#im sorry if this was a little too hurt/comfort or angsty

[crepezinhos]

hiii, ive been like binging your work and i LOVE IT!! its so hard to find yandere genshin blogs fr😭 can i request like yandere!scaramouche punishing the reader bcs of something bad, and then like after thag reader did not want to do anything and that made him more upset and tried punishing the reader again but bcs of that the reader dies (im so so sorry if this a weird request but ive been craving HEAVYYY angstt)

Flawed Execution

POV: Scaramouche isn’t the fastest man to realize if he has hurt a person, nor does he care about them when he does it. But now that it cost your life, for how long will his ignorance last?

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a Yandere and Angsty SFW work

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER PRONOUNS

— There is NO comfort and contains graphic mentions of heavy (physical) violence

— Fatui!Yandere!Scaramouche x Imprisoned!Reader

— AU is: In-Game

“Mmmngh..!” Your legs struggled to move in direction of your bed, almost falling down to the floor within every step you took.

But you knew that if you did crumble, it’d be agonizing and difficult to stand up again or control the thick bleeding in your belly that would be favored by gravity.

You’ve been through enough reasonless torture today. First, it was him, who got mad at you for acting too shallow and not so wifely with him, and threatened you with violence. His short, harsh words about using his hands on you kept spiraling in your head, and the anxiety you’ve consequently built up throughout the hours had only made your behavior less appropriate to his high standards. That’s when his second scolding came and when his previous words about punishment were accomplished just as promised.

Glass was his weapon.

Glass from the thin wine glasses you were peacefully sharing with him before he noticed your shaky hands and timid milliseconds of eye contact.

Glass shards that penetrated your skin like mosquito bites in multiple corners of your body, and have now unified themselves to make your whole body irritated with pain. Glass shards that had swirled themselves with your locks when he hit you in your head. It didn’t even matter to him if that was his favorite haircut on you or if you had invested hours in it to make yourself presentable to him as he had always demanded from you.

How ironic, don’t you think?

And that bigger glass shard that landed very roughly in your belly when it was turn to hit your glass of wine in your body, and he didn’t seem to realize how grave the injury was.

Just remembering that moment of him dragging you through the tips of your hair down to your chamber in the basement, despite all the pain you were already going through, while he screamed horrible words at you, or you, worming in the floor in pain while banging in the room’s metal door while screaming ‘I’m sorry’ over and over like a defenseless little prey about to be eaten, made your stomach twist itself with angst.

“You useless, USELESS wife! If you can’t even look at me properly, I won’t let you look at anything else but the gray walls of your bedroom!”

That was it. You were done for.

That was why the only torture you were willing to accept at this point was the pain you’d have to feel to get on your bed and finally rest. Somehow, you were even excited for it, unlike all the other past nights that you went to sleep wondering when would you ever get rid of him, but at least sleeping deeply thanks to its softness.

With a lot of struggle, you folded and lifted your right leg, opposite to where your injury was, landing it on your bed. Then, with an uncomfortable moan and a single arm in the bed, you forced yourself to jump and lean forward, successfully landing on the bed’s wooly sheets in a very awkward position with your back facing the roof.

Due to that favorable position, you felt even more layers of blood gushing down the hand that was trying to hold it back to your guts, which made you groan in discomfort.

Now, in a situation like yours, do you consider that injury a bless or a curse? That injury could cause you to possibly lose the movement of your legs and make you even more vulnerable to someone like him. That injury could heal normally, and no permanent damage would prevail. Or that injury could lead you to death.

…

You don’t want to die.

But at the same time…

Your logical thinking couldn’t deny that it was one of the few ways you could ever gain freedom again. And if there’s any sort of after-life destiny for your soul instead of a nothingness… you’d finally rest, right? No matter how you repelled the idea of death, a man like the 6th Fatui Harbinger makes it attractive.

After that little moment you took to think and breathe, you forced yourself to swiftly turn around, your injury now facing the ceiling while the left side of your head perfectly rested at the feathered pillow.

What a perfect position.

Relaxing, comfortable, and helpful…

If you were to truly die right now, at least you’d die with dignity. You’d die in a comfortable bed after enduring your roughest beating, without any guilt of knowing that you didn’t do that to yourself. After all, suicide was never an option to you, nor would he ever let your hands harm themselves.

And if you were to survive, it wouldn’t be as honorable as death. To wake up covered in rotting dark blood, whimpering in pain and alone in that eerie chamber with him stalking you from the door’s window or the camera he has in a tall corner of the walls.

Finally, the exhaustion weighing your eyelids finally became too overwhelming for you, so they closed, and you didn’t insist on keeping them open anymore.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

.

Pancakes, juice, biscuits, cake and fruits.

These are all, right? All her favorite breakfasts in a single tray.

She’s going to like it, I know it. And then, I’m gonna slide in some apology, no matter how crappy it is, and she’s going to accept it and praise me just as I trained her to do.

Everything will be back to normal, Kunikuzushi.

It wasn’t as bad as you think.

The heavy metal door to her chamber cranked loudly as I pushed it open, immediately finding myself staring at her laying down at the bed surrounded by dark, back facing me and being highlighted by the light of the hall I came from.

“Y/N.” I called out calmly while trying to keep my worries shoved down my throat.

And she didn’t move. Perhaps my volume was too low?

“Y/N, wake up.” Her body remained frozen in its place, no matter how much I had increased my volume.

Is she really this mad at me?

Well, I know it’s not going to be a tough to make her obey me anyway, so her silent treatment is useless.

“Are you trying to do that thing where you pretend to be asleep again so I’ll leave you alone, hum?” I finally decided to put myself inside the room, still standing as far as possible from her bed.

God, what is this awful smell of blood? Has she bled this much yesterday?

“It’s ok, don’t be shy. I know you can smell your beloved pancakes from there…” I gently shook the plate from where I was, trying to tease her into waking up.

But an annoyed sigh was all that came out of me due to her stupid, unconvincing act of being asleep.

“Listen, Y/N, I know what I did yesterday was horrible and wrong, okay?” My voice finally bursted some of my worry out of my throat, finally deciding to face the moment I most wished to avoid today, actually having to apologize. “I don’t know what happened to me, I just got really angry and…” I put my palm around my face as the embarrassment of apologizing took me over. “There’s no fucking excuse, is there?” No matter how much vulnerability and sincerity I was showing to her, she kept responding me with an awkward silence.

Isn’t she scared of doing this at all? Knowing how easy it is to anger me? Knowing how cruel my punishments can be? Using the same silence of hers was what led me to punish her yesterday? And she’s doing it again?

What happened to the third law of physics?

Every action has a reaction?

“All I’ve ever wanted for us is a happy married life, ok?! This wasn’t supposed to happen! We should just ignore it, pretend it never happened, and keep moving forward, ok?!” My voice cracked a few times as I started to vomit words.

Was me being this… pathetically apologetic and regretful loser not enough for her to acknowledge me? Isn’t she noticing the sadness in my tone?

“It would be easier to achieve if you were more collaborative!” Neither did harsh, unfair words work with her.

I sighed in annoyance, giving up on both alternatives of communication.

“Ever since I met you, I felt alive. It felt like I’d found peace for once in my life. I couldn’t just let this rare opportunity to slip away from me, Y/N, you’d never understand it, but you’re what has been keeping me more sane than ever. No mater if you hate me, repel me, I need you, Y/N. The more you stay with me, the better of a man I become, the better of a husband I become, the happier you become! You know it! You’ve seen it with your own eyes! How I treat you compared to the maids?! To the other Harbingers?! To my soldiers?!” I could feel even more worry rise to my brain as she still refused to acknowledge my existence.

But I’m being romantic. I’m confessing how deep and true my passion for her is, yet, it’s like I’ve never even opened the door in the first place. Isn’t this what a common human like her would want to hear? A man who loves her every cell and is willing to do anything for a fraction of reciprocation?

Have I hurt her this bad? Have I truly broken her trust for me with I did that yesterday?

“For fuck’s sake, can you acting like a bitch and fucking look at me?! I’m talking to you!!” Not even insulting you was making you move. “I’M DIRECTLY APOLOGIZING TO YOU!” I screamed from the bottom of his lungs while waving his arms to call her attention, expecting her to at least flinch in fear since I know Y/N didn’t like it when I was screaming at her.

But as I saw her body kept itself immobile, my anger finally reached its boiling point.

“I swear to God, do you want to be punished again?! You think you can just make me speak all of that bullshit and ignore m—!” I stormed in her direction, dropping the plate carelessly in the floor, my arm immediately reaching to your shoulder and pulling it to his eyes.

And the sight that was revealed to him made him swear his artificial body had stopped working for a few seconds.

Not a single muscle of your face moved, accentuated by an extremely pale skin tone on it compared to your normal one.

But the thing that most pulled his eyes’ direction was the big stain of blood in your belly.

Scaramouche froze in his spot. He wasn’t breathing or moving, he was just staring at your body. It made it easier for his consciousness to remember more about yesterday’s incident.

“Scara, please! I’m bleeding a lot! Can you please give me one towel?! O-Or anything to stop the bleeding?! Sca—… Darling, pleeeeease!!” The bangs at the door, the desperation in your voice, your pathetic body knelt down like a dying worm, begging for his mercy…

Was this why you were calling for him? Because of this gigantic pool of blood in your belly? But yesterday, when he heard those cries, all he thought was how annoying it was, and how he proudly ignored you with a sadistic smirk in his lips. Watching you beg for his mercy was somehow pleasant to him, after all.

He quickly shook his head back to reality. Thinking about those seconds made him feel the knot in his stomach tighten with more guilt.

“… Y… Y/N..?” He shook your shoulder gently, and the result was obvious, you didn’t respond.

He scoffed.

You were a good actress, weren’t you? You might even get a prize for it after being punished for tricking him so meanly. There was no way your soul had faded away from your corpse, you were either acting or just passed out because of the amount of lost blood!

Right..?

Scaramouche’s anxious hand immediately obliged to its instinct and placed itself on top of the left side of your chest, right on top of your heart… your paralyzed heart.

“Y/N…” His voice came out as a vulnerable mewl, one that would get worse every second he didn’t see you answering him. “Y/N.” He placed both his hands in each shoulder of yours and shook them lightly. “Y/N, wake up.” His voice was firm in its order, but worry had taken his voice chords, cracking its every syllable.

But all you did was bob up and down with his movement with no resistance at all. It almost seemed like you were a real-size doll in his hands.

“Y-Y/N, I know you’re awake.” He called your name like prayer, as he still found some hope to reach a hand to your eyelids and force them open while the other barely broke your shoulder’s bones with its grip.

But the direction of your stare was far from being directed at him.

“Ha… ahaha…” He couldn’t help but scoff at you in pure nervousness. “You aren’t…” He couldn’t bring himself to say the god-forsaken word. The one thing he hoped you to avoid at any cost… your death.

“Y/N, wake the fuck up!” His hand gave up in your eyes and went back to your shoulder, shaking you more violently then before, his eyes hopefully searching everywhere for any bit of movement.

But you simply just wouldn’t move a muscle.

He looked down at the big pool of blood in your lower belly. Rage consumed him as he violently moved his hand to pull your shirt upwards, raging at your stupid circulation system that pumped blood out of you instead of your veins and arteries, angry at the the glass that dared penetrate your beautiful skin without his consent and take you away from him.

“No, no, no, no…” He couldn’t believe he allowed himself to think such a thing. You? Taken away from him? Like this?!

An idea rose to his mind as soon as he thought of that idea.

This was all caused by him. His negligence, his sadism, his lack of empathy and sensibility, his obsession, his thirst of blood, his obnoxiousness.

“Y/N, wake the fuck up!” Scaramouche’s patience was wearing thin. “For Tsaritsa’s sake, no..!” And his lips were starting to shake with his rising rage.

How could’ve he ignored your pleas yesterday?

How could he feel pleasure when he saw all that blood and all those tears coming out of you? His precious princess that he had fallen in love with so badly? That mere common girl that he transformed into a public figure by being his wife.

“You hid this away from me… YOU DID THIS TO ME!” Finally, his voice couldn’t be held back to a normal volume anymore as he begun shaking your shoulders up and down too. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?! WHY, WHY, WHY, WHY?! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING THAT YOU WANTED!” His own Electro delusion even tinkled in purple as he raged on you.

You were actually dead.

You had actually distanced yourself away from him to a place he couldn’t reach.

But Scaramouche was fighting his best to not accept it. It was written all over your face that your soul was gone, but he wanted to gaslight himself that you were still just asleep.

Although his hopes were admirable, it simply didn’t work. It would never work for someone as pessimistic and honest like him.

In search of comfort, he threw himself against your body and finally let those hanging tears in the corner of his shiny purple eyes to fall, and he begun whimpering nonstop like a little kid on your and screaming in your shoulder.

“Please, please, please, please..! You can’t go, YOU CAN’T GO! Not yet, please! Not yet!” He rubbed his forehead in the crook of your neck, wiping his salty tears in you mercilessly, but no sign was returned to him. “Oh, Archons, please! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Anything but her, please! ANYTHING BUT HER! My love… oh, my love..!” His hands slid under your back and he hugged your body like a piece of wet porcelain as he pathetically abandoned his hatred for the Gods and begged for their mercy upon his sins.

But at the same time, he couldn’t help but claw his fingernails into your skin. But he immediately regretted it as soon as he realized he was hurting you even after you died of pain. Scaramouche gave up, and instead one of his hand climbed up to your head and started fixing your hair that was so ruthlessly ruined, trying to somehow bring your dignity back.

“Don’t leave me, please..! Don’t leave me! I’ll fix you, my love… I promise! I’ll fix everything!” What was he thinking would happen as he talked to your dead corpse? That the ‘power of love’ would suddenly make you awaken again and forgive him?

Has he just realized how much your words and your forgiveness truly mattered to him? Or was it that now that he didn’t have access to it, he was starting to crave for it like a drug-addict?

He didn’t mean it. He swore on his pathetic life. It was an accident. It wasn’t his intention hurting you. It wasn’t his intention hurting you enough to permanently take you away from him.

“I’m so sorry I left you here, darling…” Just to imagine the weigh of his actions and its consequences… you in an agonizing pain, thrown in a freezing-cold floor, completely unappreciated and unloved by him despite all your previous efforts… it made something inside his chest, right where his so-desired heart was supposed to be at, to burn. “Oh, Archons!” How human of him to be unable to bare the power of his own imagination. Could he even call himself a failed puppet project anymore? What kind of puppet, especially a flawed one, cries and grieves death like this?

How come does his sister, the Shogun herself, view death as simply the end of life, while he interpreted death so much more dramatically?

After all, he could’ve avoided it. Scaramouche could’ve saved you like a true hero.

If he decided to open the door to your chamber, bring some towels and force your bleeding back to your belly, called an ambulance, and let some group of surgeons do their job, instead of neglecting you for his own pleasure, you’d still be alive. Your chest would be moving up and down to breathe, your eyes would still be blinking every few seconds and your arms would be embracing him back at this very moment.

Maybe you would’ve even learned how to be more grateful to him, or suffered some sort of amnesia that would’ve let him rebuild your relationship with him but by bit in a natural way without needing to use any sort of violence.

“Thank you for saving me, my dear!” Your voice sounded so sweet in his imagination compared to how he heard you crying last night.

Were your last words pathetic begs for help? How undignified of you. How could’ve he ever let those be your last words? You died hating him instead of loving him.

Scaramouche attached and curled his limbs all around your body like a parasite. He knew it would probably take hours for him to find energy to get up again, so at least he wanted to spend those house by your side, mourning and grieving his own choices. It didn’t matter to him if it was creepy to cling to a cold dead corpse, he still held you tight if he needed you to live. It didn’t matter if your body’s warmth had ceased long ago, or if your arms wouldn’t even try hugging him back, he could still perfectly imagine himself being hugged by you thanks to the few memories he has of you doing so.

To him, you were wearing his favorite nightgown and acting very passionate about being his ‘head-patter’, caressing every inch of head, down to every tip of his purple locks while your mouth whispered sweet words, while the both of you laid down in his bedroom’s bed, instead of the situation you were actually in at the moment. All of your hair and clothes stained and ruined, your skin smelling like raw, bloody flesh, and your unresponsive and unloving to him.

Why would he ever want to leave that beautiful, utopian dream? Only to face the reality right in front of him? No. He didn’t want that.

Could he just die there? Never open his eyes again and let himself rot with you? Could he set fire to that beautiful mansion given to him by the Tsaritsa and let himself agonizingly burn to death with you and finally find peace after centuries of suffer? Compared to the burning pain in his chest, at this point, he believed the fire wouldn’t be enough to make him feel no more pain. But he probably wouldn’t be able to anyway. Now that he’s a Fatui Harbinger, his life wasn’t as useless as before, and while he was weaker than Dottore, he’d never die and rest in peace.

More tears ran down his cheeks. He truly had no other option rather than accept all that fire in his chest and let it consume him.

Maybe he could temporarily give you away to that scientist scum, Il Dottore, and beg for his help in exchange of anything, even his own life. In the end of the day, he would prefer you living without him, rather than letting himself live without you. His preference didn’t matter anymore, though, he was already living that dystopian situation of living without you. It has been a matter of minutes and he’s already finding himself developing a depression. Was that how bad it was to be without you? Was that how the rest of his pathetic life would be like? Wanting to die every day?

Why? Why did he ever chose to hurt you in the first place? This was all his fault. The memory of him willingly grabbing that glass of wine and smashing it against your head couldn’t stop playing itself over and over again no matter how disgusted he was of it or how much he tried to replace it with better thoughts.

How ironic. He promised himself he’d hate humans forever, that he’d never succumb to the mere bits of humanity inside him, and yet, he had made the most human mistake of his life, and having the most human reaction because of it.

Not even the incoming flies that flew around the room felt comfortable of taking advantage of your dead corpse with him nearby you.

Taglist: @shyentsfoundherink @the-stinky-winky @kindofshyent @bigmantiddys @goofy-ego @sasuri123 @gaboplaydespacito @alatusorrow @luminieee @toobytub

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it <3

[sturnioz]

"don't feel nothin' towards the kid" huh. well maybe shy!reader overheard him say that n gets rlly sad bc she's falling for him :(( n when fratboy!chris tries to talk to her she shuts down because she thinks he doesn't like her :/ idk i'm hungry for some angst

note. kinda went long n angsty on this one. i am sorry (im not actually im really not)

you shouldn't be upset. truthfully, a part of you knows you have no right to feel this way. your friend had warned you from the start that chris wasn't the relationship type — that he prefers meaningless hook-ups over commitments and feelings.

but hearing him say it blatantly out loud, it stung, tearing through you like a jagged knife. the weight of his words settled on you heavily, each syllable echoing in your mind, and you felt your sensitive heart shatter into pieces., leaving a hallow ache in your chest and a lump in your throat, tight and suffocating.

your tears were already spilling over and dripping down your cheeks as you solemnly turn around make your way back up to his room, the dim light of the hallway making you feel even more suffocated. you wanted to go leave, to go home to the comfort of your own room, but your car wasn't here and the darkness outside was too frightening for you to walk alone.

you sank down onto the bed, pulling at a loose thread on your sweater, each tug a desperate attempt to distract yourself from your emotions, but quiet sniffles followed by deeper sobs only reminded you of what just happened.

in that moment, you felt stupid, pathetic, like a complete loser for ever hoping for something more — for hoping you could change him. but of course, that only ever happens in the movie, and unfortunately your life is anything but. how could you be so naïve?

you are alone with your thoughts for a little while longer, drowning in your own pitifulness, when the bedroom door creaks opens. chris saunters in so casually, a simple white shirt loose on his frame and sweatpants that hang low on his hips, his hair tousled, and his eyes are clouded and faded from the joint he sparked up earlier.

you can't bear to look at him for too long — you refuse to. instead, you fixate on the wall, your gaze drifting over his posters in hopes to distract yourself as chris moves lazily around the room, rummaging through his desk drawer, the sound of coins clinking and crisp dollar bills rustling sounding like nails on a chalkboard.

"you hungry or what, kid?" he asks, scratching his cheek as he continues to dig through the mess.

it pains you how nonchalant and casual he sounds. it feels like a punch to the gut. how can he be so unfazed to the pain that he has just caused you? you shouldn't be surprised. this is who he is.

"hey. m'talkin' to you." he adds, his voice breaking through your haze.

you swallow hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge as you still keep your eyes averted, not allowing him to see the hurt on your face. but a small sniffle escapes, and the sound immediately catches his attention. you feel the bed dip as he moves closer, fingers gripping your chin and turning your head to meet his gaze.

his eyes flick over your face, a huff leaving his lips. "what.. what's the matter with you? huh? you — you been watchin' those dumb videos again? told you not to do that, a'ight? fix your face."

chris goes to rub his thumb across your cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears, but you flinch away, opting to use your sleeve instead. his hand drops to the bed, a moment of silence hanging between you two. he shifts, tonguing at his cheek as he watches you with faded eyes that blink slowly, but studies every detail.

"what, uh.. what happened?" his concern sounds so strange to you, and it's clear it's hard for him too, judging by the way his face twitches slightly, his jaw tense. "somethin' happened to you, or what?"

you don't answer him once again, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you.

chris lets out a sigh of frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to hold back his own irritation. "look. this — this silent treatment you got goin' on right now isn't workin', yeah? it's... it's bullshit, and i can't help you if you don't talk to me, alright? so — so talk, because this silence is really startin' to piss me off—"

"i want to go home." the words escape you like a whisper, and chris' head jerks back, surprise flickering across his features.

"you.. you wanna go home — like, right now? you wanna go home right now?" chris asks you, his voice laced with disbelief. you nod slowly, hearing him scoff, his disbelief turning into frustration. "the fuck you talkin' about? you don't wanna go home, bun, you — you're stayin' here tonight, remember? with me."

"i just want to go home..."

"did you take anythin'? huh?" chris suddenly asks, grabbing your cheeks again to lift your face, his eyes probing as he examines your bloodshot gaze. "did you go through my stash while i was downstairs? is — is that why your brain is all foggy n' shit? take somethin' on the sly?"

"no! i didn't!" you whine pathetically, pushing his hand away from your face. the tears swell in your eyes again, each drop a reminder of his callous words repeating in your mind. "i want to leave, chris."

"ha..." chris breathes out, his tongue rolling across his teeth as he stares at you for a moment, the disbelief still evident on his features. then he nods, smacking his lips together. "okay, alright. then — then go. you wanna leave s'bad? go."

a flicker of relief washes over you at the thought of finally escaping and going home to be comforted by your own room, to cry as much as you please, but the idea of walking home alone in the fark fills you with dread, an unsettling knot forming in your stomach.

"get that look off your face," chris grumbles as he climbs off the bed, snatching his phone off of his bedside table. he strides over to his desk to keep a distance from you, the tension still thick in the air. "i'm callin' you an uber, then you can fuckin' go."

© STURNIOZ

[decayical]

✦ ── SOFTLY, SWEETLY !

❝ blade loves you, he will never stop loving you . ❞

01 notes: i literally have nothing to put here like ever ... this was my first time writing soft dom im pretty sure i hope it's ok 🙏🙏

02 tags: praise kink, dumbification, unintentional edging, a bit angsty a but fluffy if you squint, creampie, afab/gn reader, puppy/sweetheart/baby used as pet names, blade is called bladie :3

03 mdni blogs do not interact! a minor wrote this. word count 848

“so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, so pretty, fuck—so pretty, just for me.”

blade let out a soft whimper as he continued to thrust gently into you, his tongue slightly lolling out of his mouth as he stared into space. he probably didn't even realize how tangled up he and you were in the blankets, because all on his mind was you, you, you. your pretty face, your flushed cheeks, your soft thighs and the oh-so-heavenly way you squeezed around his fat cock.

though, to be fair, it's not like you were much better—despite blade's slow movements, the drag of his cock along your walls was enough to fuck you dumb, making your head fuzzy in the best way possible. you had been teetering on the edge of a climax for so long you became much more sensitive than usual, and even though you desperately wanted to cum you still love, love, loved the feeling—being beneath him, completely at his mercy.

blade tilted his head down to connect your tongue to his, the sloppy kiss being the only thing to ground you as he let out a pretty little moan, snapping his hips into yours just once, but it was enough to make you squeal and writhe around under his hold. in that moment, he was so deep inside of you that his tip was probably kissing your cervix from how full you felt, the unfamiliar sensation quickly becoming too much as you arched your back, trying to make sense of the situation.

blade cursed internally, shushing you and pressing comforting kisses all over your exposed neck to distract yourself from the sudden pain. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, my love…” he continued to whisper to you, resuming his slow, sensual movements as he started to rub your clit with a calloused thumb.

you squealed again, your back arching as tears pricked the corner of your eyes and you reached out to tug at his hair. “blade, blade, ‘s too big! too much, hurts, fuck, more, so—ah—so full…”

blade let out a soft chuckle, his thumb doused in your arousal moving up to caress your cheek. “you're not making any sense, puppy. is it too much or not?” he asked teasingly, licking your jaw. “like that, yeah? right here?” his thrusts suddenly got more aggressive again, but not like he was trying to stab you with his dick—they were sharp, the thrusts inward so fast you could barely process what was happening, but he'd drag his cock out of your slick walls so painfully slow a frustrated moan left your mouth.

“blaaaade,” you whined, toes curling as your legs wrapped around his waist, “love you…”

blade’s chest panged with a sort of emotion he was unfamiliar with, yet somehow the sensation felt nostalgic to him at the same time. “oh, baby,” he cooed, tucking a strand of hair away from your face, “i love you too. taking me so well, hmm? ‘s just like you were made for this dick.”

his musings made your heart flutter as your cheeks burned up, you nodded vigorously in agreement as he moved his hands to pin your wrists above your head. “mm, yeah made f’ you, made just f’ you, bladie.”

you let out this bright smile that always seemed to make blade's day, and you nuzzled the forearm and hand that was close to your head. you peppered kisses all over his scarred wrists, feeling his hands twitch and tighten over your own.

“fuck, i—i love you.” blade's head swam, the coil in his stomach tightening as he let out another shy moan. “gonna let me cum inside you, pretty? gonna let me make you all mine?”

you whined, wiggling your hips to get more friction. “c–close,” was the only thing you managed to say, but to blade it was good enough.

“we cum together,” he mumbles, hand gently grazing your jaw as he kisses you softly, deliciously. he never once changed his pace, always keeping it slow, soft, firm, but it was still enough to have his thighs twitching and your walls fluttering around him, the comfort in each other more than enough.

you came first, letting out a high-pitched squeal as you tightened around him and your fluids covered the base of his dick. blade's eyes fell closed, he muttered “fuck”, before thrusting into you just once more before he let you milk his cock. he kept on moving, trying to prolong both of your orgasms, shaky breaths leaving his chest and he whined. his release filled you to the brim and then started to spill out, truly a mesmerizing sight.

his hands let go of yours and shyly, you reached for his neck, delving into a kiss. his tongue glided over yours, tasting everything you had to offer. “so good for me,” he whispered, trailing your jaw with his fingers.

“fuck… again, bladie,” you whined, moving to rile him up. “‘gain, please? wan’ your cock.”

blade huffed. “you have that, sweetheart.” he grabbed your jaw to make you look directly into his eyes. “you have that and more.”

[sexlapis]

Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~

Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D

thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.

and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)

cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(

wc: 2k+

you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.

sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.

admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.

sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.

you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.

there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.

toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.

“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.

“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.

“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”

“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.

fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.

but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.

so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.

“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.

“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”

you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.

it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-

you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.

“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”

you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”

and then there is black.

౨ৎ

you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.

“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.

oh, toji’s here.

“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.

“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.

“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”

“oh.”

toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.

“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”

you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.

toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”

the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.

“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.

“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”

you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”

toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.

“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.

you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.

“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”

you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”

“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”

“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.

“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”

you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.

“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”

“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”

“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”

you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.

“yeah, i do.” you agree.

suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.

toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”

you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.

toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”

“i will if there’s food involved.”

“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”

a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3

[cozage]

hello! Im kinda new to tumblr so i dont really know if im supposed to send requests here so sorry if im supposed to send it somewhere else, but for my request can it be fem! Reader x sanji? Hurt to comfort where he says something mean but then apologizes? And can you pull out the angsty bit a little, but make the ending fluffy? And for the format can it be like a mini fic? If you want you can add other characters but i mainly want sanji! Thats all! Sorry if my request didnt make sense as im new to tumblr😔. Thank youu!

A/N: Hi! You did everything perfectly!! Thank you for the request <3 it was so hard to make Sanji mean even accidentally 😭 I hope this is good! It’s also not edited so please forgive any grammatical errors!  Characters: fem reader x Sanji Cw: Sanji is an idiot and says mean things (and is a little sexist) Total word count: 900

Rude Comments

“I can do it, Sanji.” Your words came out quick and short. Your temper was rising, both at your task at hand and the blonde who was hovering behind you. He didn’t normally come with you on jobs for Franky, but he had been free today.

“It’ll be faster if I do it,” Sanji offered. He reached out for the wrench. 

“I can do it!” you snapped again. You pulled away from the task and glared at him. “Franky asked me to do this, so let me do it!”

“Well, it’s just…” Sanji eyed your clenched fist around the wrench and took a step back. “It’s not really a woman’s job to do this sort of thing, and-”

“What the hell do you mean by that?” you bellowed. “You think I’m not capable of doing this?”

Sanji threw his hands up in a plea. “No my love! It’s not that at all! It’s just…you’re not very good at this.”

It felt as though you had swallowed a stone. “Franky always asks me to do this.”

“And you’re being very helpful!” Sanji said quickly. “But he gives it to you because it’s not exactly a top priority task and…well, it’s really hard to mess up.” 

Sanji gave a weary look back to your workplace as if your handiwork spoke for itself. His pitied gaze and words made you suddenly want to be alone. 

“Fine,” you mumbled, dropping the wrench to the ground. “Fix it for me, then.”

“Of course, darling!” Sanji jumped at the wrench. You were fairly sure he was already starting to explain how he turned the bolt, but you walked out the door without listening further. 

You didn’t see Sanji for a while. That was fine with you, though. You retreated to the back of the ship and perched atop a barrel, staring out at the sea to think. Did Franky always give you useless tasks just to keep you busy? You frequently had to return to the same tasks again and again. What if Franky broke things just to have you fix them? 

The thought brought tears to your eyes. You had been so sure Franky enjoyed your company and valued your help. He had called you “super indispensable” more times than you could count. Was it all just a lie?

“Darling?” 

Sanji’s voice broke through your mental spiral and you quickly wiped the tears from your cheeks. 

“Yeah?” Your voice came out wobbly, but there was no point in hiding from Sanji. 

You turned to face him. You had been ready for him to fuss over you, but you found that he was covered in sweat and grease and plenty of other weird stains and smears. He didn’t even seem to acknowledge your puffy eyes at first. He looked too exhausted.��

“So, this is the part where I apologize,” he said softly. 

He strode over to you in three steps and swept your hair out of your face. His hands were covered in grime, and you could feel the oily substance stick to your face. The feeling made you jerk away from him, but he was already pulling out a clean cloth and wiping it away. 

“I’m sorry I said those things, my love. I know you are very capable of doing anything you put your mind to. Your persistence is one of my favorite things about you. I shouldn’t have tried to take that away from you. You didn’t deserve that, and I’m so sorry I thought I could do something better than you just because of our genders.”

His words made your eyes swell. You had planned on still being mad at him after this. But seeing those crystal blue eyes and hearing his sweet words made you crumble all over again. 

“I forgive you.” You sniffed and wiped the tears from your eyes again. “Just don’t do it again.”

Sanji let out a laugh. “Oh, I will never be taking on a task Franky gives you again. You know how I said it was ‘hard to screw up’? It turns out that was wrong. I broke the whole pipe. Franky was pissed. He said he doesn’t let anyone touch that problem except you and him. Something about the pressure system needing a delicate hand, and only the two of you have the knack for it.”

It took a moment for his words to process, but you could feel your heart swelling. “Franky only lets me do that?”

Sanji nodded, guiding you towards the kitchen. “And a few other tasks. Says you’re the only one he trusts to do it right.” 

“I didn’t know that.” You had a vague feeling that you needed to cry for an entirely different reason now. 

He gave another laugh and sat you at the counter. “Well, you always excel at everything you do. It turns out I have a lot to make up for. What should we start with, chocolate cake or ice cream?”

[mbbmz]

Hey again😍I took 2 nights of thinking to actually come up with ANYTHING💀 SO, Brahman Wakasa who casually hooks up with reader to release stress n stuff. But reader realizes she's catching feelings for him and doesn't want him to be with any other girl, so she confesses it to him! Could be happy or sad ending but ngl im kinda in the mood for angst😭

Hi darling! Sorry I took a while to write this I was lacking motivation A LOT lol

Also what I write is a bit different from what you described to me but the spirit is still there, I hope you’ll still like it.

Warnings : Porn with a little plot, smut, ptv sex, riding, Waka is an asshole, kinda angsty and no comfort

NSFW under the cut

Stay.

The room was filled with panting breaths and small grunts, the headboard of your bed hitting the wall every so often. It was hard to keep your eyes open, but you did, for the sole purpose of watching the man under you.

His eyes were closed, his beautiful lips parted and a small frown on his usually relaxed features. It was almost unfair how pretty he was, his eyelashes fluttering everytime your pace varied, going from slow rolls of your hips to fast, small bounces. Your hands were settled on his firm chest, trying hard not to wander and disrupt the pace you were setting. You could feel his fingers digging in your hips, sometimes trailing down to draw lazy circles on your clit, trailing up to play with your nipples before repeating the cycle again. At this point, you didn’t care where he touched you, as long as you felt his hands on you.

You met Wakasa at a bar, three, four months ago. You don’t really remember. You remember hooking up with him, though, as it was probably one of the best nights in your life. Since then, you two became sort of… friends with benefit.

It wasn’t true, and you knew it. You weren’t even his friend. You were just a hook up, a booty call.

You were fine with that, because that’s what he was to you too. Until he wasn’t. Until you started seeing him in a different light. Until you felt a small pressure in your chest every time he was getting ready to leave. Each of those times, the words ‘don’t leave’ were threading to come out of your throat. They never did.

You felt your orgasm approaching, your pace quickening as your movements got slightly shaky, stuttering from the pleasure. You could see a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, neck and chest, making him even hotter in your eyes. His fingers came to play with your clit, rubbing it up and down in an attempt to get you closer to the edge.

A low moan escaped his lips, feeling your walls fluttering, tightening around him from the movements of his index on your sensitive mound. It was a matter of a few seconds until a wave of pleasure coursed your body, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. It always did with him.

You continued moving your hips a bit more, trying to finish him off despite the sensitivity you had down there, and it paid off after a few seconds. You were both panting heavily, trying to come down of your high. Your thighs were hurting a bit, so after gaining some energy to do so, you let his softening cock leave the warmth of your body to lay down beside him, your head on his chest.

This sweet moment lasted five minutes, tops, before he started getting up. Sitting up on your bed, you watched him picking up his clothes from the floor, getting ready to leave.

-"That was cool. Thanks for lettin’ me crash here."

Cool. That was cool. Yeah, that’s exactly how you would describe too. Of course.

You felt the same usual words burning your tongue, you were running out of time. Soon he would go past that door and there would be nothing you can do about it.

-"Why don’t you… stay a bit more?.."

Your voice came out softer than what you intended. You hated it, how desperate you sounded. When you saw him looking at you, you knew he knew. You despised the way he was looking at you right now. His face was as expressionless as usual, but you could see it in his eyes. Almost like pity, but with a tinge or irritation. Like something inconvenient had happened.

-"Needa go, got somethin’ goin’ on tonight."

No goodbye, no see you around, no take care. Just silence as he walked past the door, leaving behind him a used condom, a creaking bed and a broken heart.

Late at night, curled under your blanket, your eyes were stinging a little. You should go to sleep, you had work tomorrow. Yet despite the sting of your eyes and the overwhelming tiredness, you couldn’t take your gaze off the text you sent to him. You couldn’t take off your eyes from the small red lettering next to it.

Not delivered.

[dovveri]

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.

[wooziorgans]

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.

[meaningofaeons]

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.

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

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

© writing by Iguessweallcrazyithinktho do not steal or repost any of my content anywhere without my consent

[cowboydisaster]

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.

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

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!

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

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."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[actual-greenninja]

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**

______________________________________

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

______________________________________

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.

_______________________________________________________

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.

____________________________________________________

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.

_______________________________________________________

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!

[atinyniki]

i hate you.

group: tomorrow x together !

pairing: non idol!huening kai x f!reader

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, suggestive

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, misunderstandings, love confessions, crying, kissing, a little suggestive at the end, friends to lovers, insecurities.

authors note: thought of this scenario after my friend of like four years told me they hated me as a joke </3 sorry if its not angsty enough lmfao :P this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1255

he throws another pillow, but this time it hits you straight in the face. you giggle, throwing one back at him, but he dodges it.

“ugh! i hate you”

“i know.”

“what…?”

“i said i know.”

your eyes widen in surprise, your heart clenching in your chest. “kai…”

he looks back up at you, completely disheveled from the pillow fight that took place seconds earlier.

everything is still a mess, the sheets are ruined, there’s pillows absolutely everywhere, yet the only thing you can stare at is him.

“what do you mean…?”

you stand at the foot of the bed, still completely shocked by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. only seconds ago you were giggling with him, whacking him with your pillows and screaming in delight.

yet now, it’s as if everything has changed by the sudden confession. you stare back into his teary eyes, and you realize that he means it.

“i don’t know… you just always say it…”

“yeah but— i mean it in a playful way…”

he sighs, the tears finally spilling over his waterline. “how was i supposed to know…”, he whispers.

if you weren’t paying attention, you doubt you would have even heard his voice. you take a deep breath, sitting across from him at the other end of the bed.

“i say it all the time, kai.”

“i know…”

and it all makes sense now. every time you’ve said it, though in a playful manner, his mood has changed.

sometimes he goes quiet. sometimes his smile fades, and sometimes the happiness is sucked out of him. and it’s your fault.

“so every time i’ve said it—”

“yeah”

“kai… why didn’t you tell me?”

he doesn’t feel the need to answer your question, instead asking you something else.

“did i do something?”

“what?”

please don’t say he thinks it his fault.

“you say it a lot…”

“kai… i say that to everyone. i promise. why didn’t you tell me…?”

he doesn’t answer, only tilting his head down further. he doesn’t want you to see him in such a vulnerable state, even though he’s your best friend. 

you scoot closer towards him, pushing the hair out of his face. the second you touch him, he bursts into tears, a loud sob escaping his lips before he could stop it.

“oh kai… i’m so sorry.”

you bring up an arm wrap him in a hug, but he shrugs it off.

“d-don’t touch me…”

you instantly retract your hand, the situation suddenly becoming awkward. before you can say anything, he butts in again.

“i’m sorry… it’s not your fault. i shouldn’t act that way towards you.”

he tentatively inches his hand towards yours, linking your pinkies together. you take the chance to lace your fingers together.

“do you like me, y/n?”

“i love you kai, you’re my best friend…”

“why have you never said that to me before…?”

you furrow your brows in confusion. surely you’ve told him you loved him, right?

“im sure i have at least—“

“no, you haven’t.”

your head drops down, staring at the place next to you where your hands connect. “i’m sorry, kai. i really do love you.”

“i love you too. i sometimes think i love you too much. my friends think im in love with you. i think i am too.”

“what?”

“no. i know im in love with you. i know im in love with you because of how painful it is. how much it hurts. it hurts to know you will never see me the way i see you. it hurts because i feel like ive lost someone that i’ve never had in the first place. everything hurts, y/n. but i’ll love you just the same…”

he doesn’t even notice that he’s crying until he feels the droplets trickle down his neck. it wasn’t really a planned confession, but he didn’t know how much longer he could hold back.

“kai.”

he continues staring at his lap, not wanting you to see him like this. 

you bring a hand up to cup his cheek, and you fix his gaze towards you. his eyes are focusing on everything except you.

“kai. look at me.”

another tear slips from his eye, and you swipe it away with your thumb. 

“c’mere…”

“really? even after—“

“kai.”, you repeat, a little sternly.

he scoots closer to you, and you finally wrap your arms around him. it makes him cry even more, but he doesn’t try to stop himself anymore. 

you kiss the top of his forehead, and he quickly jerks his head towards you. you smile, wiping the remaining tears off of his face.

“y/n…”

“before i say anything, i need you to calm down, okay?”

he nods, finally getting his breathing back to normal. small whimpers leave his lips as he hugs you tighter, and your heart cracks with each sound.

“i love you, kai. i really do. i wish id told you sooner, maybe you could have avoided all this pain. i know it’s a little backwards, but you’re the light of my life. even the simple things you do make me a lot happier than i’ve been able to express…”

“so… what are you saying?”

“i’m in love with you too, kai.”

he looks back up at you, planting a kiss on your jaw. “you mean it?”

“i mean it with all of my heart. i love everything about you, kai. and i mean everything. your eyes, your smile, your voice, your heart. anything you can think of…”

he smiles at you again, the tears finally coming to a halt. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“i’m terrified. i’m terrified of what’s to come, and i didn’t want to ruin anything between us either…”

he quickly pulls you onto his lap, smoothing down the small hairs sticking up from your scalp. it feels oddly intimate, and you can’t help but smile.

“it will be scary, i know. but will you take a chance? with me…?”

“what if it doesn’t end well?”

“then it doesn’t end well, there’s nothing else we can do. but if i don’t try i know i will regret it forever…”

you find yourself staring into his eyes for way too long, and your heart flutters in your chest. you have a choice to make.

the answer is quite obvious.

“kai… can i do something?”

“anything.”

you lean down, pressing your lips to his. they slot together perfectly, like a lock and a key. it takes him a second before he kisses you back, still taken aback by the sudden action.

he places his hands on your waist as you pin him against the headboard, now impossibly close. it takes a while for you to pull away, the feeling is too addicting.

“i—“

“before anything, i need you to promise that you’ll be completely honest with me, okay? tell me if i’m hurting you, or if you’re uncomfortable. i don’t want you to feel this way ever again…”

“i promise…”

you notice the way his cheeks go red from your touch, and you place another kiss to his forehead.

“awh, baby… you’re so cute”

“hey! i’m not cute… i’m just happy. i really thought you hated me…”

you kiss over his neck, flustering him even more. the crimson color spreads to his collarbone as well, and you giggle.

he holds onto your waist to ground you, his breathing getting heavier. slowly, you lower yourself onto him again, making him groan. 

“sounds like i have a lot to make up for then, hm?”

<3

[heartofwritiing]

Absent in the spring.

paring: q!wilbur x fem!reader (+ platonic q!philza x fem!reader)

summary: a small vacation to Phil’s beach house causes you to finally break down.

authors note: a follow-up to this fic but you don’t really have to read it. some more q!wilbur angst for you guys because I miss wilbur and tullulah content! also i made it so chayanne and tallulah talk in this lets just pretend the eggs are the human-dragon hybrids that are in fanart bc thats how i see them!

warnings: a little angsty sorry, hurt-comfort, happy end, not 100% following qsmp lore, unedited! please ignore any mistakes!

“how are you holding up?”

Phil’s voice pulls you out of your trance from fidgeting with the blades of grass next to your tucked legs.

You bring your gaze up from the lush green and watch on as Chayanne and Tallulah play tag a few feet away in the field behind Phil’s beach house.

The past month had been weary as you waited for your husband to return from his tour. Days stretched on though you kept going despite that dread in your chest of missing him.

Phil had noticed you seemed less like yourself as the month went on. You were sleeping less, and getting stressed. When he came over to help you take care of Tallulah yesterday he saw how defeated you looked while trying to keep a brave face for your daughter.

Being in an empty house wasn’t fun for anyone, especially when it was too dangerous to go outside on the server alone. So, Phil invited you out to escape that empty feeling, just for a while at least. A walk and boat ride later, you were now sat beside the man with his legs crisscrossed while he munched on avocado toast.

You had shrugged plainly to his question. Fine? Okay? you didn’t know…

Squeals and giggles erupted in your ears as you watched Tallulah finally tag a breathless Chayanne, who had gotten tired of running away from his sister and let her have a turn at the one being chased. Her little legs barely kept up with her taller older sibling as he quickly regained energy.

You couldnt help the smile that was brought upon your lips. Happy they were having such a good time together, being normal for once and not sheltered from the horrors of the server that was trying to harm them every moment. They needed this time, to be care free. To be kids.

You and Phil chuckled at their antics. Though It made your heart break thinking about Wilbur being absent. He wasn’t here to hear the sounds of his daughter's sweet giggles as she played blissfully in the tall grass. To see how she was getting along with everyone, making sure they were happy and cared for.

Wilbur hadn’t sent you a letter in a week. You understood he was busy with tour, you didn’t expect him to have much time to sit and write but your worst agitations were coming true.

The disappointment was settling in each time you would go to the mailbox by the door- you and lullah had spent a day painting and decorating to your liking, with splotches of colors and your names painted across in not-so-straight letters- it would be empty with no sign of even being open since the previous morning.

“I miss him,” you say suddenly to Phil, whose gaze shifts away from the kids to you. You keep your eyes locked on them, fearing that meeting his eyes would make you finally break down into the tears you were holding back for so long.

Phil brings his hand onto your shoulder, a simple symbol of comfort.

“Awe mate, I miss him too.” he said warmly. “he’ll be back soon, im sure of it.”

Swallowing the lump building in your throat, you were so glad you had Phil there for you in these moments. Tallulah had done a good part cheering you up but sometimes you needed a real talk.

"I thought I could do this on my own but-" you choke. "I need him, Phil. He's missed so much and I can't help but think he's gonna feel guilty for not being there for her, or for me."

You let yourself break down in-front of your father in-law finally letting go of everything you’d been holding onto the past month and a half.

Phil placed his hand on your back in support as you sobbed into your hands. The aching pain in your forehead with the slight headache building, the chest pangs told you this cry was long over due.

A tap on your shoulder brings your head out from your knees. You lift your eyes to see Chayanne standing over you, his hand stretched out with a simple white flower pinching between his little fingers. His eyes held nothing but innocence as he looked down on you solemnly. He did not understand why you were so distraught, nor did he care, he just wanted to aid you in any way that he could.

"Please don't cry, Tia Y/N," his voice was small but sympathetic, making your heart sink.

Phil looked so proud in that moment, to see his son come over to aid you with comfort made him perceive he was doing something right in raising a child for once.

Taking the flower from Chayanne, he immediately crouched down to give you a tight hug around your shoulders. Surprised but grateful, you began silently crying as another pair of little arms joined the embrace - you knew it was Tallulah. Finally, you allowed yourself to let go and broke down into tears, feeling their tight embrace.

You were so glad you had these kids. Though they didn’t understand your behavior entirely there was no judgement, only care.

“For what it's worth Y/N, you have us and we will always take care of you both.”

Of course, you knew that. Phil had always been there for you since you first met him. He took his role as a father to everyone very seriously.

“thank you for bringing us here Phil, we really needed this.” you breathe as the kids pulled away from you. Phil gives you a smile of understanding.

-

A few hours passed as you all sat on the dock, watching the last glimmer of daylight fade away over the water - casting a golden glow. Phil suggested a campfire to roast marshmallows. Tallulah and Chayanne were already running off excitedly to gather various sticks to help. Once the fire was going, you all sat together on the sand telling stories, laughing, and enjoying each other's company.

The hole in your heart was healing, and the weight on your chest lifted. You realized that even though life was rough and unpredictable, having a supportive family was what mattered, and you felt content and at peace.

You saw the others smiling, knowing the shared bond was enough.

That night you all slept at the beach house, and for the first time in a month, neither you nor Tallulah had a nightmare.

The journey the following day back to Phil’s was thankfully uneventful. Mostly just shenanigans between the two children. Collecting things like leaves for the scrapbook you and Tallulah were making for Wilbur, documenting all your adventures. Chayanne running ahead to deal with any monsters who dare cross your path.

Upon seeing the tiny house with a fenced yard, you all went your separate ways. As you opened the gate to the yard, the tall purple trees and the various flowers made you miss the tiny home.

Tallulah seemed happy to be back and automatically tried dragging you to see her turtles before you could close the gate. You asked her to be patient while you brought your bags inside.

Walking up to the front door, you heard a crash from inside and you froze. You instantly reached for your sword laying on your hip. Tallulah saw this as a warning and she quickly cowered behind your legs. Preparing for the worst, it could be anyone behind the door. Charlie looking for food, (since he was living near your house in a shed last you heard.) Quackity looking to start another fight about parenting. Or worse the code monster could’ve shown up again to take Tallulah from you.

You would die before that would happen.

Tallulah clung to your legs as you quietly unlocked the door and pushed it open. You gazed down at her and saw her worried eyes.

“If something happens I need you to teleport to abuelito and Chayannes to warn them okay?” You spoke to her firmly in hushed tones, being careful. Tallulah showed you the tiny purple stone for a quick getaway and indicated she understood.

The house was exactly as you left it, except for the suitcase and guitar bag resting against the sofa, which made you frown. Then realization settled in and a gasp escapes you.

Was he here?

Or was this another trick?

As you lowered your sword, you heard someone rustling down the ladder. The wood creaked with every step as the person in the yellow sweater came into view. With round glasses leaning down his nose, fluffy hair, and long limbs, you’d know him anywhere.

Wilbur felt relief wash over him as he stopped midway on the ladder and saw you staring at him in disbelief. as if he were a ghost. It pained him slightly. You couldn’t believe it.

Wilbur was back.

Tallulah peeked out from behind your legs and the tiny gasp she let out when she saw Wilbur. She ran into his arms and cried out;

"Papa!"

Wilbur grinned as his tearful daughter ran towards him. He scooped her up in a tight embrace as you watched, tears streaming down your own cheeks. He held her swinging back and forth gently trying to hush her cries. She was so happy to finally see him again. You had never seen such a wonderful sight of the two people you loved the most in this world.

“I missed you so much Tallulah!”

Wilbur rested his head on Tallulah’s and smiled sideways at you and reached out his arm. Without hesitation, you dropped your sword, which clanked loudly on the ground, and you rushed into his embrace.

You bury your face in his neck, holding onto his scent, his body, his everything. Never wanting to forget how he felt and sounded. Tears stream down your face, drenching his sweater, but you don't care. This time, they flow out of love and happiness, not frustration or sadness.

You all cried and held onto each other for dear life.

“I missed you so, so much my love,” he coos in your ear causing you to choke out a laugh. After missing his voice for months you were so elated to hear it again.

Wilbur sniffled as he squeezed you both tightly in his arms, never wanting to let go.

“I’m here my girls, and I am never gonna leave you again,” he whispers.

This was home.

End