. You have practice in an hour.” You whisper, moving the hair out of his face with a feather-like touch.

Immediately, Jihoon shoots up, glancing at the clock. “Oh, shit.” He all but throws himself off the bed, digging through his closet to find clothes. You throw your head back in a hearty laugh, completely enamoured with amusement at Jihoon’s sudden change in demeanour.

“You’re really tense.” Seungkwan jabs a finger into your shoulder. The practice room is buzzing with noise during the fifteen minute break everyone is taking. From the other side of the room, Jihoon watches Seungkwan intensely. Seungkwan digs the heel of his hand into your back, attempting to untie the knot in your shoulder. You sigh softly.

“My parents are coming for dinner tonight.” You roll your eyes softly, cracking your shoulder as you stretch. You catch Jihoon’s eye as you look around. He’s hardly paying any attention to his conversation with Soonyoung as he glares daggers into Seungkwan. You stifle a laugh at his obvious annoyance at someone else's hands on you.

“Oh. Oh shit.” You see Seungkwan’s eyes widen in the large mirror. You just shake your head, laughing softly at his reaction. “And you’re meeting at a restaurant or…?” You shake your head again.

“No, the apartment.” You exhale sharply when Seungkwan hits a sensitive part of your shoulder, close to your neck.

“With Jihoon?” He asks, working the spot with much more care than before. “Yeah… yeah, it’s… yeah.” Is all you can manage.

“I imagine that’ll go… swimmingly.” He huffs, slightly miffed at even imagining the situation. “Your dad’s still…?” Seungkwan trails off.

“Yeah. I’m not gonna say anything but… if he starts anything I will tell him to leave.” It’s almost uncharacteristic, the way you’re speaking about kicking your father out, when you’ve spent years tolerating his beliefs in passive compliance, far too scared of him to actually say anything about them.

You watch Jihoon leave his conversation to go sit against the wall. He’s still watching you and Seungkwan intensely, eyes narrowing as Seungkwan keeps working on your shoulder. “I know it probably doesn’t mean much coming from me, but it’s good that you’re standing your ground.” You laugh, because it does mean a lot to hear something like that out loud.

“Thank you. I don’t know if I’ll actually be able to stand up to him when it comes down to it, but the fact that I’m even thinking about it is… good.” You stifle another sound when Seungkwan focuses his attention on your other shoulder. You can’t exactly tell Seungkwan what has changed. You can’t exactly tell him you’ve been fucking around with one of his bandmates. You can tell him other things, so you do as he works out your shoulders.

“There. All better?” He asks, as he releases his grip on your shoulders. You nod, humming softly as you stand up. “Go talk to Jihoon. He’s brooding.” Seungkwan must have noticed how tense Jihoon was throughout the duration of your conversation.

“Maybe he needs a massage too.” You jest, knees cracking as you stand. Seungkwan cringes at the sound.

“Oh, he’d kill me if I even tried to.” He laughs, patting your back to send you on your way. You walk over to Jihoon, taking a seat on the floor next to him.

“What’s got you in such a mood, angel?” You whisper, voice low so no one is able to hear the pet name you use.

“Nothing. I’m not in a mood.” He hisses, leaning back against the wall. Jihoon’s bun is looser now. You’ve seen him take it down and redo it five separate times during the practice you decided to sit in on. You chuckle, patting his thigh softly.

“You’re brooding.” You state.

“I am not brooding.” Jihoon rolls his eyes at you, expression completely flat. He is brooding.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, angel.” When he doesn’t say anything, you laugh a little louder. “Oh my god, you are. Over Kwan? Really?” Jihoon pinches your arm to get you to shut up.

“Stop, seriously. Why would I be jealous?” He snaps.

“Take it easy. I’m just teasing you.” You brush his thigh with your thumb. “But if you want to take things so seriously, maybe I will have to fuck the attitude out of you afterall.” Jihoon’s demeanour immediately changes. His face starts to burn and his eyes go wide.

“Y/N, stop. What if someone hears you talk like that?” He whispers, despite the fact that everyone else is busy on the other side of the practice room, and far too loud to even hear you if you were talking at a normal volume. All you want to do is lean over and kiss him to distract him from his paranoia. You don’t. Instead, you smile softly at him, giving his thigh a soft squeeze. You know if you keep talking to him like that, he’ll potentially pop a boner in the middle of practice, and he’d never forgive you for that, even if it’s hypothetical.

“Get back to practice, angel. I’ll see you at home.” You stand as you notice everyone else slowly getting back into their places to resume practice. Jihoon follows you, stretching as he stands.

After panic cleaning the entire apartment in an hour, and being sure to hide any and all evidence of your sexual relationship with Jihoon, you finally take a moment to breathe as the text from your mom comes in. Your parents are stopping to get gas, and then they’ll be at your apartment.

You have roughly ten minutes before the storm rolls in, and in all honesty, you’re not entirely sure if you’ve had enough time to prepare. Jihoon started grilling the chicken you seasoned last night in preparation for your parents arrival, insisting that you take a minute and get your shit together.

You don’t know why you’re so nervous. There are many reasons. For starters, your father isn’t the most open minded person out there and your roommate and best friend is a gay man. You have no plans of mentioning that. You and Jihoon talked about it on the ride home, and have briefly discussed your relationship with your father before. It’s a mutual agreement that Jihoon’s love life is off the table for discussion tonight.

You also haven’t really seen your parents long enough to share a meal in the last year; at least not since you were with your ex-girlfriend. That was nearly a year ago at this point. Last time you saw your parents, you were straight. And, well, now you’re not. At least not completely.

Jihoon emerges from the kitchen, immediately walking over to you when he notices you pacing across the living room. He grips your forearms tightly, stopping you in your tracks.

You look down at him, anxiety easing up a bit once you’re in his presence. “Stop pacing, you’re gonna wear a hole through the floor.” He laughs hesitantly, unsure if his joke will land. You laugh quietly alongside him, leaning down to kiss him softly.

“Sorry, I’m just nervous.” He gets on his toes to kiss you once more. Jihoon smiles at you with so much tenderness it makes your chest tighten softly.

“I know,” he breathes, hand finding its way up to the back of your neck to play with the hair. “But you’ll be okay.” He gives you another soft kiss.

You wrap your arms around his waist, holding him for a few moments before the buzzer to your building sounds throughout the apartment. You fix the loose strands that frame Jihoon’s face, smoothing down the bumps in his worn bun before you pull away to unlock the door for your parents. The obvious nerves on your face manifest themselves as your hand shakes when you go to open the door.

Jihoon busies himself in the kitchen, carefully watching the chicken and rice. The vegetables are done, placed on the back burner with the lid on to keep them warm. Jihoon can hear your mom’s bright voice as she pulls you into a tight hug. “Oh, you’ve gotten so muscular!” She chimes, and your bright laughter sounds the entire apartment.

Jihoon’s heart tightens at the sound. He hasn’t heard you laugh like that in a while, warm and lovely. He pushes the feeling down as he flips the spatula in his hand, eyes suddenly blurry as he takes a deep breath to ground himself. Now is not the time for this. Get a grip; be in love with him later.

The gruffness of your fathers voice pulls Jihoon back into the kitchen. He stirs aimlessly as he hears footsteps getting closer. You and your mom are already deep in conversation. You’re explaining the concept of your next album to her animatedly, hands flailing in a makeshift diagram. Jihoon catches your eye, and you smile softly before telling your parents to take a seat.

You step into the kitchen to get your parents drinks, coffee already brewed and hot. Jihoon doesn’t acknowledge you, purely focused on flipping chicken. You resist the urge to snake your arm around his waist, something you always do now when cooking. He shuts off the burner for the chicken, placing the lid on the pan to keep the heat in. As you pour your dad a cup of black coffee, you hum softly to get Jihoon’s attention.

He finally looks at you, expression completely blank. “You okay?” You whisper. Your parents are talking quietly in the dining room, and your fathers voice suddenly makes the air unsettling.

Jihoon hums softly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good, I just feel a little weird.” You nod, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze. You pour your mom a cup of cool water, juggling the cups in each hand. Jihoon laughs softly.

“Come say hi?” You ask in an attempt to pull him out of the kitchen and his thoughts. “You don’t have to, but my mom wants to meet you.” Jihoon swallows hard, before he follows you out of the kitchen. Your mom smiles brightly at the sight of Jihoon’s unfamiliar face.

“You must be the roommate.” Your mom greets, hand held out to shake his hand. Her hospitality in his own home catches Jihoon off guard. He takes a second to get his bearings before he shakes her hand, a soft smile on his lips. He pushes his glasses back up his face as he takes a seat.

Your father doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t make any attempt to introduce himself, but that’s probably for the better. Your mom pulls Jihoon into a conversation quickly. You watch them talk, eyeing your father every so often. His gaze is focused entirely on Jihoon, almost like he’s trying to dissect him piece by piece. You know that look. It makes your skin crawl.

Jihoon excuses himself to use the bathroom, and once he’s gone your father takes the opportunity to speak his mind, much to your dismay. “That Jihoon is quite… feminine, especially with his hair like that.” You roll your eyes internally at your fathers words. “Your hair is quite long too.” Your undercut has grown out a few inches, now making your hair much more flowy than it used to be with the new length. It’s not even that long, but any display of anything that isn’t cold cut masculinity seems to irk your father. “Quit it.” Your mom hisses quietly, though it seems to fall on deaf ears.

“You’re not associating yourself with queers are you? You’re not becoming one yourself, are you son?” He asks, and it seems to snap something inside of you; knowing he’d never be able to interact with Jihoon normally if you were upfront about everything.

“No! Jesus Christ, would you cut it out?” You snap, as you hear the bathroom door open. Jihoon appears in your line of sight as he walks down the hallway back to the table. Jihoon can see the tension in your face. Your father would have no problem ripping you a new asshole for snapping at him like that in front of other people when you were younger, but he doesn’t say anything. He just glares at you, and Jihoon once he takes a hesitant seat back at the table.

Your mom dissolves the tension by talking to Jihoon again, though you can still feel the edges of your frustration bubbling as your father just watches. The rice cooker beeps, and you and Jihoon both stand at the same time to go bring out plates and the food. “Will you be joining us for dinner, Jihoon?” Your mom asks, slightly hopeful, and you can already tell she’s taken a liking to him. Jihoon hesitates for a few seconds, eyes meeting yours.

“Uh, no, sorry. I have a late schedule tonight, otherwise I would.” Jihoon laughs softly, both of you know it's at the half-assed lie falling past his lips, but neither of your parents know any better. Still, your heart sinks softly in your chest. You gave Jihoon the option for an out tonight, and he’s taking it.

“Let me grab your headphones that I borrowed.” You say softly, motioning with your head for Jihoon to follow you into your bedroom. Both of you leave your parents at the table to have a few moments alone amidst the disaster that is, and always has been, a family dinner.

Jihoon sits on your bed, unfamiliar with the way your bed frame creaks. “I heard him.” He whispers, and you feel a small part of yourself die.

Jihoon had told you, years ago, that he hated when people made him feel small. Not only physically, but emotionally. He hated the way it made him feel so helpless. In this situation, Jihoon is completely helpless. Whether your mom unearths something through conversation that he’d rather not have out on the table, or if your father starts grilling him about his rather feminine features and flamboyant mannerisms, Jihoon is destined to feel small in this situation. So he’s doing what’s best for the time being; he’s leaving, taking himself out of the equation so no more damage can get done. Your father’s already suspicious of something, and Jihoon would rather not let you take the blunt end of its force by him being around to spark up that suspicion.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” You choke out. Jihoon stands up to grab your hand carefully.

“No, I’m sorry that I can’t stick it out and support you. I just, I can’t force myself to be in a situation like this right now.” He kisses your neck softly. It does very little to calm your anxiety which is running rampant at the moment. Your eyes start to glaze over and Jihoon shakes his head, eyebrows furrowing. He gets on his toes to kiss you properly, lets it linger until the tension in your face eases. “Just breathe, you’ll be okay. Don’t worry about me. I’m just going to the gym since we didn’t have time this morning.” He brushes your grown-out bangs to the side.

Jihoon’s gaze is so incredibly tender, so careful, that it does calm you down. “Okay,” you breathe out, hand coming up to hold the side of his neck.

“I know we agreed to stop saying it because of our situation, but please remember that I love you. You’re more resilient than you think, Y/N.” Jihoon’s hand finds its spot on top of yours as he leans into your touch. You laugh quietly at his attempt to encourage you; still, it works.

“I know,” You whisper. “Love you too.”

Jihoon pats your chest softly with an open fist. “Give me back my headphones.” He whispers, and you laugh softly, pulling away from him to go retrieve the headphones you borrowed. You did borrow his headphones, so it’s not like you’re completely lying to your parents. You grab them off of your desk, placing them around his neck before you lean down for one last kiss. Jihoon squeezes your shoulder in reassurance before he heads off to his room to grab his gym bag.

You leave your room to go back and brave your parents while you set the table and bring the food out. Jihoon says goodbye to your mom on the way out, and then he’s gone, lock clicking softly behind him.

There’s not much conversation as you eat, other than your parents praising the food and telling you how excited they are to see your aunt in Busan. The entire time, your father is eyeing you carefully. You ignore it, until he asks to use the bathroom on the way out. “First door on the right.” You guide.

Once he’s gone, your mom decides to speak. Her voice is shaky, a clear indication of her hesitancy around the question she’s about to ask. “You and Jihoon, you’re not dating are you?” It catches you off guard, makes you lose balance even though you were standing perfectly still seconds before. If you had a drink, it would’ve been spat out, all over your poor mother.

“What?! No!” You gasp, in hushed shock. Your mom just shakes her head softly.

“You’ve never looked at anyone like that before. You’ve never brought anyone home, and you live with him. It’s not unreasonable for a mom to want her son to be happy, is it?” You sputter for a few seconds before she keeps going. “I know we haven’t had time to have that conversation yet, but I can see he makes you happy. Whatever’s going on between the two of you, if it makes you happy then it’s worth something.” She squeezes your shoulder softly.

Before you have time to reply, the bathroom door opens and your father approaches the porch to slip his shoes on.

“Drive safe.” You offer in an attempt to break the unusual amount of silence.

“We will. Call sometime, yeah? You know I worry.” Your mom ruffles your hair softly, a habit she never dropped from your childhood. You grimace, and she smiles.

“I will, I will. It’ll be dark when you get there.” You open the door for them, ushering them outside into the hallway.

“I love you.” Your mom hums, fumbling with the keys in her hand.

“I love you too. Text me when you get there.” Your mom hums again, waving as they begin to walk to the elevator. You don’t watch them until they're gone. Instead, you close the door, stepping back inside, and take a deep breath.

You start the tedious task of cleaning up, packing leftovers for Jihoon into glass containers and putting away ingredients that were forgotten in the chaos. You notice barely a cup of rice left in the container, and decide to distract yourself with a trip to the shop; not before you call Jihoon to tell him you might not be home when he gets back. He keeps the call short, knowing he has a set of five to finish and that you use shopping as a way to decompress.

You also pick up another bottle of lube, mask pulled tightly over your face, cap pulled down as you use the self checkout, shoving the bottle in the pocket of your hoodie. When you return home, the kitchen light is on again, which means Jihoon is home. You told him about the leftovers on the phone, and when you put away the rice, you checked the fridge to see the containers weren't there. The sink is empty, which means he already washed them.

Sometimes you think Jihoon is a godsend, and this is one of those moments.

The shower seems to be running in his suite, and you take the opportunity to change into plaid pyjama pants, forgoing a shirt altogether. With nothing else to do, and simply wanting Jihoon’s company, you wait for him on his bed, the new bottle of lube replacing the old ones spot on top of the bedside table.

The shower stops, and you hear the whirl of the blow dryer for a few minutes. That stops too. The various clinking noises from the bathroom stop, and the door opens. Jihoon pads into his bedroom, a silky black robe covering his naked torso. He jumps at the sight of you on his bed, shirt somewhere else as you sit against the headboard. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” He laughs softly, walking towards you. “I didn’t know you were home.” You spread your legs, patting your thigh for him to join you.

Jihoon does as you silently request, thick thighs straddling your waist as he takes a seat on top of you. His hair is still a little damp as it brushes your neck when he leans in for a kiss. You return it slowly, taking your time to lap at his mouth. Jihoon moans quietly, fingers brushing over your chest and shoulders as you kiss him stupid.

Your hands find his ass naturally, gripping and kneading the flesh softly over the silk of his robe. You push the fabric up, over his ass to have direct access to the hem of his boxers. Jihoon moans again when you deliver a soft slap to the area over his briefs. Your hand makes contact with the material, and instead of going back in for another one, you grip the flesh of his ass harshly, pulling him apart.

You move two fingers towards his hole to tease him, and that’s when you feel it.

Something foreign and geometric greets your fingers. It’s warm from his body heat, but still colder than the rest of his skin. Both of you still, and Jihoon turns his face away from you to hide his embarrassment. “What’s this, angel?” You ask, pushing your fingers directly against the object. Jihoon squeaks softly, body jolting before he lets out a low moan.

He doesn’t say anything, just rocks his hips back against yours, and you can tell from the movement of his face against your neck that his bottom lip is in between his teeth to keep himself quiet. You do it again, whilst your other hand comes up to the silk belt of his robe. In one quick motion, you pull the knot undone, and his whole bare chest meets yours.

Jihoon pulls away from you in slight shock at the fluidity of your movements, the ability you have to undo knots one handed. As if you haven’t been unhooking bras for years. You chuckle softly as your hands find the band of his briefs, and you pull those down over his ass with just as much fluidity.

Jihoon’s cock slaps his stomach, and it’s only now that you notice he’s hard, already leaking, and you suspect it might be because of the plug inside of him. You take a moment to take in his state of undress; milky, soft skin and muscles which are still pumped from his workout, and his pretty pink cock which is leaking beads of precum down his shaft. You’ve seen him shirtless before, watched his cock as he brushed it against yours, but you’ve never seen both things together.

Even though his boxers are still halfway down his thighs and his dark robe covers his arms, this is the most naked you’ve ever seen him. Jihoon’s face flushes under the intensity of your gaze, analytical and solid as you just stare. He goes to pull his robe closed, but you stop him with a firm hand to his stomach, thumb brushing over the ridges of his abs. He stills, lets your hands feel him as you brush the robe off his shoulders. He lets it fall, the fabric pooling at his elbows before he shrugs it off. Jihoon’s black robe falls onto the white sheets, such a stark contrast, and it all seems to click into place. This, tonight, is the night it happens.

Both of you seem to have the same idea as you both lean in for a kiss. Your lips meet, and it's immediately hungry; all tongue and teeth, uncoordinated and messy. Your arms wrap around his waist, holding him to you, before you roll him over. Jihoon hits the mattress with a small oof, eyes stary and wide at the sudden display of strength.

You take the opportunity to pull his boxers the rest of the way off, reaching up to grab an unused pillow to put under his ass. You wrap an arm around both of his legs, lifting his hips off the mattress to put the pillow under his ass. Jihoon just stares at you, completely star struck and incredibly horny. You push his knees up to his chest, finally getting a look at the plug inside of him.

It’s a simple metal plug with a large, sapphire blue, heart shaped gem at the base. Your fingers brush over it, and Jihoon stutters out a few incoherent syllables before he can form words. “I, um, sometimes I just like to… Fuck, are we really gonna do this?” He gasps, as you grab a hold of the toy, pulling it ever so slightly out before pushing it back in.

“If you want to, but I’m so game to fuck you tonight.” You breathe out. Jihoon laughs, though it’s strained.

“You have such a way with words. No wonder your albums always top the charts.” He jokes, and you take the opportunity to massage his balls to get him to stop talking so that you can focus on preparing him, though it seems he’s done most of the work himself.

“I’m about to top you, too.” You laugh quietly as he moans out. “Bought us a new bottle of lube while I was getting rice.” You kiss his pec as you play with the plug, slowly fucking him with it without taking it out.

You settle back on your knees, watching the way his hole spasms with each twist of the plug. He’s whiny and desperate, already getting close to being fucked out. You let go of his balls and the plug to reach and grab the lube, taking the opportunity to rid yourself of your pyjama pants and boxers. It’s Jihoon’s turn to stare.

“Fuck, you’re so…” He trails off. You just smirk before turning your attention back to his ass. You finally give yourself permission to pull the plug all the way out of him, before plunging it back in. There, you get to see the full size of it.

It’s not the biggest thing in the world, but it’s not small either. It would fill Jihoon’s palm with a significant weight to it. When it slips out, gravity pulls it towards the bed and you have to stiffen your wrist to push it back in. Jihoon moans, hands grasping at the sheets. “Yeah? Care to explain all of this to me angel?” Jihoon flushes deeper, his blush now spreading to his chest.

“Sometimes I just like to feel full. You weren’t supposed to know.” He hiccups as you keep fucking him with the toy. Jihoon spreads his legs, bringing them down from his chest to stop the slight aching in his knees. You catch a glance at his leaking cock, and pick up your pace only to slow down again. It’s brutal; all your teasing has Jihoon close to tears.

“You can take it, angel.” You coo, brushing his hair out of his face and planting a soft kiss on his lips. He can barely return it.

“If you keep doing this I’ll cum, and I don’t want to yet.” He whines, knuckles turning red as his fingers twist into the sheets. As much as you would love to keep working him up like this, the girth of the plug has prepared him enough. You pull it out, leaning over to set it on the bedside table. Your cock brushes against his thigh, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan, completely unaware of how hard you were up until this point.

You’ve always been far more of a giver in bed, willing to neglect your own needs to make your partners feel good, and it’s no different with Jihoon. What is different is how hard he gets you, how his moans and whines seem to have an effect on you far stronger than anything else.

“Shit, do you have any condoms?” You ask, once you settle back on your knees.

“Don’t need them. I’m clean, and can’t get pregnant.” He laughs softly.

“Yeah, no, it’s just… I’ve fucked anyone raw before.” You’ve heard from friends that sex without a barrier is mind blowing, and you’re not sure if you can really take that with how worked up Jihoon’s noises make you.

“First time for everything, right? We don’t have to if you would prefer to wait and just buy condoms.” Jihoon reaches for you, grabbing your bicep and rubbing soft circles on it with his thumb. You shake your head, leaning forward to kiss him as you flip the cap off the bottle of lube.

“I’ve had a lot of firsts with you.” You laugh softly before connecting your lips. Jihoon sighs into the kiss, hand finding its way into your hair and your tongues lap at each other.

You use this opportunity to press on the pump of the bottle, squirting some into your hand to lather your cock. Ever since Jihoon introduced you to this specific type of lube, you’ve never looked back. Thank god for pumps. You bite back a groan as your hand meets your cock, lubing it up well.

You opt to plunge three fingers inside of Jihoon to use up the excess lube on your fingers. Jihoon gasps, clearly not expecting the intrusion so soon. He’s loose enough for your fingers to slide in, but still tight around them. You know he’s going to kill you.

With lips still locked together, you pull your fingers out after scissoring them a few times. You carefully guide your cock to his entrance, rubbing your tip against his entrance a few times before you break the kiss. “Ready?” You ask, and it’s more for yourself than him.

“Yeah, just go slow.” He breathes, arms now above his head. You do as he says, slowly prodding his entrance with your tip. You do it a few times, pushing a little further until you finally feel him open up and relax enough for you to push your tip inside.

Jihoon grabs at the pillows above him, eyelids fluttering shut as he takes deep breaths. You finally get your tip inside, and stall for a few seconds at the warmth of his walls. He’s still so fucking tight, it makes your head spin at the completely new sensation. Once you’re good to go, you push in further.

Where you’d normally bottom out, Jihoon seems to suck you in further until there’s barely an inch left to go. Jihoon gasps and whines with each inch you push inside him, shifting and squirming in place as he adjusts to the stretch and length. His knuckles are white, stands of his dark hair finding their way inside his grasp. While he can’t seem to form words, he sure is vocal.

You push the last inch of your cock inside, taking a deep breath as you let both of you adjust. Everyone was right; having sex without protection is a different breed of pleasure. You close your eyes as you focus on your breathing. “Okay,” Jihoon pants, “you can move now.” His voice is shaky, muscles tightening around your cock dangerously.

“Oh, this isn’t for you, angel.” You pant, a strained laugh slipping past your lips. When you open your eyes again, Jihoon is looking up at you, pink lips parted, eyes glazed over with lust, cock leaking against his stomach.

Jihoon swears quietly as he takes in your face. You wrap your hand around his cock to give him something for the time being, and that’s when you feel it. It’s barely there, at the bottom of his stomach, hidden under the ridges of his abs, but it’s there.

Your knuckles brush it first, and you take a moment to look down to see if it’s visible. Ever so faintly, his stomach bulges with the intrusion of your cock. You swear, pulling out a few inches before you push back in. Sure enough, the bulge returns when you push back in. “Fuck, is that your–” Jihoon cuts himself off when you push down on his lower stomach, and you can feel the pressure on your cock. You laugh, aghast at the discovery. You’ve never been able to fit all of your cock inside someone, never been able to see it do that.

“It is.” You exhale deeply, as you start to slowly pull back out.

“God, you’re so fucking deep.” Jihoon hisses, eyes rolling back as you thrust back in. You brush his hair out of his face affectionately, cooing softly as you start to fuck him.

Your chosen pace is slow, nearly brutal. You take a second to adjust your position on your knees, and the slight angle change has Jihoon’s back arching as your cock brushes his prostate. He lets out a high-pitched whine, eyes closing when you hold him in place by the hips to continue hitting that spot. It’s foul play, focusing in on his prostate, but you’re not faring much better at how tight and wet he is.

You pick up speed, balls slapping against his ass with each thrust. Low moans from you and high pitched whines from Jihoon fill the room alongside your laboured breathing. One of his arms falls to cover his face. You catch it before he can hide from you, tsk-ing softly as you keep fucking him. Knowing he won’t win this fight, Jihoon wraps that hand around his cock, jerking himself off in time with each thrust.

Jihoon’s other arm wraps around your neck, pulling you closer and in for a kiss. He’s hardly able to kiss you, completely fucked out as he just pants against your mouth. It’s too much. His eyelashes are wet with tears, completely overstimulated from two types of stimulation. His nails rake down your back, the soft burn only spurring you on more. Jihoon’s hand stops moving on his cock, and you take the opportunity to put your own hand in its place.

Something about being in complete control of Jihoon’s pleasure, stimulating him from both perspectives, making him fall apart underneath you; something about it has you picking up speed, head falling into his neck as you start to lick and bite at the pale skin, careful not to leave any marks.

Jihoon gasps out your name, small tears falling down the sides of his face, before he’s shooting thick white ropes of cum out of his cock. His release coats your hand, hitting his chest and your stomach. He spasms, full body jerking as you fuck him through it, hand still stroking him in time with each thrust. It doesn’t take long for you to get where you need to be. “Where do you want it?” You ask, out of breath, voice low and shaky from holding yourself up.

“Inside.” Jihoon whimpers, nails digging into your back from the prolonged overstimulation. You do as he says, stilling as you cum. Jihoon moans, pulling your hand off his cock. You pull out carefully, pulling away from him to watch your cock slide out. Some of your cum slips out of his ass and you watch it slide down onto the pillow.

You collapse on the bed beside him, rolling onto your side to face him. Jihoon’s chest is still rising and falling rapidly as he comes down from his high. You’re doing no better, breathing laboured and sporadic as you fall out of your lust.

The post nut clarity is strong. One minute you're watching Jihoon, brushing his bangs out of his face, gaze on him soft. The next, your whole body feels on fire as an unfamiliar burn in your lungs ignites your whole body on fire. You can’t breathe, and then the tears start.

Jihoon is immediately pulled out of whatever post-orgasm bliss he’s experiencing as your whole body shakes, completely wracked in a violent sob. He rolls over off his back quickly, pulling you to his chest as you cry. There’s no logical reason for your panic, you know this, but then you start thinking and oh god, you can't stop.

Maybe the timing was off; maybe you’d be fine if your parents didn't show up today, if your father did not scrutinize Jihoon right off the bat. Still, you just had sex with another man, and for some reason it freaks you out more than it should. Jihoon just holds you, unsure of what else to do. He lets you cry, because it’s all he can do, and you don’t pull away because you can’t.

It takes you about five minutes for your breathing to go back to normal. When you finally have a grasp on your surroundings, wherever you are doesn’t feel at all like home. The earth feels far, far away. All you can recognize is the dim glow of the lamp and Jihoon’s chest. You blink a few times, completely exhausted.

Jihoon starts whispering a soft mantra of: It’s okay, there’s nothing wrong with you, you’re safe, I’ve got you. It seems to work in grounding you once you’re able to recognize sound again. While it might not be entirely true that things are okay right now, something in Jihoon’s voice tells you that it will be okay. Maybe in the morning, maybe in a week, maybe sometime in the future; eventually.

You’ve already been ripped out by the stem, left on the dirt for people to step on. The damage has been done, and there is no going back. The difference between just being left to rot is that you have Jihoon. He’s willing to replant you, care for your damaged roots; he’s willing to care for you, mend your wounds until you’re whole again. All you can do is move forward.

Your eyes feel heavy with dried tears, head pounding from the incessant crying you just spent the last ten or so minutes doing. You groan softly, giving Jihoon the first sign in ten minutes that you’re alive, aside from your laboured breathing. Immediately, his hand is in your hair, pulling you tighter to his chest as he presses a hesitant kiss to the top of your head.

You smile weakly against his chest, hand reaching out for him. Jihoon laces your fingers together, squeezing softly in reassurance.

He rubs soft circles on your back, holding you close until your breathing starts to even out. Jihoon doesn’t have the heart to pull away from you, not when you’re like this. The drying lube and cum will leave his sensitive skin irritated and red in the morning, but that’s a problem for later. Right now, you need him here, and there isn’t anything Jihoon wouldn’t do to make you feel safe.

a/n: shits going down. sorry guys but not rlly.

63 notes · View notes

meaningofaeons · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! Have you played the latest part of the xianzhou quest? If not ignore this ask lmao.

If yes, holy shi the potential for hurt comfort in the scenes of the final battle against phentylia??

I wanted to ask if you could write a hurt/comfort fic jing yuan x reader, where reader is in the battle and sees all the shit go down and is quite shaken.

Thanks!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ at the end of immortality

⊹ character(s) - jing yuan ⊹ word count - 829 ⊹ notes - SPOILERS FOR 1.2 TRAILBLAZE MISSION !!!, gn!reader, hurt/comfort, reader is like jing yuan's right-hand in battle and in the seat of divine foresight/implied to be a guard of some sort to him, reader and jing yuan are not together but they're both pining hard, a bit angsty but still comfort, not edited sorry

hi anon omg. this ask got me giggling kicking my feet like YES... thank you for requesting!! (＾º◡º＾❁) (also im so sorry I made this a little more angsty than I expected to wtf!!!!)

You were mad. Furious, even.

Jing Yuan could tell without even beholding your expression that you were positively seething with rage.

Towards him.

He dare not say a word about your current state to your face, though. Not when you silently draped new bandages over his wounds, and not when your hands lingered just a bit longer than they should've.

Not when he could feel the near-imperceptible tremble of your fingertips as you carefully nursed him back to health, treating him like a precious ornament that may break at the slightest touch.

"...How bad is it?"

The General's hoarse voice cut the silence like Dan Heng's spear had cut right through his torso.

Your mind flashed back to the scene, forcing you to squeeze your eyes shut.

"General!"

Jing Yuan fell through the air as Phantylia's grip faltered at last. He wasn't a Void Ranger, but...

Seeing the spear of the Vidyadhara High Elder pierce him had just about sent the same level of fear shooting through you. As though the weapon had pierced your chest, instead.

"Y/N, wait!"

"Imbibitor Lunae, what did you—?!"

Your fury came off in waves, your distress even more palpable. The aforementioned Vidyadhara—no, Dan Heng—approached you with the General in his arms, handing him off with little resistance as you helped the man to a stand.

He was still alive. You could've wept. He was still alive.

But he wasn't okay.

"I told you to stay back," you whispered, forcing your hands to still as you finished patching up his wound. They brushed over the space where Dan Heng's spear hit, and you winced at Jing Yuan's flinch.

At his slight chuckle, you worried he might come up with some witty quip that would undoubtedly enrage you into pounding your fist against his wounded back.

Instead, he only turned to gaze at you, golden eyes smoldering.

"You know I couldn't do that."

As angry as you were, you did know.

But still...

What use is a guard if their charge is always the one at the front lines?

As the General of the Xianzhou Luofu... what could you even do for such a brilliant man?

"If it had been you up there, I may have died in my worry. I'm not getting any younger, my dear."

"And neither am I. Do you have no care for the pain you put my heart through?"

Your words were far from proper, your actions even less so as you rested your weary head on the General's shoulder. He seemed to lack any concern for his own propriety, his hand reaching up to grasp your own, his rough thumb brushing your fingertips with a delicate tenderness you didn't want to think too much into.

"...I'm sorry."

Jing Yuan's relenting words were bittersweet to your wanting ears, roughened by his strain. You clutched his hand just a bit tighter.

"Is that an apology for your actions, or an apology for the fact that you'll continue to be reckless until the day you die?"

He chuckled more. The sound sent a warm, tingling feeling through your chest, a feeling that you desperately clutched to in your distress.

"Would you hit me if I said both?"

"I'll be merciful enough to save it for when you're in better shape."

The rumbling laughter continued, and you silently scolded the man for the chance of exacerbating his wounds. He only deflected the blame unto you for your quip, and you sighed out.

Ease. Your anger dissipated, fading into a comfortable silence that the General did not dare break again.

He also did not dare, however, to turn and face you. You were grateful for that.

Because in spite of your assuaged rage, your abated worries, you still fear many things.

You fear seeing new scars on Jing Yuan that you did not have to see before. You fear seeing the exhaustion grow in his youthful features, yet aged all the same. You fear the possibility that he is only a phantasm, that the mara has stricken your mind at last and all you have left of him is a pathetic delusion created by your own longing.

More than any of that, somehow, you fear that if he were to turn around in this very moment, you would cross that one line you had sworn never to touch.

The line that, when crossed, would allow you to abandon all restraint. The line that, when crossed, would mean you grasp your General in the way you've longed to, kissing him slowly to make sure he's really still here with you. To make him promise he would be here with you, forever, until the end of your immortality.

Judging from the way Jing Yuan placed his rough lips upon the back of your hand, you knew he was thinking the same.

Not yet. Not now, not even now.

But perhaps one day, it wouldn't be such a daunting wall to scale.

#jing yuan x reader #jingyuan x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #honkai x reader #honkai #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan #jingyuan

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 1 year ago

Text

𝐉𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

All my fics for Jude ♥︎ some mature content (if over the age of 18 and you cannot see them go to settings, content you see and turn off mature block ♥︎ tag on Jude scenarios here

🩷 = mature

Last updated July 26th

A win anyways ♥︎ hi can u write jude x reader comforting him after losing the match?

A blurb with no name ♥︎ Can you do a little blurb with a jealous Jude? Maybe you’re a few years older than him and thinks you’d get along better with Trent?

Anything for you ♥︎ Request: one where jude takes care of you when you feel off/bad and the feeling comes out of Nowhere. Like you start to reminisce abt your childhood and it ruins your mood

The L word ♥︎ hiii could you please write a jude imagine where the reader and jude have a lazy day at home and it’s cute and fluffy and he confesses he loves reader for the first time? thank you 😊

Stay ♥︎ hi my love, would you mind doing an angsty jude bellingham smut where they have agreed to break up as he needs to focus on his career but they decide to spend one more night together and have very intimate but also sad sex before they have to leave eachother (and if you don’t mind have them kinda talk it out and decide not to split in the end if you want) thank you 🫶🏻 🩷

Biggest supporter ♥︎ can u write a Jude Bellingham fluff abt just going to his practices and games and being his biggest supporter

Kissing booth ♥︎ Based on a TikTok I saw. Where you tell Jude you love him while taking photos in a photo booth.

Makeup or breakup ♥︎ Jude says some disgusting things during an argument which results in you leaving for some space. Maybe you'll makeup... 🩷

The way he loves you ♥︎ Headcanon on the way Jude shows you he loves you

What about us ♥︎ Jude lied to you and said he was going to stay with you instead of transferring. You felt betrayed

Lust and envy ♥︎ Summary: IM BEGGING jude smut/angst where him and reader are broken up but he finds an old (rough?) sextape and he touches himself to it (we want details tho intense solo sessions are HOT😩) then yeah he regrets leaving her and wants her backkk, and then maybe shes with another guy and he gets all jealous and possessive (sorry to much details) I want toxic jude soooo bad 🤭 🩷

Soulmates ♥︎ sitting in the car in the rain, you and Jude havs a heart to heart

Initials ♥︎ I just know bf Jude would buy you a necklace or a bracelet with his initial on it 😍

The other woman ♥︎ Jude can’t get enough of you, but he is with another woman that's not you 🩷

My life ♥︎ Jude angst where he tries to break up with the reader because he thinks that his life is too much for her but she’s not having it. Just like ‘yea but no’

Mykonos ♥︎ You and Jude enjoy your time on the beach together but that was cut short when you both decided the hotel room was a better option 🩷

Birthday surprise ♥︎ you surprise Jude on his birthday after being away from him for a while. You give me him a little something as well 🩷

There's this girl ♥︎ Jude and the reader talking late at night because they barely got to talk during the day. They talk about the random things, laughing at each other shitty jokes And stuff. Neither wants to hang up because they love to hear each other’s voice )

Love languages ♥︎ all five Love language with Jude 🩷

Hidden feelings ♥︎ Can we got some enemies to lovers with Jude maybe him and the reader “hate” each other but are in the same friend group and one day reader gets hurt and he rushes to come and help her 😩😩 anything will don’t tbh

Soul intertwine ♥︎ English is not my first language so sorry for the mistakes… I was thinking about something fuffly + smut. Like the reader being innocent and a shy person. She and jude got into their relationship recently and they have had no sex yet bc jude don’t wants to pressure her to do anything (but ofc he wants have sex w her), especially when he starts to realize how innocent she is… he thinks she’s too cute and at the same time he wants to ruin her, he feel the need to protect her. But when y/n is in a convo w her girlies friends and one of them asks about her sex life w jude and she don’t know what to say, she would be curious about it but would be too shy to talk w jude about it he would find it weird that she was quiet and looking bothered by something and would talk w her. After insists a lot, she finally says about all the stuffs that she heard about her friends and she would be “idk how react” and jude gets fully turned on by her innocent but makes he’s best to not show ithe tries to find a way to explain for her without destroy her innocent but she wants to know about everything and she wants him to do everything w her bc she wants to be his. 🩷

๑‧˚₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹๑‧˚₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹๑

Main Masterlist

#Jude Bellingham x reader #Jude Bellingham #jude bellingham x you #Jude Bellingham fluff #Jude Bellingham fanfiction #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham x fem!reader

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cowboydisaster · 1 year ago

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reader dying in Simon's arms... med evac being too late... Simon in denial?

i like to cause pain 🫡

nonny... you are a little torturer, but I'm here for it. I actually wrote this a bit ago, but tweaked it b/c it was very similar to this prompt. Anyhow, enjoy you little angst-lover!

Fine Line

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader word count: 1.7k a/n: reader goes by callsign: Red. Also, this is like-- super angsty. I'm SORRY. I'll make it up to you later I promise. xx warnings: death, reader death, blood, gore? i think thats the word im looking for, denial, trauma, hurt/no comfort. masterlist

It doesn’t look good.

You hold your palm over your torso, pulling it away to look down at the ruby colored liquid that is coating your hands. It’s sort of beautiful, you think, oddly. Like rose petal after rose petal spilling out from your wounds, coating your being in its own life sustaining substance. It hurts, an unrelenting burn radiating throughout your body, causing you to tremor uncontrollably. You’ve seen death plenty. You’ve been the hand of it, and now you’re the victim. Funny how things come full circle like that.

Bodies lie around the room you occupy, already having suffered the same fate that you’re about to. You’d succeeded in clearing the room. Ah, but the closet. You’d missed it. A simple mistake, and it would cost you your life. You managed to take out the enemy, but not before he pressed his damning shotgun against your stomach, not before he’d pulled the trigger.

Your breathing is shallow, the puffs of air are visible in the cool air, and they shrink smaller as an overwhelming cold begins to creep around your lungs. Ice wraps around your frame like an old friend, like a lover.

“Red, how copy?”

You glance down at your radio, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips at the familiar voice. Simon. Oh, how you love him.

“Fuck, sergeant. How copy? I heard shots.” Simon says again, this time harsher. You’ll miss his voice, his touch, his eyes. You hope that in some way, after you’re gone, he’ll be with you.

His voice soothes you, your heart skipping a beat even as it slowly gives up, unable to carry the burden of keeping you alive for much longer. Blood trickles down your body like vines, wrapping around your arms and holding you heavy to the ground. You hope they’ll plant roses on your grave.

Slippery fingers press down on the comms button, trembling and soaked with crimson.

“I’m here, Ghost… I’m here.” You say into your comms. Your voice is barely a whisper, nothing more than a wisp. You used to be so bubbly, the loudest in the room. Your voice is foreign in your ears as the soft, comforting hands of death steal your air away from you, unwilling to compromise. Not this time.

“I'm coming, Red. Fuck, I’m on my way, love. I’ll be right there. Just hang on.” Simon pleads. You can hear his heavy breathing through the comms, swallowed by the panic in his voice. He sounds scared, terrified. It contrasts how you feel. Death has never been peaceful. Not when you watched teammates die on the field, not even when you killed. But this, being on the fine line of life and death? It’s peaceful. Death is quiet, it’s numb. Living. That’s the hard part. Fighting. Surviving.

Your eyes flicker to the door as Simon kicks it clean in. Your love enters the room quickly. You hate seeing him so worried, you’d take it away if you could. You’d carry the burden to ease the weight on his shoulders.

“Red!” Simon yells, running towards you and sliding to his knees on the ground beside you. His eyes scan over your wound, refusing to acknowledge the warm, red liquid that pools around you. He’s had a lot of blood on his hands, but never yours. Never.

Big hands push against your torso, attempting to stop the inevitable seeping of blood from your broken and battered body. It’s no use. Your time is up. The blood that Simon so desperately tries to stop from flowing has already been used to sign your life away.

“Price. I need a medevac, now!” Simon screams into his radio, the desperation is thick in his voice. His hands on your body hurt you, pushing against wounds that you know will never be sealed again. You groan uncomfortably as he attempts to force the life back into you.

“You’ll be just fine, baby. Just fine. Hang on for me, yeah? I’ll get you out of here.” Simon rambles.

“Simon, stop.” You whisper, hand weakly covering his. He shakes his head, unbelieving that this is happening. It can’t be. He’s lost everything. He can’t lose you too. Anything, anyone but you. He’s not strong enough. His skeleton gloves are painted red, like the rose petals, the blood, seeping from your mouth and your body. He pushes harder, noises of anguish escaping from his throat. A tear slips down your cheek, the liquid mixing in with the blood.

“Simon, stop.” You plead. He shakes his head.

“I won’t let you die out here.” He says, frantic, hands putting pressure on your wounds.

“It’s too late and you know it. Please. It hurts, Simon.” You whisper, head lolling back against the wall, “Just hold me… please.”

Simon hesitates. Everything in his being is screaming at him to fix you, to make a futile attempt to heal your wounds. But how can he deny you? He doesn’t move, but your hand squeezes his and he gives in to the weak gesture. His back slumps against the wall beside you, and he scoops you into his warm arms.

You were wrong. Death isn’t peace, his arms are. You smile weakly, curling into his chest as the life seeps out from your very pores.

“I can’t lose you, Red. Not you. Medevac’s almost here. You’ve got to hang on for just a bit, yeah?” Simon says, eyes darting around the room before they land on you again. There’s so much blood, too much blood. It covers you and him. He knows that no matter how hard he scrubs, it won’t ever come out. It’s etched into his very being, stained forever.

He’ll have to burn his clothes.

For his sake, you nod, though you know it’s a lie.

“They’ll get here in time. They will.” Simon nods to himself, attempting to convince himself that you’ll be okay.

He rocks you lightly, tears slipping down his cheeks and wetting his balaclava. His brown eyes are stained red from tears. The pain in your torso begins to dissipate, a searing burn turning to a dull ache. An overwhelming numbness begins to spread from the tips of your fingertips, spreading through you like clover. It covers you, a peaceful escape from the constant pain. You realize that time is slipping through your fingers, and no matter how much you try, it will continue to fall.

“I love you, Simon.” You whisper, voice barely a puff of air. You need him to hear it, just one last time. You don’t ever want him to forget. Simon shakes his head.

“You’re gonna be okay. Don’t– don’t say that. You’ll be just fine, love. You can tell me how much you love me when you’re safe at the base.” He stumbles over his words, begging to wake up from this nightmare and be in bed next to you.

“Say it back or you’ll regret it.” You whisper, knowing he’ll beat himself up for the rest of his life if he doesn’t repeat those familiar words to you just one last time.

“I’ll tell you when we get home. You’re not going to die out here.” His resolve is strong. Denial. A cold, bloody hand comes up to rest on his cheek, leaving a bloody handprint as you cup his masked face.

“I want to–” You gasp for breath, a wheeze that Simon won’t ever unhear for the rest of his life– “I want to hear it one last time.” You smile weakly, eyes locked onto his large brown irises. They are brimming with tears that you’ve never seen fall from his eyes.

“I love you.” He whispers, shakily. “Love you so much, my Red.”

“Thank you, Simon.” You whisper, “For everything.”

Your eyes are tired, and they slip shut to unburden themselves from staying open. Simon rocks you as his warm tears drip down onto your hair. A kiss is pressed to your hair, your forehead, your cheek. A sound of anguish, of raw pain shreds through the room. You can’t bring yourself to react.

It’s like falling asleep, lulled into a blissful slumber by the man you love. It’s peaceful. Simon’s warmth fades away from you, replaced by a cold that wraps around your heart and your lungs. The icy compression squeezes the last ounce of life from your being, and the rose petals stop falling.

–

Captain Price rushes into the room, Gaz and Soap on his six. His feet stop once he lays eyes on the scene in front of him. Ghost rocks you gently, eyes frantic, full of a pain and fear that Price has never seen in the stone-cold man’s eyes.

“Where’s the heli? You’ve got to help her!” Simon yells angrily at the three men. Soap backs up slightly, a few tears brimming in his eyes.

“Price!” Simon screams, his voice raw. He doesn't understand why no one is reacting, why no one is helping. He stands up from the floor, cradling you in his arms tightly. Your head is lulled back unnaturally, your hair cascading towards the floor.

"Simon…" Price whispers, taking a few steps towards you both.

"You've got to help her! Fucking hell, Price! Please!" Simon roars. His arms are trembling. His eyes are stained red with tears.

"Simon… she isn't breathing." Price whispers, his own tears coming to the surface as he looks over your lifeless body. You're unmoving, forever still and cold in Simon's arms.

“She’s alive–” Simon shakes his head, refusing to face the truth, “She’s alive, we just have to get her into the heli!”

“Simon…” Price whispers again, “She’s already gone.”

“You have to help her, Price. Fucking hell, please– Soap, Gaz, anybody please. Fuck!”

Death had already passed through, carried you away as red dripped down from the very being of your soul.

You're grateful to not be able to hear Simon's screams.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw x reader #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #cod #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2

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aihaitahm · 2 years ago

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Hello! I saw ur request for well requests. So If this concept helps. I’d like to see your take on Jing Yuan/ Sampo Koski/ Blade and maybe Gepard on when the reader as their s/o is maybe like ambushed by an enemy and how they comfort the reader after it or nurse them back to health (it may be a lil angsty but I’d like to see your take)

gn! reader being extremely injured and how they react

characters: jing yuan, blade, gepard

im sorry idrk sampo and didnt write him though i hope you like it! :((

jing yuan

you and jing yuan were fighting jingliu after she caused a catastrophe within xianzhou luofu after being possessed by mara.

jing yuan kept insisting for you to back out and evacuate but you were stubborn and did not listen to him which lead to you taking a lethal attack from jingliu. thankfully you survived and jing yuan carried you right away after he defeated his former master.

worried about your state, he holds you tightly enough but not so much to hurt you, bringing you to get aid and to rest. poor him he is super worried, he felt a bit emotional but kept his nonchalant calm face on.

seeing you lay and rest up while he voluntarily takes care of you despite him also having injuries. yanqing tells his master he should also rest and that he can take care of you. yanqing tried his best to comfort him and force him to also heal up.

the next day, the general was eager to know if you were awake and okay. going into your assigned room, he was very happy to see you awake though that does not stop him from scolding you.

“(name) i am happy that you are with me my beloved however please listen next time when i say to back out. i am very worried about you and mimi was looking for you last night. i do not want to hear you insist and you will follow what i say. your life is important to me, do you understand?”

blade

you always like to accompany blade whenever he is out on missions. after all, supporting your boyfriend and boosting him will help him finish the mission faster while you also do great damage to enemies. then afterwards you aid him and then he gives you his affection and everything you ask for.

however fighting this boss made it to be difficult. you were already hit couple times and this boss and its minions kept targeting you.

this made blade extremely rage and tried to eliminate every enemy all at once though that wasnt enough to destroy all of them.

the only option left was to run. blade then carried you and escaped. even though blade was hurt, he didnt care as long as it wasnt you. hearing you cry how painful your injuries were made him a different type of anger. he is so sure he will defeat those little shits into pieces.

returning to the stellarons’ hideout to get you aided by the healers there, he is very impatient because they took it too slow for his liking. he then decided to bandage you on his own and bring you to them later. people knew how irritable he was however this was something else and just terrifying that they will just step away from him.

surprisingly he is super gentle and would make you drink pain relievers as you let him care for you. he scolds you as you slowly were feeling better but you just knew he was worried.

“tsk i dont fucking care if we failed the mission but next time, i will do some missions on my own. shit maybe most of it just so i know you are safe. i do not want you to… almost die. i would not be able to bear with the guilt and grief. you are my only one and i need you to stay alive.”

gepard

being the captain of the silvermane guards, he is inclined to always protect you. he would fight with you hand in hand and he would shield you from anything.

he trusts you and he knows you can fight as well as him. maybe even better. he would make you train the silvermane guards and you do a great job with it.

silvermane guards praise you for your strength and how lucky gepard is to have a partner like you. gepard is proud of you and is thankful for things that you do for them.

until one afternoon, you decided to accept a commission to defeat a bunch of monsters lurking by the city. without gepard’s knowledge about it, he was just surprised when one of the guards was carrying your body and you writhing in pain.

would be super anxious and emotional, holding your hand tight while you were being healed. even though the doctors were telling him to step out but he insisted and stayed. serval eventually had to tell her brother he has to step out in order for the doctors to fully pay attention to you. she comforted him, telling him you will be okay since you are so strong.

when he was finally allowed to see you, he was relieved and happy that you are alive. he then tells you to tell him about your commissions before going.

“my dear… im so glad you are alive and healthy. please be careful. please tell me about your commissions before you head out and make sure you know what type of monsters youre fighting. please… just be safe and bring me along with you.”

#honkai star rail #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #blade hsr #hsr blade #blade honkai star rail #gepard #gepard x reader #gepard hsr #gepard honkai

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mxlti-fand0m-imaginess · 1 year ago

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I. LOVE. your. Writing. Which is why I’m so glad you write for Evan Peters characters because my Evan phase has comeback full force. So if you’re motivated-

Tate Langdon x male reader who thinks Tate looks pretty when he cries. Honestly I can’t decide if angsty reader should be mean/manipulative towards him just to see him cry, or if Tate would be upset about something like his mom/violet did something and reader kisses his tears away and comforts him… So, whatever genre you feel like writing for🥲

“are you mad at me? i- i don’t know what i did, but whatever it is, i’m sorry,” tate said, sniffling softly as he stood in the doorway to your room.

it took everything you had to bite back the smile that threatened to grow on your face. there was this sick, sadistic pleasure you got from watching your boyfriend cry, especially when you were the reason behind his tears.

you sat up on your bed and looked over at him, opening your arms towards him to offer him comfort. tate walked over, his eyes red and puffy with tears streaming down his face, and he sat down beside you, burying himself in your embrace. you held him tightly and kissed the top of his head, trying to soothe the tears you had caused.

“of course i’m not mad at you, baby. you didn’t do anything wrong. it’s probably just all in your head, my love. okay? i could never be mad at you, you know that, don’t you?” you voice was soft, trying to calm him down as he sobbed in your embrace.

this had almost become a routine between the two of you by now. you would ignore him for a while, using his low self esteem and tendency to overthink against him, making him doubt how you felt towards him and to always assume you were upset. he would come to you crying, and you would open your arms to him and offer him comfort, manipulating him into thinking that all of his hurt was a figment of his imagination, and that you hadn’t been acting any differently towards him at all.

tate was so in love with you that he found himself believing you. no matter how many times you made him cry or how many times you manipulated him for your own twisted desires, he would always come crawling back to you for even the slightest promise of love and comfort that you offered him.

“don’t cry, my love. you’re alright. everything is just fine,” you whispered, kissing his cheek and holding him tighter, smiling when you felt him melt into your embrace.

he was nothing but your little toy. and he was too infatuated with you to even notice.

tags: @jamespotterslover @ahsxual @twinkiemaximoff @1800-fuckbitchesgetmoney @horrorgirlx @thatspookyagent @shadyspears @amourtentiaa @rottenstyx @tates-radio @hallecarey1 @im-verysad @tatesxthumbring @imaloserbabysowhydontyourailme @evilcr0ne @hocksetterrs @milly-louise @slut4kaiya @larawrrites @the-ultimate-theatre-kid

if your name is crossed off, it means i can’t tag you!

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 1 year ago

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omg hi babe it's been so fucking long im not even sure if you remember me but how are you love omg 💗

i had like the worst fucking day ever and lately my mental health has been so fucking horrible and i just wanted to see if you could write a cute little fic ab reader having a horrible day and accidentally snapping at peter quill abt it and feeling annoyed by him a bit. you can write it whenever you want mwah 🫶🫶

but how are you doing omg ive been keeping up w u and your drabbles are so fucking cute omg 😭💗💗

ily mwah

-🎡

hii!! AAAH!! ofc I remember you, ive missed you omg!! im really sorry you’ve been having a hard time bby, I hope this can be of some comfort to you. I got a little carried away as I love comfort fics sm and must admit I kinda needed it too😭 but im doing good, hope things are going well for you too (or as well as they can) you’re so sweet thank you😩 ily angel💗 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

…

got your back

peter quill x fem!reader

word count: 807

warnings: little angsty? reader snaps at quill and mentions of reader being insecure in the relationship. fluffy ending

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

Peter has many admirable qualities, the most endearing being his deep-rooted ability to empathise. You adored how he cares so deeply about others, especially the ones he loves most. It was one of the things that drew you to him the most.

Lately, you have been having a rough time, so to speak, and things weren't going in your favour. Your boyfriend, Peter, was aware and did everything he could for you to feel better, even if it was only for a little while.

Every day was different. Some days were easier, others, not so much, and it just so happened that today was one of the more difficult days. It was the kind of day where everything went wrong. The day where your clothes get caught in every door handle, the kind where you drop everything you hold. The sort of day that leaves you with an empty pit in your stomach when you finally catch a minute alone.

Peter was always so kind and patient with you that it often made you question what you did to deserve him. For you, he's loving and caring, sweet and funny, the perfect combination of all the best traits a person could have.

You felt overwhelmed with many things and the self-doubt that Peter would find someone better than you weighed heavy on your mind. You were in your bedroom alone, door closed, curtains shut with your head in your palms.

A soft knock on your door interrupts you from your thoughts. "Hey, honey? Everything okay?" Peter asks through the door, his tone full of warmth.

"Yeah," you reply shortly, burying your face in your arms.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me," he says. "I'm right here."

"Yes, I'm sure," you respond with more bite, growing frustrated.

"Okay, I'm here if you need me," he adds, speaking just as sweetly as before despite your harsh tone.

"I'm fine, just go away!" you snap, throwing a pillow at the door. "Fuck off, just leave me alone."

You didn't have to see his face to know how much your words had hurt him. You regret the sentence as soon as they slipped past your lips, but it was too late. You said them, and they can’t be unsaid.

"Okay," he whispers, tapping on the door as a farewell.

It felt like it had all just got a whole lot worse, and you just tarnished the one thing that made it easier to cope. The guilt was eating you up, and all you wanted to do was apologise. But you told him to leave, so why would he still be here?

You pace your room for a few minutes, gathering your words for an apology while momentarily cursing yourself out. You were scrounging for ways to make it up to him and patch over the mess you made.

With a small pep talk and a final nod, you open your door and see Peter sitting on the floor beside the door, leaning against the wall with crossed legs.

"Hi," you smile weakly.

"Hey," he smiles, an airy tone to his voice, speaking like he finally got his breath back. "I'm sorry— I shouldn't have pushed you. I know how you get. It’s the last thing I wanted—" he anxiously gushes, talking like he had practiced it.

You interrupt, shaking your head. "No, please don't do that. You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s all my fault— I'm so sorry. I should have never spoken to you like that. It all got too much, and I couldn't— I'm just really sorry," you profess, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater.

"I know, honey," he replies, nodding understandingly.

"You're too good to me," you whisper, avoiding his green gaze. "I'm just not used to it."

"I'm still here, baby and I ain't gonna leave you," he says, looking up at you with sweet doeful eyes. "I'm not leaving you like the others."

He extends an arm, his hand reaching for yours as he guides you closer, gently tugging you downwards. He nods at his lap, so you straddle his crossed legs, pressing your chest to his, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him tighter. His big, warm arms encase you and his hand brushes comforting strokes down your back, as his other clutches the back of your head, holding you like he's protecting you.

You bury your face further into the crook of his neck, silently weeping and embracing him tighter. "I love you," you mumble against his skin, playing with the curls behind his ears.

"I love you," he smiles, pulling back to look at you. He wipes under your eyes, softly brushing away your residual tears. He kisses the damp patch of skin beside your nose, looking at you with nothing but admiration. "... so much."

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#peter quill #peter quill fanfic #peter quill x reader #peter quill drabble #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill x fem!reader #peter quill imagine #peter quill fluff #peter quill comfort #peter quill x you

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actual-greenninja · 2 years ago

Text

I DONT WANT TO HURT YOU GUYS THE SAME WAY HE HURT ME

Genya x fem reader (angst to fluff, modern au)

**cw: yelling, arguing, harsh treatment (he apologizes) swearing, mentions of abuse, comfort**

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Synopsis

After 4 years of dating the two of you get married and start a family together consisting of 2 four year old boys and 1 two year old girl. The little family you guys started together mean the world to Genya, and he wouldn't want to do anything to harm you guys, especially in the same way his father harmed him and his mother and siblings.Recently he has been working later than usual and his boss and co workers are driving him insane with their constant demands of him. Today he arrives home at 8 at night extremely angry. He has an out burst at you and the two of you get into a fight which lead to him grabbing your fore arm and handling you harshly while yelling at you. You're 2 Sons come running in, yelling, begging him to stop, he then realised what he was doing and now he can't even look at you or his son's the same.

★Author's note: this is my first ever fic, im purely writing this to get it out of my head, sorry if my English isn't great, it is my first language im just not any good lol. Sorry if I didn't really write Genya well, it's my first time writing him. I love arguement angsty fics and I love my boy Genya. Not proof read sorry

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He didn't mean it, he swears he didn't mean it.

He didn't mean to make you cry,he didn't mean to make his son's cry, he wants to blame it on his childhood, watching his father beat up his mother and siblings almost every day must of made him think his actions were okay in the moment, but he knew that there was no excuse. He hurt you.

Things at home recently haven't been the best in terms of the relationship between you and your adoring husband, Genya Shinazugawa. The man who you have been in love with for almost 8 years now. The man you dated throughout your college years. The man who you said yes to, tears streaming down your eyes without a second thought when he proposed to you the night he took you out to the prettiest resort you had ever seen, the man who helped you and cared for you while you were pregnant with his twin boys and later his beautiful baby girl. The man who swore to make you and your children the happiest he could.

For the past two weeks you could tell that things at work haven't been going too well for Genya. He often woke up extra early, leaving you alone in bed and leaving almost immediately for work. Some mornings he won't even shyly kiss you on the forehead goodbye like he usually does, he just gets dressed and leaves you at home to take care of your loud 4 year olds and crying 2 year old. The day would go on as it usually does except now Genya gets home later than usual, sometimes it would already be dark long before he arrives home only to tiredly greet you, quickly eat the dinner you kept for him, sit with your children if they weren't already asleep and then go to bed a bit upset. It hurt you to see him upset all the time when you did get to see him, noticing how he isn't nearly as affectionate with you as he use to be. What hurt more was that your son's were starting to realize that their father didn't have time to them, making them feel like they weren't important to him, which was furthest from the truth. Today wasn't any different.

"Mommy... Psst! Mommy, wake up!"

You're eyes started to flutter tiredly, a heavy weight causing pain to your stomach. When you finally gain consciousness you find one of you twin sons sitting on your stomach with you in bed. You say tiredly "Hey, baby, what are you doing up this early?" He smiles at you with a toothy grin, showing of his little gapped teeth. "I dunno, I jus' wanna sleep with you, mommy!" You smile softly at how cute he is. You rest your hand on his cheek, his purple eyes resembling his father's shining bright at you. "Alright then, but first, where's your brother? Is he up aswell" you ask with a tired smile, a little worried that his brother may be catching up to something. Just before your question can be answered you here loud crying that came from the nursery. Your daughter must have woken up. Suddenly the cries grow closer and closer to your bedroom and before you know it your other son is running into the room with his little sister in his arms, clearly struggling to carry her weight with his small arms. He yells, panicked "Mommy! Mommy! Sissy won't stop crying! I just came to her cot and she started crying when she saw me!!" He now had tears in his own eyes, the thought of him making his beloved sister cry makes him feel terrible. You jump out of bed and take her out of your son's arms. You kiss him on the forehead before trying to calm down your daughter "Don't worry, bub. She was just crying because she missed you so much! Thank you for bringing her to me but next time just call me, alright?" You say, calming your son down. He sniffles "okay mommy, I will" he says with a faint smile.

After calming all your children down you take them to the kitchen and make your children each bowls of soft porridge for them to eat while on the couch where all four of you watched "The Goofy Movie" for the hundredth time in a row. You all sat peacefully watching, your daughter in your lap and your son's each leaning on one of your sides. The scene came on where Goofy and his son, Max are in their car on a road trip. You watched, a little bored as you practically memorised the whole script by now. That is until one of your son's tug on your pajama shirt.

He looks up at you with his sad purple eyes. You look at him, confused

"Hey, bub. What's with the face, don't you like the movie? Or is your porridge tasting weird?" You ask, trying to mask your worry. He shakes his head and speaks with a sad tone "Mommy, why doesn't Daddy love us like Goofy and Max?" With that your heart absolutely shatters. There's no way he thinks his father doesn't love him!? You rub his head with your thumb. Before you say anything your other son chimes in, sounding more upset "Yeah! Why doesn't Daddy love us anymore!? Does he not like us..?" You are now feeling frantic. Where is all this coming from? How long have they thought this!? You finally speak up, trying to hide your tears from escaping your eyes, you were feeling way too hurt by their words. "Guys, Daddy loves you! He loves you all so so much... He loves you and will never stop loving you... Why do you think he doesn't..?" You ask with worry, holding your children closer to you. One of your son's says in a sad tone, "But, Daddy doesn't play with us anymore... Daddy is never here with us..." He says, tears in his eyes. "Yeah! He doesn't play with us anymore. He leaves us all the time. He leaves mommy all the time too!" Your other son yells, feeling more upset and hurt by the realisation. Your heart is torn to shreds and you don't know what to feel. Sad that they think this, angry at your husband for not spending enough time with his family,or angry at yourself for not realizing these things sooner. You speak up with pain in your voice "No, no, no Daddy loves you guys, he loves all of us, he's just been busy with work!" You try reassuring them but you can see the four year olds aren't convinced with such an explanation. You sigh and say calmly "Ok guys, why don't we go out for ice cream and later when Daddy is home later, I'll talk to him about playing with you guys more.. how does that sound?" You ask with a weak smile, hoping that ice cream will make them forget about this whole thing for a while. Your son's eyes light up, as if the whole conversation before never happend "Ice cream! Ice cream" the boys chanted happily, making your daughter giggle in your arms. You smile at their sudden change in mood but you still feel a pool in your stomach.

Why the hell would they think such a terrible thing about their father? It's not their fault at all, but still, how could you let this happen? How could Genya let this happen? You felt anger bubbling in your chest. A mix of anger and sadness. You knew you had to talk to Genya about this, but every night you tried talking to him in the past about spending more time with his family he would just brush you off and tell you that " your being dramatic, im trying but they just won't let me catch a break at work" and end it at that. You weren't gonna let that happen tonight though. You were going to confront Genya about his behaviour and how it has been affecting you and the children.

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The evening started making its way into the sky, the bright blues from earlier fading into a mix of orange and red hues throughout the sky , clouds reappearing and taking form above. You had just finished making dinner for you and your children where they now sat on the floor of their bedroom playing with their toys that you and Genya had gifted them for their birthdays. You were now washing the dishes peacefully by yourself before you heard the door open and be slammed shut. Just by that noise you could tell that Genya just had a bad day at work. Has got to be as every time you texted him before today he wouldn't even read them nor answer them.

Genya huffed as he walked in, immediately taking of his tie and blazer, placing them on the counter. You smile at him softly, drying your hand and making your way to your husband. You kiss him on the cheek and smile up at him, glad that you get to him for the first time today.

"Hey,love, how was work? We missed you!" You say cheerfully. On any other day he would have smiled, kissed you back with a light blush and say that he missed you guys too and call for his boys to run to him and hug them tightly. Today however, he clearly wasn't in the mood, answering you with a grunt and saying in a tired, annoyed voice " Yeah, yeah, missed you too..". It was clear there wasn't any meaning behind his words and that made you feel hurt. Your two sons come running into the kitchen and run into Genya's legs happily. They look up at their father with big toothy smiles. "Daddy! We missed you! Come play with us!" They say excitedly. Genya bends down to hug his boys tiredly. He says in a forced sad tone as he hugged them. "Daddy missed you boys too, sorry guys but daddies tired so he can't play today..."

The two boys let go of their father, the one looking sad while the other looked a little upset. They both nodded and left the room without saying another word. This was the last straw for you, your heart couldn't take it anymore. Genya makes his way to the couch in the living room. He sits down tiredly, his hand in his messy mohawk cut hair, he sighed, he clearly just wanted to fall asleep right there, but you didn't let him. You took a seat next to him, you looked at him with eyes of sadness.

"Genya, love, we need to talk..." You start off, concern painting your voice. He sighs, he sounds very annoyed at your request. He looks at you with a slight glare "Can't it wait til tomorrow, can't 'ya see im not in the mood?" He snarls. You haven't seen Genya talk to you like this ever, he is usually soft with you, if he didn't want to talk he would ask politely if you could keep this for later, not snarl at you like this. You stand your ground though, not wanting to get intimidated by his annoyed state. You speak up firmly "No, we need to talk now. Look at me, it's important." He is upset by your firmness and sits up. He looks at you dead in the eye and says, his voice coated with venom, "I said im not in the mood. If it's about me being at work to much then im not fucking listening,ok?" He says angrily. His attitude towards you was making you more upset aswell. " Well can you blame me for wanting to talk about it!? It isn't good that your not at home anymore, it's affecting you and it's affecting this family!" You say forcefully,you were getting tired of all of this, you knew it wasn't exactly his fault, but right now you didn't care. He looks at you with disbelief,he was angry now, and thanks to him being at work all day,he was too tired to even think straight. He yells at you, his purple eyes piercing into you. "The fuck, you want to tell at me for wanting to provide for our family!? Are you fucking stupid or something!?" He gets up from the couch to stand and look down on you, adrenaline pumping through his veins. "What an ungrateful bitch do you have to be to think this shit!? Especially when I see you aren't doing anything for this damn family!" He yells, anger filling him. He has never yelled like this, he swore that he wouldn't. That night where he was crying into your arms 2 weeks after your wedding night. He cried saying that he never wants to hurt or even yell at you, after what he saw his father do to his mom he was traumatized. His screams still ringing through his ears. You held him closely, telling him that he will never be like his father. He promised you that he will never do anything to harm you, yet here we are.

You two kept yelling at eachother, the screams only growing louder. You scream at him, tears flowing through your eyes at this point. "Atleast our children have someone they can turn to, and doesn't push them away all the fucking time!I Amy not be out earning money but atleast I show my children the love they deserve out of a parent, what have you been doing!?" You didn't mean those things, but at the same time you meant every word. Genya's eyes widen. If you thought he was pissed before, now you've really done it. He made his way to you and grabbed your forearm tightly, making you wince at the pain.You struggle, trying to get him to let you go only for him to grip you tighter.

"TAKE THAT BACK, FUCKING TAKE IT BACK UNLESS YOU WANT TO SEE WHAT IM GONNA DO TO YOU"

He yells, his head foggy with rage at this point. He never intended to hurt you, but he wanted you to fear him for saying that he doesn't provide his children the love they need, the children he loved with all his heart. He kept swearing, telling you to take it back, but you stayed silent, the pain he was enforcing on your arm being to much. Your eyes had tears streaming down your face and you yelled overs and overs for him to let go. Before the arguement can escalate any further you here a high pitched yell come from the hallway. It was your son, he looked furious yet he had tears streams Ng down his eyes. He was trembling, his little hands balled up into small fists.

"STOP HURTING MOMMY YOU MONSTER!"

he yelled, he ran to Genya's leg and started punching it with all he had, his punches not causing any physical harm to Genya. Genya's eyes widen, his vision finally clearing from all his anger. Genya's eyes are still wide as he takes in the scene he created. His son was trying to beat him off while the woman he loved with all his heart was crying desperately trying to get out of his grasp. He let go of you and your first instinct was to run to your son and hold him to get him to stop. You try to stop your crying as you held him tightly to stop him from trying to fight his father. He finally let his little fist free to hug you tightly, crying into the crook of your neck. All Genya could hear were the sniffles coming from the two of you. He fucked up. He desperately fucked up. After some silence your son spoke up in a broken little voice. He spoke Inbetween cries " S-see. Mommy- I said- I said that - daddy h-hates us!"

Genya's heart shattered. He finally understood what you were so desperately trying to explain to him. His own son, the son who he cried for when him and his brother were born. The boy that he held with his brother every night when he was a baby. The boy who said "daddy" as his first word. The boy who was crying Infront of him, thinking that he, his own father, hated him. Genya started to panic, the scene felt so fimiliar to him, and it made his heart ache. This exact thing happend when he was younger, but he had his siblings to help him through it aswell. Here, his son had no one. Genya then noticed his other son, holding his sister, cowering in the hallway, crying with his confused sister in his hands. It reminded Genya of himself, how he cowered with his siblings while Sanemi tried beating their father off their mother. He was his father in this situation, Genya was acting how his father would and the fact tore him apart. How did he even get here, what was he thinking? He's afraid he wasn't thinking at all, and because of him not thinking he now hurt his family. He hurt you.

Tears were streaming down Genya's face. All he wanted to do was take you all into his embrace, kiss you all on the forehead as he usually does and keep you guys safe from the world, but how can he do that now? He harmed you... If anything, someone should be protecting you all from him. But he loved you guys he loved you guys more than himself. All he could do was stand and watch you guys,crying softly. After some time he finally musters up softly, his voice breaking.

"Im so sorry... Im so so sorry.... I didn't... I-"

He was stuttering, trying to think of the right words. You didn't even pay him a single glance, all your attention on your children crying in your arms. You finally stood up with a weak smile. you held your daughter in your arms and your son held your hand while the other was holding his brothers hand. You said in a strained voice,

"come on guys, Why don't I sleep with you all together in your room?"

Genya's eyes widened at this, he choked out, tears still falling from his eyes. "WAIT! P-please, can we talk..? Please, love, Im sorry.. to all of you" he choked on his sobs, Genya looked pathetic like this. It broke your heart but you knew he deserved this. You gave him one final glance before taking your children to their room. Genya was crying, swearing at himself, how is he such an idiot? What was wrong with him? He didn't want to hurt you guys. He needed to see you, he needed to hold you, he needed to explain to you, but what would he even explain? That he is a complete asshole who doesn't deserve his own family's love? He didn't know

"Fuck... What is wrong with you... Weak piece of shit... You are acting- no, no I can't be... Shit, im acting exactly like him"

All he knew he could do was wait until the children are asleep, then, maybe he could talk to you... Then if you will let him, he can talk to his children too, and apologize for this whole mess. He wanted to tell you guys how much he loved you all, he wanted to hold his sons as he did when they were babies. He wanted his daughter to look up at him with that cute smile of hers. But after all this... He....

He chokes out another sob. He walked himself to your shared bedroom and waited, hoping that you will walk in hold him like you always would.

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The hours go by and before you know it, it's 12 in the morning. You talked with your children, calming them down and put them to sleep.You wanted to go to Genya and forget about this whole thing, just have things go back to normal. But you knew you couldn't... Could you ever after this? You look down at your fore arm, it was red from how Genya handled you. After the children were sound asleep you quietly left the room. You walked to your shared bedroom, you crack the door open to see Genya laying in bed, his back facing the door. He was hunched up in the bed, you could hear the sobs coming from the bed you two shared. He was holding the pillow you slept with, burying his face into it. The whole scene was making you feel sick inside, should you even feel bad? Is it bad that you feel bad for him?

You knocked before letting yourself in. He jumps up to see you, your eyes swollen and your cheeks flushed. He is so happy to see you, yet the tears fall more than before. He wants to get up and hug you but he restrains himself, he knows he doesn't deserve it.

"(y/n)...?" He says quietly. You look at him emotionlessly and take a seat onto the bed next to him. The two of you sit in silence, not knowing what to say. There was so much to say yet you couldn't think of anything, I mean, where do you even start? You finally say quietly. "Do you finally see why I want you to spend more time with us..? The boys... They think you hate us.." you hear another choked sob come out from Genya. His hand in his hair. "IM SORRY" he squeaks out in-between cries "I see what you mean now... I don't know how I haven't realised.." You look at him, your own tears threatening to spill, but you stay strong. You say in a soft voice."Don't cry, do you really think you deserve to?" His eyes widen, he stops his crying immediately, you were right, he didn't deserve to....

"Genya.... Why? Why all of this..? What were you thinking?" You ask him in a cold tone of voice. He can't even look at you. He says quietly, his voice shaking. "I don't know... I have no excuse for this. Things at work have just been frustrating lately and it's been pissing me off.Then I took it out on you-" he nearly starts to cry again but he restrains himself." Im Sorry. I don't deserve the forgiveness of you or our children but im sorry. And please... Tell the boys that I don't hate them, fuck, I love them, I love all three of them, and I love you, more than anything.." He swallows his sobs and looks at your arm, now red and slightly bruised. "Shit... I did that to you..? I hurt you like that." His breathing gets faster. Everything starts to blur, he couldn't handle this,he cried, speaking to himself,

"I promised I'd never be like him... I promised you I'd never be like him... What the fuck, why am I like him, why am I an abusive dick , and to the people I love more than myself" he starts to spiral and it got too much for you. You cup his cheek and make him look up at you, you wipe his tears away and try to reassure him "Genya, what you did today was inexcusable, but Genya,my love, you are nothing like your father." Your own tears started to spill from your eyes, "I know you love us, and I know how much you try just to see us happy. And I know you didn't mean to hurt any of us, your father can't say he did any of these things but you can. Genya please, don't say you're like your father because you aren't. You are kind, and sweet and..-" You are now crying, who were you kidding, you could never bring yourself to be cold to him, he was yours after all, your sweet, sensitive Genya. You hugged him tightly and he cried into your neck. He spoke in between muffled cries.

"I don't want to hurt you guys the same way he hurt me.."

"And you never will.... But please, don't ever do this again, not for me but for our children"

You guys cried some more and you finally talked it out. Genya held your fore arm gently in his hand, he rubbed it in his palm, a look of pain on his face. He kissed it gently and looked up at you "I will never hurt you again... You or our children. I promise, for real this time" You smiled at him and nodded "I know you never will... But... Do they?". You both knew you had to explain this to them, but how do you explain this to 2 four year olds and 1 two year old? Just as you two were contemplating that you heard little pit pat's make their way into your shared bedroom.

It was your two boys , tired eyes looking up to see you with Genya. They looked up at you and made grabby hands, signaling that they want to be with you on the bed. You pulled them up onto the bed instead of cuddling into your lap they went into Genya's. Both of you were shocked, did they really forget already? Your one son who was trying to protect you earlier spoke tiredly, little tear bubbles in his eyes. He held onto Genya tightly. "We missed you Daddy... Can we sleep with you?" The other twin nodded in agreement, too tired to speak. Genya couldn't handle it, a few tears running down his face, a soft smile making its way onto his features. He said quietly "Of course you can... You always can."

You decided to get your daughter who was luckily sound asleep to sleep with you all in the bedroom. You and Genya were so happy,your boys seemed to be better and you two finally made up. Genya held you all close to him. He kissed you all on the forehead as your son's drifted off to sleep. He whispered to you, his voice still slightly shaky. "If you wouldn't mind... Maybe I can call in sick tomorrow and stay here with you guys?" You giggle softly "You don't have to, I can tell all this work is very important to you" he says almost instantly,moving you closer to him, "Not as important as all of you.... You can show me how you take care of these three everyday. And I can help you, I can keep these two little guys entertained and you can get a break." He says with a smile. You kiss him on his jawline, making him blush. "I would like that" you say tiredly. Before you know it you all fall asleep

Yeah, Genya then decided from that day on he will always be there for his family, and nothing will ever come before all of you.

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Im glad this is done, lol, please like this it took a long time~

Leave requests if you want but I have exams right now so I might not get to them lol, if you want! I hope you enjoyed this little fic!

#demon slayer #x reader #kny au #kny genya #digital writing #shinaguzawa genya #genya my beloved #fandom #fanfic #kny angst #angst fic #kny fluff #fluff fic #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba genya

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days-until-burnout · 5 months ago

Note

hiii sorry for bothering buttt may i request maybe scar/joel arcade au where joel wins everything for scar :333

i rlly2 like ur writings theyre all so good !!

so... FIRST OF. YOU ARE NO BOTHER. YOU DONT BOTHER ME OR ANYONE EVER. YA HEAR ME?! YOU'RE FAR FROM BOTHERING. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. and now, well. the original idea had more games but i got too into feelings. and... yeah. got a little angsty compared to what you asked for but that's writing for ya. hope you enjoy regardless also, thank you! i do try to write good-ish stuff despite the limited time and planning so im happy to hear you like it<3!

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📧 Day 22 -

Characters - Scar/Joel Words - 1,970 Time - 60 mins Content - Modern (HS/College) AU | hurt/comfort

Normally, Joel wouldn’t care about his surroundings, it was better to focus on his own thing and blend in. For as loud and imposing as he was, he rarely stuck his nose in other people’s business. But currently, the noise was getting in the way of his concentration, another missed shot. He grabbed another basketball, looked behind him to find the source of his distraction. A group of teens, all surrounding someone. He shouldn’t involve himself, way too many to handle on his own, but if he didn’t, who would stick up for whoever was at the center?

He looked around for an employee, until his attention was drawn back to the group. A panicked peace offering. Very panicked.

“Hey, hey, hey, can’t we all get along? No need to get handsy!”

Joel frowned. The response made his skin itch. Vile words. Before he knew it, the ‘leader’ was stumbling forward, the basketball bouncing away as he approached them. Familiar faces, all of them, from the same school. His eyes flickered to the person in the center, finding Scar looking up at him with undecided fear or relief. He looked back to the ‘leader’, unamused.

“Pick on someone your own size,” he gloated, keeping a neutral expression to their glare. He looked up when they stepped closer, anger in their eyes, a fist quick on his shirt. He glanced between his scrunched up shirt and them, giving them an out, “I dare you, tough guy.”

They glared, then shoved him back, but he planted himself firmly, barely moving. The group began to move away, going around him to not get in his way.

He watched them all leave the arcade before turning back to Scar, who finally settled on relief. Just as Scar opened his mouth to say something, thank him probably, he walked off to find the basketball he threw, prompting walking it back to the game that had ended. With newfound peace, he threw the ball and scored though there were no points given. Scar caught up then, rolling just behind him, so he couldn’t walk away. Well, he could, but he might as well hear him out.

“Uh– Joel, right? Thank you. You didn’t have to, I’m sorry you lost your game beca—”

“Do they pick on you?” he asked instead, not wanting to hear gratitude or apologies. After all, it wasn’t Scar’s fault, though he found it hard to let him know.

Scar looked away then, facade breaking as he stuttered some excuses, rubbing the back of his neck and clearly lying. “I, well, no– I mean, they don’t pick on me. It’s just fun! Between friends, you know, right? Just some fun between friends, teasing and messing with each other. It’s a-okay!” Scar raised his hands and did some jazz movement, a forced smile plastered on his lips. He looked tired, which was something. Joel pinned it in the back of his mind, for later, if he still felt like dealing with all this. “And it was my fault, anyways. I wasn’t looking where I was going and I must’ve hit them with my chair accidentally. It’s all alright, trust me! I– Yeah, I can handle myself. It was all fun.”

Joel didn’t believe him. But he didn’t try to pry more either. It was whatever.

He glanced over at another game, then back at Scar who seemed to have turmoil in his face. “You want to play?”

Scar looked up with wide eyes, almost sparkling but they quickly died, a sad smile replacing the excited o of his lips. “Oh, nonono, I couldn’t bother you with that! I was just here to watch for a bit. I have other things to do, places to be! I’m a busy person, very busy! My—”

“On a Saturday morning?”

“I, well– You never know with these things, Joel! People are busy and—”

“You owe me.”

Scar’s eyes went wide again, and Joel figured he could bully Scar into playing some games, which sounded sadistic but it was whatever. He didn’t have anywhere to be, and it was hard to ignore the guy in the wheelchair watching everyone else having fun in the arcade. His eyes flickered away as he fished out his arcade card, extending it to Scar, who looked between the piece of plastic and him.

“Five dollars. And don’t keep me waiting.”

Hesitantly, Scar took the card and pushed himself to the counter, Joel following behind. The exchange was quick, with Scar soon turning around and extending the card. Just as he began to thank him again, Joel walked away, Scar spluttering as he followed clumsily, careful to not hit others or the machinery. Joel stopped at a water-shooting game, pointing at it as he looked at him with an expressionless face.

“I want to play this one.”

Scar blinked seven times, opening and closing his mouth as he looked between him and the machine, timidly getting closer to tap the card on the reader. “Uh, there…”

“I wanted this one.” Joel stood on the other water-gun, and Scar reached over to tap the card. “Well, don’t waste the credit.”

“Right…” Scar placed the card on the little table, got his chair as close as he could to the seats and lifted himself on it. His hands trembled on the handles of the water-guns, staring intently at the flashing buttons in front of him before a hand reached over from his peripheral, pressing the start button.

Joel selected the level and they began, shooting zombies in waves. It was tense, Scar constantly glancing over at Joel, who eventually caught on and stared right back, almost daring him to try again. Scar didn’t, focusing on the zombies and trying to not make a bigger fool of himself. They raked up points together, until Scar died leaving him to watch Joel’s precision aim and almost calculated movements, the quick decisions and quick thinking before dying too, which Scar noticed as Joel throwing.

“Well… Uh, that was fun! Thank y–”

Joel got up and looked around the arcade, finding empty machines and pointing at one. “I want to play that one now.”

Joel didn’t walk away this time, and Scar wanted to give him the card, but he lifted himself back to his chair and followed over. Joel didn’t stray far. Never close enough for Scar to slip the card into the pocket of his hoodie, but still close enough that people moved out of the way. Scar felt sick, but he didn’t know if it was from the shame of Joel’s pity or… or maybe sick from happiness? If that was an option. Regardless, they arrived at another game, an aim game with clowns as their targets.

“You… um, do you want to play together?” Scar asked, looking up at Joel who looked away from the clowns and shrugged. His heart picked up as he tapped the card on one reader, putting it down, and only exhaling when Joel stood by his side instead of going to the other machine.

Joel showed him up at every game. And the eventual teasing began, smirks and innocent eyes. Scar found it hard to be hurt or mad or sad, found it harder and harder game after game, always aware that they spent more than the five dollars he put in. In another situation, he would’ve watched others play with a quiet jealousy, but today, he didn’t mind watching Joel killing it in games he couldn’t take part in.

“You look good,” he blurted out randomly, mind away from how late it probably was. It was hard to tell how long they’ve spent in the arcade, much longer to tell when Joel refused to stop pointing at games and now pouting to go.

Joel looked back over his shoulder, giving him a smirk that was more than that teasing one, not like the ones he gave him when he missed a clear shot or when he ended hundreds of points ahead, but it was a different kind of teasing.

“On a bike, I mean. Suits you, Bad Boy and all that,” he said quickly, waving his hand about as Joel continued to drive without looking at the screen for long. It was unfair how easy Joel made all the games look, and it was even more unfair how good Joel looked while crushing said games. “You should get one.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Scar tried not to. He tried to focus on his own steering wheel with Joel beside him, he tried to not think about it on the roller coaster simulator while their shoulders pressed against each other, and he tried to not think about it as they reached the price counter. He finally stopped thinking about it when his phone rang, and he picked to hear his mom ask where he’d been without answering her for hours now. He told the truth, promised he’d be on their pick-up spot right away.

The day was ending already?

He didn’t want it to.

“You want something?” Joel asked nonchalantly, prompting Scar to look up at him, staring at his profile for a moment. The lights just on the edge of his face, the rest in shadows before he turned to him, now half-half of lights and shadows. He looked at the prices, so far away and the corridor too narrow to enter. He shook his head, and Joel looked back.

“We didn’t get enough tickets for it, anyways,” he said a chuckle, and Joel looked at him again. “And! And even if we did, five dollars don’t cover even a quarter of the tickets needed!”

“What is it?”

Scar blinked. Joel was back to earlier, all that warmth and giggles replaced with… with something. Serious? Not mean, but firm. He looked away sheepishly, “There’s that… uh, Star Wars model? But! I don’t really want it. Nope. I’d rather have a plushie or��”

“I’m getting it.”

“Wai—”

Scar didn’t chase, the path was too narrow. But he could leave. He could leave while Joel flagged an employee, he could leave while Joel made the transaction, and he could absolutely leave while Joel walked over, the model in his arm. He could.

“Here. Hold this for me. My arms are tired.” Joel held the box between them, could very easily drop it in Scar’s lap and walk away. But he didn’t, just like how Scar didn’t leave when he could. He stood, planted in place, giving Scar the chance to reject it. Scar didn’t. “So what now? Are you leaving?”

“Uh, yeah. My mom– She will pick me up soon. Do… Um, do you need a ride home?”

Joel shook his head, ran a hand through his hair as they walked out of the arcade, headed to the lift, “Getting picked up too. Just waiting for my brother to finish work.”

Scar nodded, rolling into the lift, “So…”

“Do you come often?”

“Often? No– No, no, I don—”

“I’ve seen you around often,” Joel said as he pressed the ground floor. Joel didn’t look at him, and Scar looked at the box in his lap. “You don’t usually stay that long though. What was different today? Was it them?”

“I… No… No, I just… I was on my way to the counter to get a card…”

The wait wasn’t long. The lot was bustling with people coming in and out of the mall, everyone too busy with themselves. Before the door could open, Joel dropped the card on top of the box and took a step back.

“Well, I’ll see you at school, I guess.” Joel glanced at his phone, turning to walk back into the mall. “Oh, and I’ll see you here next Saturday too, I guess. Bye.”

The doors closed before Scar could respond. He looked forward to it though.

_____

is scarjoel not their ship name why dont they have posts what is up with you tumblr 🧍‍♂️ slashjay. anyhow. i... i really thought theyd be more popular but i guess not. someone should change that (i say, looking in the mirror) also. i was thinking about it, and i should probably tag the fics by universe 🤔 like: hc, life, modern, fantasy etc etc. which i will do tomorrow when i get sad for not doing much to trick my brain into thinking i was productive 👌

#hermitshipping #trafficshipping #scarjoel #goodtimeswithscar #smallishbeans #day 22

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