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pirateprincessblog · 4 months

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the other man

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: READ PART ONE HERE, also not completely proofread because i've been so tired and bloated these days i have no energy :( feel free to message me about mistakes!

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: after finding out you were used by your brother to get rid of someone he simply didn't like, you go on a break. every time you see that place or the man, you get reminded of another one who hugged your legs while on his knees, before he was dragged to his downfall. just why can't you escape it, no matter how hard you try? 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x f!reader, ft yunho 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 8.5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: prison theme, criminal!mingi, prisoner!mingi, doctor!reader, evilbrother!yunho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: semi public oral (f!receiving)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: gore, v*olence, swearing, stalking, m*rder

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"no! no, god, no! please!"

"get off me."

"please, please! yunho, please!"

"get" smack "the fuck" smack "off me!" smack.

you fall on the floor, knees hurting from being dragged across the floor all the way to his office, and cheeks red from all the hitting. you don't let go of his shirt yet, the fabric securely scrunched between your fingers.

"i'll do anything," you wipe your tears with your elbow, "anything!"

"anything?" he raises an eyebrow, lowering his hand that was about to land on you one more time.

a glint of hope appears in your eyes, and you straighten your posture. still on your knees, you put your palms together, ready to beg more. "yes, anything."

yunho is silent for a few moment, looking at you with an unreadable expression. and it kills you, that he can mask emotions so well. he crouches, getting down to your level. he cups your jaw in his big hand, and you suddenly feel shivers running down your spine.

"come with me."

his gentle touch turns into a painful one, his hand moving from your face to your hair in a split second. he drags you across the hallway, into the elevator, and throws you against the mirror wall. you barely have time to reach for the little pole to hold onto, he grabs you by your shoulders and lifts you so that you stand up.

"listen to me."

"please-"

"listen to me!" he grabs your face again, fingers digging into your cheeks and making your lips purse. "you act like a whore, you'll get treated like one. hell, i'll let everyone have their way with you, if that's what you want. but do not interfere with my work. never, ever again."

"but i-"

"have i made myself fucking clear?!"

"yes, yes!"

he finally loosens his grip, making your body slide down the wall and find peace on the floor. he punches the floor number, then leans on the elevator door. you look up at him, disgust and resentment painting your face. you hope the doors open and he falls head first on something sharp.

"don't look at me like that. this isn't my fault."

if only you could say something back, but fear has swallowed you whole. so you stay there, resorting in only sending him glares.

"frankly, it's not mingi's fault either."

"don't say his name, you don't get to-"

"it's your fault."

"it's not."

"oh, but it is. see, i warned you, little sissy. but you just don't know how to listen."

the doors open, luckily for him. you stand up, following him down a poorly lit hallway. you pass multiple metal doors, with a small window on top of each. until you stop by one right at the end. you gasp, then scream, along with the person inside. it echoes through the hallway, bouncing off the walls and torturing you.

"no, no!" you scream, trying to turn around. but yunho holds you still in front of the window, making you watch as mingi gets sat on a chair you thought you'd never see in real life. "god, please, please!"

"i said i'd make you watch."

"mr jeong!"

"watch."

"mr jeong!"

the voice gets closer, and mingi has more belts holding him with each second that passes. one of the guards stands aside, waiting for the final belt to be secured across his chest, before putting a metal electrode cap on his head.

"mr jeong!"

"what, what, what?!" he yells, letting go of you and turning towards the young guard running towards him. "do you wish to fucking join him?! how dare you interrupt-"

"inspection, mr jeong."

yunho takes a step back, breath halting for a moment. your fingers hopelessly scratch at the tiny window, eyes burning with tears as you watch the strapped man stop struggling and accept his fate. he doesn't look at you, but you know he hears you. he grimaces at your wails, avoids your gaze, and silently cries.

"fuck! go back to your position, tell barnes to start protocol b."

"what about protocol a?"

"are they in the building already?"

"yes...?"

"then, it's too late for that. protocol b starts now. block the doors as soon as the execution is done, and get rid of the evidence through the gate f." yunho then grabs you by your elbow, throwing you into the guard. "take her to elijah, let him escort her to my house. no witnesses."

the young guard nods, then guides you away from the doors. yunho opens the door, for a split second letting mingi's pained moans and wails escape the room of torture. it shatters your heart, weakens your knees, and makes you want to vomit right there. the ground sways under your feet as you try to reach the exit, the sign section Z being the last thing you see before collapsing.

when you open your eyes again, it feels like your lungs are on fire. you have been crying in your sleep, dried lines on your cheeks being proof of that. you remember waking up for a few seconds, elijah making you drink a sip of water before helping you into your bed again.

now, it is almost four in the afternoon, and you feel as if you dreamt the whole thing. but when you see elijah's note on the nightstand, you are reminded of the grey reality. the note states that yunho has ordered you lunch, and that it is in the fridge. barefoot, still in yesterday's clothes, you walk downstairs to the kitchen. you open the fridge, finding a plate of steak with grilled asparagus and mashed potatoes, along with a little bottle of orange juice. how kind of him to order you his favorite meal.

you scrunch the paper in your hand, anger making your vision red. you take the plate out, then set it on the kitchen counter. as you cut into it, you realize it is rare, blood dripping from it and soaking the mashed potatoes. it is like irony, red staining the yellow just like mingi's blood stained your dress in the cafeteria. is it some sort of a cruel joke coming from yunho? did he want you to feel sick and not eat? you slam the knife into the steak multiple times, ruining it and sending red drops of liquid everywhere. you slam your fist into the mashed potatoes, then take the asparagus and throw them at the white wall. the juice bottle shares the same fate, the knife piercing through it and letting the yellow juice drip on the marble tiles.

before you know it, the kitchen is coated in the sticky liquid, walls are poked with whatever your hand could grab, and the living room became the new victim. the recently bought leather couches were ripped open, cozy cushions no longer cozy, but only balls of cotton and feathers, and the glass coffee table was only a skeleton now, the glass shattered and digging into the rug.

you sit in the middle of it, pieces of collectible vases, statues and painting surrounding you. the sight is an invitation for yunho to strangle you right then and there. but you don't give him a chance. you gather clothes into your backpack, hygienic things and his spare wallet, then take his most favorite car out of five of them. you don't leave before keying the other four, despite the weird glances your neighbors throw you. you only smile at them, then nod your head as a greeting. they must think you are crazy. you can't wait until they tell yunho on you.

you have found peace in a cozy little hotel in a town nearby. you don't use his cards, in case he tries to track them down. he has enough cash to keep you there for at least a year. besides, you're already looking for a new job. working in a coffee shop seems promising. the fact that you know nothing but an espresso and hot chocolate doesn't seem to bother the manager. your eagerness to learn is enough for her to consider you a candidate.

if yunho has tried reaching out to you, you don't know. you got rid of your old phone, immediately upgrading to the newest one, with a fresh number. you didn't try finding out about him either. you don't care. you only hope elijah didn't get punished for your actions. after all, he only brought you home.

the hotel room is a bit cozier now that you've added your little decorations. from fake vines and fairy lights you bought from the dollar store, to expensive books and posters you got from the bookstore down the street. it is only temporary, until you decide exactly what you wish to do with your life. you've lived in yunho's shadow, having him decide for you and write out your future without asking you. and you never questioned it, really. did you dislike it at times? yes, you did. did you dare say anything? no, hell no. now that you have freedom, you are lost. yunho was always the one guiding you, and now you were alone.

"you're hired!" you hear the very next day, as you sit drenched in nervous sweat.

you breathe out, relief washing over your body. finally, a start. the first paycheck has you almost crying. people really live like this? the second one isn't a complete shock like the first one, but it could be better. by the third one, you have already accepted that you cannot live lavishly anymore. so you stop visiting the bookstore, stop buying pastries after your shift, and start cooking yourself. you didn't know it would be this hard. but it is too late to back down now. there is no way you're going back to yunho, not if you want to live.

"hey, can you help me out? it's like everyone made a decision to sit in my section today!"

your coworker is drowning in tickets, loose strands of hair falling out of her once perfect bun, and her apron is already smudged. you nod, hurriedly running over to the tables that have just sat down, again, in her section. your section is quiet, mainly because the sun is hitting it and it is way too hot to sit there.

three tables are done, and you have only one left. the man sits alone, typing something on his laptop. hopefully he didn't notice how long he had to wait. you finally approach it, eyes not leaving your notepad. "i am so sorry for the wait, we didn't expect the rush so early."

"no worries, i understand."

time stops around you, only the two of you stuck in a bubble. your fingers hold the notepad, losing colour in the tips from how hard you're gripping it. you gulp, audibly, before lowering the pad and locking eyes with brown ones. you almost run, seeing the bone chilling smile on his face.

"yunho." you gasp, fear swallowing you whole.

"iced americano, please."

you clear you throat, and finally write it down. "right. anything else?"

"no, that would be all." he goes back to typing on his laptop.

you are scared to pass by him, but remember that you are in a crowded space. he wouldn't do anything here, would he?

"oh, right."

"y-yes?" you turn around.

"a pistachio doughnut to go."

"right away."

shakily, you prepare the order. even the manager gives you a side eye, not used to that behaviour. but she doesn't say anything, assuming that you are just tired since it's almost the end of your morning shift.

"hey, could you please give this to table-"

"oh my god, i'm so sorry, but i can't. i have like four tables waiting for me, and i still haven't brought out that cookie for table six."

worth a try. you approach the table in the corner, trying to sneak a glance at the laptop screen. but yunho slams it just in time, depriving you of nosiness. you set the cup on the table, along with the paper bag with the doughnut in it.

"thank you." he says, handing you a big bill. "keep the change."

"uh, this is too much-"

"it's fine. you look like you need it."

with that, he sends you another smile and stands up, and if you didn't know him, you'd think it's genuine. but you know it's dripping with venom, and if you were alone with him somewhere, he would snatch you in a split second and have you in that very chair you keep having nightmares about.

"have a good day, miss...?"

"edwards."

"right, miss edwards."

you watch in terror as he exits the shop, not sparing you another glance. fifteen minutes ago, you just couldn't wait for the end of your shift. now? you're dreading it. up until the moment you hang the apron in your locker and gather your things, your hands don't stop shaking. not even when you exit the shop, head frantically turning in search of two brown eyes. walking to the hotel, you have time to think. he hasn't changed much, except a healed scar line near his eye. you wonder what happened. you wonder if the inspection managed to find anything. you hope they did. in revenge for mingi.

"good day, miss edwards." the receptionist greets, a smile always on her face.

"good day, rita."

"ah, that visitor of yours is so cute. is he single?"

you turn abruptly, head almost turning like an owl. "what visitor?"

"oh, the cute one! brown hair, brown eyes, very tall? he was so nice to me, even gave me a tip."

your legs have never been faster, bringing you into your room in under a minute. you barge in, like you were expecting to find your partner with a lover. you drop your work bag on the floor, approaching the unmade bed that you distinctly remember making. there is muddy footsteps all over the floor, and a familiar paper bag on the nightstand. you leave the door open, just in case, before approaching the bed. you take the paper bag in your shaky hands, eyes skimming over the written note on it.

for miss edwards, from her dear brother. miss you. x

the door slams shut, and you jump. the bag drops on the floor, and you squeal, turning around. but nobody is in the room. once you make sure you really are alone, you open the bag. you find the very doughnut you packed. you plop on the bed, scanning the food. it does look like originally packed one, so you bite into it, thinking about your next move. you can't stay here, now that he knows where you are. just how did he find you, anyway?

you take another bite, but this time your teeth stumble upon something hard. you let go after struggling, realizing it is not bits of pistachios, but something more dense. your eyes drop on the pastry, and when you can't decipher what it is, you pull it out, only to throw it on the floor with a scream. it is a chopped off finger, the small fix on tattoo on it very familiar to you. you gasp, hand flying to your mouth to stop a sob from escaping. how cruel, sick and twisted does someone's brain have to be to think of and pull something like this?

not even a week after the incident, you receive a call from your work that a costumer keeps leaving tips for you even when you're not here. the description fits yunho, but you haven't seen him at all. he knows that his name alone is enough to terrify you. this is worse than what you initially thought he'd do if he found you. it is slow torture, and you can't escape it.

you ask for a break, knowing damn well that you are safer there than you are in the hotel. but you keep messing up people's orders, spilling their drinks, and there's always missing cash from the register. your manager almost squealed with joy when you asked her for a few days off. you use the time to start thinking about alternatives. do you move towns again? do you go back to him? do you call police?

all three seem stupid and useless. for now, you'll focus on eating healthy and having some self care days. one thing is clear, if jeong yunho has made it his goal to harm you, he will do it; one way or another. he might be delaying it, toying with the prey before killing it.

you don't go back to work for another week, desperately searching for a way out. but you are bombed with random flowers, presents, and similar things waiting for you when you come back from your daily run. it has become a habit, for you to enter the room and immediately toss the unwanted gift into the hallway. you keep the severed finger in a tissue on the nightstand, each night patting it sleepily and saying good night in your head. crazy, but it is the only part of him you have left. and it makes you feel a little more at ease now that you know he is resting, not in pain. and at least you get to have proper sleep, since yunho never seems to disturb you during the night.

but universe loves to prove you wrong, because you get awoken by the door opening. you sit up straight, still halfway asleep. the person in your room halts, flowers secure in their hand and a hood over their head. you barely have time to react, because the person is quick to put a hand over your mouth. you don't see the face, from the dark and the hood, but you recognize that touch and smell anywhere.

"hush, doctor."

tears roll down your cheeks, horror and relief fighting for dominance in your body. you feel four fingers over your lips, the pinky missing. the very pinky you have in the tissue, now drained of colour.

"it's just me," he whispers, taking the hood off with his free hand. he still holds the flowers, not letting go yet.

you are overwhelmed by emotions. from relief, to fear, to sadness. you jump into his arms, without thinking. but there isn't much to think about. you only need to look into his eyes, to know that you are safe.

"mingi," you finally exhale, head buried into his neck.

"my doctor," he coos, hand rubbing your back as you cry into his hoodie, "my pretty little doctor."

now, you are confused. if mingi is holding the flowers, does it mean he was the one entering the room and leaving you presents? what about the doughnut and the finger? did they run into each other? do they work together now? what if there is a bigger story behind all of this?

"i can hear you thinking, doll."

"i'm sorry, i just-" you sob mid sentence, "i just don't know-" hiccup, "what's going on?"

"come on, lay down with me."

mingi sets the flowers right next to the scrunched tissue, then lays down and opens his arms for you. hesitantly, you lay on his chest, allowing him to wrap his warm arms around your shivering body.

"it is too much for you to handle, i know. you saw me on my death chair, and now i'm here. how about we go to sleep, and i'll tell you all in the morning?"

"no, i can't."

mingi nods, understandingly. "then, i better get to explaining.

when you fainted, yunho was called over, and it was too late for the execution. apparently, they never do it without him. sick bastard likes to watch. so, once again, i was saved by you, unknowingly."

you scoff through tears, hitting his chest gently. "right."

"i managed to fight them off and escape, and yunho had no time to deal with me because he had the inspection at his throat. he found me a little later, tried to kill me, but i managed to flee again. i cut him pretty bad, don't know if you've noticed. i was pretty proud of myself for that."

"near the eye?"

"bingo. glad to know that he has a reminder of me on his stupid face now. just like i have one." he looks down on his injured hand.

"were you the one leaving the presents for me all this time?"

"all this time? how long are we talking?"

"weeks."

mingi stills underneath you. so it isn't him. you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay sane.

"yunho found me."

"oh."

"he gave me your finger."

"he what?!" he sits up straight, visibly distraught. "he fucking what?!"

silently, you reach for the tissue, handing it to him. he takes one glance at it, then at his hand. his expression is unreadable, something between hatred and disappointment. you've never seen him like that.

"he has been terrorizing me since he found me, leaving me creepy presents and stalking me. i don't know what to do."

the man sighs, also thinking. "we could run away."

"where?"

"anywhere. just you and i. to start fresh."

"but you're an escaped convict."

you regret saying that, seeing a hurtful expression on his face. "i was wrongfully imprisoned."

are you finally getting his story from a first hand source? is this the right time to be excited about it? "why? didn't you kill your sister's boyfriend?"

"he deserved it. he was hitting and raping her."

"you aren't the one to decide who gets to live or die."

"and your brother is?"

you move away from him, jaw dropped. "he is not my brother, and you know that."

"you know what? you're the same as him. only using people when you see benefit in them." he spits, getting up from the bed and taking the flowers back.

"how dare you?!"

"watch your tone." his voice is no longer warm and cozy, but cold and stern. he looks at you with ice cold eyes, his posture different. "do not yell at me again, i am warning you now."

"what the hell is wrong with you? it's like you're an entirely different man-"

"i am. i am a free man. away from wrongful convictions, away from the abuse. i am a different, better man."

he steps closer to you, causing you to step back. your back hits the door, hand desperately searching for the door knob. he stops in front of you, mere inches away.

"but you don't want that, do you? you want the vulnerable mingi, the mingi that kneels in front of you and begs for your affection. guess what? things are different now."

this is what yunho was warning you about. and you see it just now. mingi is a criminal. a prisoner. an escaped one now. oh, how you would love for yunho to barge in and save you. but you fucked it up. you had it good, and you didn't even know it.

"that bastard deserved to get his head blown up, and i won't hesitate to do the same to the person that continues terrorizing you. you're mine, you said so yourself."

"i- i thought that was only-"

"what? dirty talk? no, no, my sweet little doctor. you are mine, and mine only." he takes your jaw into his hand, thumb caressing your tear stained cheek. "nobody can have you. nobody but me."

his other hand reaches behind your back, finding the doorknob for you. but instead of opening it, he locks it, then puts the hand on your waist.

"mine." he growls, before pressing his lips against yours.

it doesn't feel right. he is rough, not loving and warm at all. but you go with it, not having any other option available. he doesn't fight you on it, seeing that you aren't as enthusiastic as him. he pulls away, finger still cupping your face.

"come, you need some sleep."

and you listen. you go back to bed, getting into his embrace once again. only this time, it isn't anything like the first time. you fall asleep, scared to death, knowing that you now have two men who are a great danger to you. lovely.

in the morning, you are awakened by kisses on your neck. you rub your eyes, adjusting to the lighting.

"morning, darling."

"morning," you mumble, stretching.

you look down at the man, expecting to find the same possessive and cold gaze from last night. but his eyes are back to soft, and his tone is caring. what in the world?

"sleep well? i hope i didn't kick in my sleep. i tend to do that, since i'm used to sleeping alone and had barnes as my roomie."

"uh, no..." you say, puzzled. does he not remember what happened last night? or does he choose to ignore it?

"i ordered us breakfast. hope you're in the mood for waffles."

"mingi-"

"here," he adjusts your pillow against the bed frame so you can sit up straight, "i'll bring it to you."

you think this is a joke. a trap. is this the calm before the storm? if yes, how do you escape it? seeing mingi set the wooden tray on your lap so carelessly, as if you didn't fall asleep last night startled to death, makes you wonder if you should give yunho a call. would he even take you after the stunt you pulled? you eye the waffles, topped with various berries and honey. a glass of cranberry juice sits in the corner, as inviting as ever. but you don't touch it. you're too busy calculating in your head, even mingi notices your hesitation.

"what? want me to feed you?" the man in front of you jokes, popping a blueberry in his mouth.

when he sees your further lack of reaction and only your focused face, his smile drops. you gulp, hoping that last night won't happen again.

"i get it, i'm acting too normal for the situation we are in. but that's sometimes my only way out; to act like everything is fine. but everything can be fine, if you would just come with me."

"where would we even go?" you dare ask.

"anywhere you want." he replies, reaching for the knife and making you jolt. if he notices, he doesn't react. instead, he plays with it while thinking of his next words. your eyes follow as the tip of his finger runs down the sharp edge, as if determining whether it's sharp enough to use it. "just name it."

"with what money?"

"we'll figure it out. from the looks of it, you aren't doing too bad. i'm guessing you treated yourself with yunho's possessions?"

"you think nobody will recognize you?" you push. "you think yunho hasn't already sent out your photos and-"

"what the fuck is wrong with you all of a sudden?!" mingi roars, flipping the tray of food over and spilling the cranberry juice all over the white sheets. you shriek, then cover your ears as your body drowns into the mattress and beneath the covers. "answer me, dammit!"

his hand grips your wrists, pulling your hands away from your ears so he can yell at you more. you can only close your eyes, in hopes of making him disappear just for a split second.

"i came here knowing the risks, i'm offering to protect you from your awful brother, and i want to love you!"

"mingi please-" you beg through sobs, hands desperately trying to find their place back on your ears.

"why won't you let me love you?!" he then grabs you by your shoulders, shaking you. "answer me!"

the door swings open, hitting the wall with force and shaking your recently decorated shelves. books fall on the ground, but jeong yunho couldn't care less. he steps over them, grabbing mingi and landing a punch on his face. mingi stumbles, but regains his stability and wastes no time in giving yunho a taste of his own medicine. their faces soon match the colour of the spilled juice on the sheets, both of them wiping red trails from their lips and noses.

"get away from her." yunho demands, not having to raise his voice in order to make himself look intimidating. his calm expression as blood runs down his chin and onto his white shirt is scary enough. "now."

"i'm not letting her go back with you. not in that shithole."

"and i'm not letting her go with you."

you sit still on the bed, not moving a muscle and afraid to breathe. both of them look at you at the same time, causing you to squeal and jump out of the bed, legs carrying you to the door. yunho grabs you before mingi can, and for the first time in a while, you feel safe in his hands. you waste no time in wrapping your arms around his waist, burying your soaked face into his ruined shirt.

"i think it's pretty clear where she wants to be." yunho spits, protectively putting a hand on the back of your head and using the other one to push you further against him. "leave now, and i will leave you alone. you won't hear from me ever again. from either of us."

"no. i don't trust you one bit. doll, come back to me." mingi calls, putting his hand out for you to take.

you only glance at him, still in yunho's embrace and eyes full of tears. you shake your head, causing his face to drop. he frowns, then straightens his posture. something snaps inside of him, you see it. and you are grateful to have someone here, otherwise who knows what might've happened. something similar to the previous night, only worse?

"very well. that might be the stupidest decision you've made in your life."

with that, he passes by you, hitting yunho's shoulder in the process and causing you to jolt. but yunho doesn't budge. instead, he waits for the other man to leave before finally pulling away from you. you are overwhelmed by the situation, sobs finally leaving your mouth loud and clear as you try to process what just happened within a day.

"look at me," yunho says, voice soothing. "you're okay. he can't hurt you anymore."

when you only respond with a new fit of sniffs and sobs, he sighs and pulls you into a hug again.

"it's my fault."

"huh?"

"back in the elevator. it's not your fault. it's mine for keeping him alive."

"don't say that."

"you can't possibly- after what he's done to you? you still protect him?" the dark haired man scoffs in disbelief.

"no, i just- i don't like hearing you speak that way. can i just- have a day of not hearing anything about dying or living?"

yunho nods understandingly. "what do you want to do now?"

"what do you mean?" you ask, busying yourself by collecting the ruined sheets and avoiding his gaze.

"do you wish to come back and continue living with me?"

you halt your movements, trying to figure out if he is genuine or not. your eyes find his, and you try to read them as best as you can. but yunho maintains his poker face, causing you to step back.

"no prison, no anything. you can find a different job, i'll help you." he offers, seeing you put your walls up again.

"really?" you ask, not yet convinced.

"really. it's the least i can do." he looks down on the floor, admiring his shoes. "after everything i did to you."

you truly hope he is genuine. if not, well, there's nothing much you can do about it.

"okay."

the house looks the same as before your little renovating process. same pillows, same coffee table, same wallpapers. you forget how filthy rich he is. in contrast, your room was left untouched. messy, just how you left it when packing hurriedly. yunho didn't ask for his wallet or car back. he let you keep it all, even brought you job applications from nearby coffee shops on his way back from work.

"would you like to open your own?" he asks one morning, casually eating his cereal.

"what?!" you shout, causing him to flinch. "sorry, i just- what?"

"your own coffee shop. do you want it?"

"i'm not sure i'm ready for that. it's a lot of responsibility. besides, you'd buy it for me just like that?"

"yes. why not?"

you think about it, comfortable silence enveloping the two of you. you hear light crunching coming from his side of the table, the spoon gently grazing the bowl and milk dripping into it. it is the calmest morning you've had with him, and you can't help but feel grateful. you watch as he eats, wearing a simple nike set and fuzzy slippers you bought him when you were still a teen. he looks so... normal. like he doesn't torture people for fun during his working hours. like he didn't aim a lamp at your head and serve you a human finger. like he is your normal brother and this is a perfectly normal setting.

"what's on your mind?" he interrupts your thinking. "mingi?"

"yeah," you admit. "it's so weird. he was so nice in the cell, and when he came to my room... he was nice, then mean, then nice again. i'm confused."

he finishes his cereal, then brings the bowl to his lips and slurps the remaining milk. you roll your eyes, seeing the liquid drip down his chin and onto the table.

"yunho-" you cringe, watching him wipe it with his sleeve.

"i'll clean it up." he waves his hand, then reaches for paper towels to wipe his creation. "you were saying?"

"right," you clear your throat, gaze dropping on your own empty plate. "it's just- his behaviour is weird. he is so nice and loving, and the next second he is yelling at me and grabbing me like that. i've read his file, doesn't say anything about it. i've looked after him in his cell for months, he never had a rage fit. he never showed a hint of anger, let alone tried to do something to me."

yunho sighs. you look at him, eyes squinted. there's something he isn't telling you.

"yunho?"

"he has a personality disorder."

"what? why isn't that written anywhere? why didn't doctor maslow tell me?"

"listen, we made a deal, didn't we? me telling you this is my own free will, and i will tell you as much as i want."

you remember the deal, the one you've made the day you came back to the house again. if you're not going to work at the prison anymore, you don't get to interfere or ask him about it. and you accepted, gladly. you don't want to be connected with that place in any way.

"he has a personality disorder, i didn't inform you for my own private reasons. but since you came along and decided to help him, he was different. no more rage fits, even barnes was getting irritated because he had no reason to beat him."

but he still did, you want to say. and yunho knows, because he chuckles at your disgusted face.

"at first, he didn't remember the incident at his house. he was completely numb when we managed to enter the house, and was very much confused during the interrogation. even we were lost, because he was genuinely trying to help us figure out what happened. and then, when he heard a guard making a comment about his sister, we all figured it out. mingi jumped on him, bit his ear off, and that explained to us what's going on."

"oh."

"and that also explains what happened at the cafeteria, and why he was talking about protecting you. he was reliving the same story, and he couldn't contain himself."

you sit in silence, memories flooding back in. the prisoner with his throat bitten off, yunho holding mingi down, your dress soaking up the blood from the floor, all while mingi looks at you and doesn't fight back, only makes sure that you are okay.

"that's..." you huff, overwhelmed with the information you just found out, "...quite messed up. all of it."

"i know."

"if you see him again, will you bring him back?"

"no." he simply says, and with that, takes the bowl to the sink and approaches you. he plants a kiss on your head, something he hasn't done in... ever. "don't you worry about those things anymore. open a coffee shop, find a cute nerd and get married already."

"already? i am only-" you hit his shoulder, and he ruffles your hair.

"yeah, yeah. i'm leaving! don't wait for me, i won't be back until late tonight."

"yunho?" you call, voice small.

"yes?" he doesn't turn around, busy discarding his fuzzy slippers and putting his sneakers on.

"am i supposed to forget the lamp and finger incident?"

he halts his moves for a second, but pretends to be unbothered. you manage to see a frown on his face, no matter how much he tries to hide it. "that's behind us."

"i'll forever remember it." you admit.

"okay."

and with a door slam, he leaves you alone in the house. okay. it's not okay. not one bit. that part of this whole situation is still not resolved, and it is bugging you. will he do it again? is that why he isn't acknowledging it? you sigh, then make your way to bed. you rot in there all day, doing nothing but eating sweets and drinking cans of soda, your favorite show rolling on the wall tv. as the sun goes down, your eyes grow tired and irritated, and no matter how hard you try to stay awake, your body gives up.

you wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat. you keep dreaming of cells and mingi's screams, and it doesn't help that yunho isn't home most of the nights. everything is scarier when it's dark and yunho isn't here. especially tonight, when you reach for the bottle of water on your night stand and instead touch something soft. you turn your head, sleepily rubbing your eyes before taking a good look at the item.

a bouquet of tulips, with a note attached.

your heart stops, head frantically turning in search for a familiar figure hidden in the room. the window is wide open, a sign that you aren't or weren't alone. with shaky fingers, you reach for the note, using your phone light to read it.

𝒊 𝒂𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒅𝒐𝒄. 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒘? 𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚.

𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚, 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊.

you rip the note in tiny bits, then throw it in the trash and mask it with spare junk around the house. yunho can't see that. especially because you really plan on going.

fixing your favorite dress, taking your pepper spray just in case, and putting your newest sandals on, you make your way to the city library. you quietly walk among the shelves, like you once used to walk among the restricted sections. you pick a few books along the way, to look less suspicious. your heart pounds inside your chest, threatening to jump out. one part of you hopes he isn't here. you're not sure if you're ready for that encounter. the other part is getting disappointed with each section you pass, his figure not appearing yet.

you didn't quite think this through. frankly, you never do recently. how do you approach him? what do you say? what do you do?

you reach the end of the maze of shelves, letting out a disappointed, yet relieved huff. now what? the back of the note said ten in the morning, and it is now almost eleven. turning on your heel, your gaze remains on the random books you've picked.

"princess?"

you stop, head raising to find the source of the voice. song mingi stands in front of you, hands in his pockets and a hood over his head. words are lost in your throat, struggling to come together and leave your mouth. you step back, unsure of what to do. mingi steps towards you, and you continue like that, until your back hits the wall covered in shelves and massive history books.

"say something."

you fail to, only gulping and staring at him instead. his hands cup your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks as his eyes scan your features.

"please." he whispers.

"hi." you say, stupidly.

he chuckles, then presses his lips on yours. it doesn't feel wrong this time. it feels familiar, and sweeter than ever. he plants small kisses all over your face, from your cheeks, to your forehead, and then on your neck.

"mingi-" you stop him, dropping the books on the floor and putting your hands on his chest.

"i've missed you. please."

"you wanted to meet so you can fuck me?" you ask, disbelief evident on your face.

he pulls away immediately, but his hands stay on your face. "no, of course not. i wanted to talk to you, but now that i see you... i remember how much i miss you."

"this was a bad idea. i have to go."

you try pushing him away, but he grabs you by your waist and pushes you against the shelves. he drops down on his knees, hands sliding down your clothed hips and down to the bottom of your dress. you shiver as his cold hands touch your bare legs under the dress.

"mingi..." you say again, each time less convincingly.

"just... ten minutes. give me ten minutes."

his fingers find the outline of your panties, and you don't protest. remembering the last time his hands were all over you, you give yourself to him. his head disappears under your dress, hot breath caressing your clothed clit. he licks a strip over the panties, causing you to squirm. his grip on your legs hardens, spreading them in the process and making you stay still. your hand grips his hair as soon as he pulls your panties aside, hot tongue teasing the tip of your clit.

you shudder, body getting used to the foreign feeling of pleasure. mingi devours you like a starved man, sucking on your clit, licking up and down your folds, and teasing your entrance.

"you taste as sweet as you look." he pulls away just to say that, then wastes no time in picking your body off the floor and putting your legs over his shoulders.

you gasp, losing control of your body. "what if someone- ah! sees?"

"let them."

his fingers find comfort in your tight walls, scissoring and stretching you. the noises alone make you even wetter than you already are, mingi's hums combined with the slurping and squelching making you dizzy with pleasure. a knot forms at the bottom of your stomach, his fingers toying with your sensitive buttons and helping you reach the peak.

he doesn't silence you, instead, lets you moan his name as you grind your hips against him, riding out the last bits of orgasm. he licks up the remaining liquid, before putting your panties back in place and setting you down on the ground.

he finally takes his hood off, and all the pleasure and bliss you were feeling up until now disappear. his face is more wounded than ever, purple and red spots scattered on it.

"what the hell happened?!"

"yunho's men found me last night after i left your house. tried to kill me. again."

"oh my god," you put a hand over your mouth, not believing your ears. who do you even trust at this point?

"run away with me, doctor. please."

"i- i don't know." you avoid his gaze, looking at the long forgotten books on the floor.

"nobody will ever love you like i do. nobody knows you like i do. so please. make this easy for both of us and come with me."

you want to. you really do. but yunho-

"yunho is a bad man. i know he's your brother, but he is a monster. maybe you don't know, or maybe you do, but i wasn't the only one who had to endure that torture. countless of us, but only i found a way out. well, the way out found me. you found me."

you never thought about it. you only ever saw and heard of mingi, but who knows how many of them there were.

"how about this? i'll take you to my house, and while i finish some business, you can think about it. if you really don't want it, leave while i'm gone, and i'll never look for you again. however, if you do want it, there's spare clothes and a suitcase. you know what to do. that sound good?"

you nod, grateful that he is giving you time to think. he plants a kiss on your forehead, then takes your hand and leads you out of the library. you don't question where he got a car from, you like peace(lol). the house is almost an hour drive away from the library, and soon enough, you realize that it is the very same house you saw in the files back in prison. you walk the same path yunho has probably walked, only unarmed and with the person he came for.

the inside of it is mostly empty, besides a sofa in the living room and empty kitchen cabinets. there's multiple packets of cereal on the counter, and two or three unwashed bowls in the sink. is that what he has been eating since he got out?

he notices you staring at the place, a question mark almost visible above your head. "neighbors raided the house as soon as they moved out."

you hum, not sure what to say. he offers you a can of coke, which you politely take, but don't open yet. he sighs, seeing your hesitation.

"i'll be leaving now. feel free to explore, i have nothing to hide."

that was a lie, because as soon as you see him disappear down the street, you raid the house. everything seems normal, except a picture frame on the wall. you tilt it, noticing that it hangs weird. and indeed, you find something he is hiding. a hole in the wall, with a few weapons and bullets, stacks of money and jewelry. above it, a picture of you and your brother, with a knife stabbed into his face. you immediately figure out just what kind of business mingi has to finish.

yunho closes the door to your room, sighing. you texted him this morning, saying that you were meeting up with a friend. but you are not back yet, and his calls aren't reaching you. he has sent both barnes and elijah to look for you for almost an hour now, but all he has is we are close to her, sir.

he walks into his bathroom, ruffling his hair. his light blue silk sleepwear is suddenly uncomfortable, knowing that you are somewhere out there this late. he wishes you could only send him a message that you are fine. he wouldn't demand that you come back immediately, you are an adult. just to let him know that you are okay.

the man splashes his face with cold water, grief eating him inside out. every time he closes his eyes, he sees yours full of fear looking at him. as soon as you come back, he'll apologize. for everything. he will admit that he doesn't know why he did what he did. the power must've consumed him, he can't find any other reason.

he opens his eyes, looking at his drenched face and eyebags. he hasn't slept well in ages, but he is so close to it. little by little, he is working on making the prison what you wanted it to be; a place of rehabilitation, not torture and punishment. he sighs, reaching for the towel and burying his face into it. the scent of the fabric softener calms him, along with the soft texture of the towel. folding it neatly and setting it down, he glances at himself one more time. a hooded figure stares back at him, right behind him.

"FUCK!"

yunho jumps, hand grabbing the first thing he could. he shudders, for the first time ever in front of someone, when he sees the gun pointed at him in contrast to the electric toothbrush in his hand. he gulps, then glances at the open door. he runs into the dark room, hand reaching for the drawer where he keeps his weapon. but no matter how much yunho tugs, it stays shut. that bastard.

the other man catches yunho off guard, turning him around and hitting him with the weapon. yunho stumbles back, nose and teeth in incredible pain.

"fucking hell, i thought i killed you!" yunho says, spitting blood on the floor.

the hooded man in front of him only smiles, still holding the gun up. he tilts his head, somewhat creepily, sending yunho shivers up his spine. he takes a step back, realizing just how unsafe he is in his own home.

"third time's the charm, right? you failed the first two, even when you had the upper hand. now that we are even..." the hooded man tosses a spare gun on the floor, then kicks it yunho's way, "...let me see you. do your own damn dirty business."

"where is she?"

"safe from you."

"where the fuck is my sister?!"

"TAKE THE DAMN GUN AND FIGHT LIKE A MAN." mingi booms, having enough of the man in front of him.

yunho takes it, wasting no time in pointing the gun at mingi, finger hesitating to pull the trigger. mingi only laughs, not showing fear at all. yunho steps back, as if that's going to save him. he only hopes that you didn't willingly go with mingi. that no matter how bad it sounds, you went against your own will. he would be very disappointed if the first thing is true.

"pull the trigger, yunho."

something is not right.

"go on, that's what you wanted."

he is too calm.

"think about your little sister."

no, not you. he can't die and leave you behind.

"pull the damn trigger, jeong yunho!"

and yunho does, except, no bullet comes out. the weapon only clicks, and yunho barely has time to think of his next step when he hears a gunshot. he doesn't feel pain. he only feels weak, body threatening to fall. is this what it feels like to die? you don't feel anything? you just get dizzy and fall asleep?

"doc-" mingi gasps, and yunho finally looks at him. "what have you done?"

his eyes fall on your figure at the door. you hold a gun in your hand, shaking. mingi falls on the ground, and you run to yunho, handing him the weapon.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," you sob, hiding behind your brother.

"it's okay," yunho says, shielding you from mingi.

he doesn't really have to, because mingi coughs on the ground, blood spilling from his mouth and down his chin. why, he repeats, eyes piercing yours. you want to help him, even though you brought him to that state. but yunho stops you, keeping your body behind him as he points the loaded gun at the wounded man.

he doesn't need to shoot again. mingi lets out a final cough, hand slipping from his wounded chest and on the floor. his head falls to the side, eyes still locked on you, lifeless. you sob, loud. you now have someone's blood on your hands. not just anyone's, but blood of the man who your promised to heal. instead, you killed him. but it was either him or yunho, and you didn't have much choice. keeping both alive was impossible, and you didn't want to lose yunho. not your only family. family that is finally starting to feel like one.

yunho drops the gun on the floor, turning to hug you. you wail into his chest, fingers gripping the silk and tears wetting it. he hushes you, hand rubbing your back as he shields you from the unpleasant sight.

"it's finally over. you're safe now."

taglist: *i tagged everyone who wanted a part two, if you want me to remove you, please dm me :)

@mingitheii @biancaness @dionysushyung @pearltinyy @jeon-ify @staytiny23 @vantediary @mingiswifeyyyy @aricebxmb @jadenance @seoft-for-seo @sunrins @mimisamisasa @nini4m @kyolovescats

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nmakii · 7 months

Text

SWAY WITH ME…

— a date with alastor didn’t go as he had planned… but, it wasn’t that bad after all…

hi!!! i saw this idea from @callmechito and, i didnt make the idea exactly the way specified. but, i really wanted to try :)!! it is late at night though, so i did not make it as long as i wanted it to be (sorry if it’s rushed!!)

acid rain. perhaps it would’ve been wiser to check the 666 news weather report before scheduling your date…

you stood by the window of your hotel room, wearing what you’d call your sunday’s bests. thousands of sinners’ skins burning on impact from the acidic rain pouring outside.

knock!

“s/o, are you decent? may i come in?” a static voice came from the other side of the door. “uuh, yeah! come in” you called back to him as he gently opened the door.

and on the other side of the door, you saw a different side of alastor that had never been seen before; a smitten yet small smile drawn on his face, wearing a red coat, as per usual (though this time, his coat is not tattered), and his big doe eyes shyly looking at the outfit you’d chosen for your proposed date.

alastor let out a quiet sigh, an overwhelming feeling filling his chest, making it hard to breath. “my dear! well, aren’t you stunning? i might just drop dead right now, haha!” alastor laughed, a laugh track joining along. “haha… it’s a shame that we have to cancel our date…” you smiled bittersweetly, quite honestly looking forward to the date. it must have been a millennia since your last date, not to mention how it is with alastor, hell’s most eligible bachelors if i do say so myself…

“well, who said we had to cancel our date?” he tilted his head. “i’d think the rain outside would speak for itself…” you muttered out. “we could just have our date here at the hotel! we could simply move the date to my hotel room, would you like that?” his fingers tapped against his staff.

“su-“”brilliant! let’s make haste now!” he smiled gleefully, taking his hand in yours and shadow teleporting you to his hotel room— the warm red tones of the hotel harshly contrasting with the cool blue and green tones of the forest on the other side.

alastor took your fingers in his hand and gently guided you to a table with two seats. he pulled one out and helped you into the chair. “just sit tight now, darling. i’ll have niffty whip something up for us.” he smiled before leaving the room.

minutes later, alastor came back— two delectable dishes in hand. he placed one in front of you before sitting down himself and digging in.

the two of you had spent your dinner getting to know each other better (more like just him getting to know you better…), talking about whatever came to mind.

not for one second had you ever doubted alastor tonight. everything coming from his beautifully thin lips had sounded as genuine as ever.

after dinner had ended, you wiped your mouth with the napkin on your lap. “alastor, i had a really good time…” you grinned awkwardly, blood rushing to your face. “i think i must go now, i have a busy day tomorrow…” you frowned slightly before standing up to leave.

“nonsense! come, dance with me for a while, would you?” he teasingly pleaded, placing a hand on your shoulder. you hesitated for a while, considering the consequences of staying up an extra few minutes. “ahh… i guess it couldn’t hurt..” you smiled as alastor walked to his vinyl record played, placing the needle onto the grooves of the CD.

as alastor placed a hand on your shoulder and hip, sway by michael bublé began playing. you copied his actions, placing your own hands on his hip and shoulder as the two of you began dancing to the soft music, alastor’s soft voice singing along to the tune.

you soaked in the soft sight of the scary radio demon, as docile as a doe. you rested the side of your head against alastor’s chest, feeling every vibration as he sang. alastor sighed softly, all of this simply being too much for him to act calmly.

all of these emotions were too much, alastor needed a way to release them… he took his hand off of your shoulder before gently gripping your chin. he leaned down a bit before kissing you.

his lips smiled into the kiss, the hand on your hip snaking up to cup your cheek.

the kiss lasted quite long before he finally pulled away, a proud yet mischievous grin decorating his handsome face.

alastor leaned down, his mouth hovering over your ear. “would you like to know something, gorgeous?” he whispered, the hand on your chin resting once more on your shoulder. “i’d say i’m the luckiest man in hell right now, on a date with a treasure like you. i might just die, again!” he laughed. though, despite his joke— when he had said that, the radio filter on his voice was gone, letting you hear his true voice.

you looked up to meet his careful gaze as you grinned lovingly “i had a marvelous time with you… you make me happy that… im in hell.” you laughed.

as the song stopped, alastor paused, thinking to himself quietly. he dropped your hand before cupping your back. “you said you must leave, didn’t you? i wouldn’t want to be the reason you’re groggy in the morning!” he smiled, walking you over to your hotel room, just a few ways down.

“i did have an amazing night with you, my dear. i hope we could do this again, perhaps again during an acid rain shower?” he teased while laughing. a calm composure remaining on his face.

and despite that poker face, he was in the best terms; burning on the inside out. his longing for you filling all of his senses. he must stay gentlemanly though… so, for now, he’ll cherish the beautiful date he had with you tonight.

#i added so many fandom references in here lol…#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hasbin alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor

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storyarcscribe · 2 years

Text

Judgement

Namor x Reader

Word Count: 870

Summary: You chose humanity over your heart. And now you were here to face judgement by the person who shattered it.

A/N: No Namor fics yet? *Thanos Voice* Fine…. I’ll do it myself. (LMK if we are digging this for a part 2 lol)

Warnings: 18+ Only, Lil smut (if I do a part 2 there will be more lol), angst, implied previous smut, possessiveness, suicidal thoughts, war, wakanda forever spoilers, possible incorrect Mayan language translation (tried my best with research but if anyone out there has feedback please let me know!!!)

Masterlist and How to Send a Prompt

Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

You shouldn’t be here.

War raged, and yet you found yourself on the sand, standing at the edge of a turbulent ocean. The waves churned just as turmoil stirred in your veins. Your guilted thoughts raced, tears filling your eyes.

I’m sorry.

I’m so sorry.

You stepped into the surf, too numb to the feeling of its icy waters.

I deserve this.

Forgive me.

The water stilled, as if in the eye of the hurricane.

And then, he emerged from the surface, molten eyes filled with wrath.

The wrath of a god.

Ku'ku'lkán.

Namor.

You fell to your knees, sand biting into the skin, transfixed by his fury.

He was just as you remembered so long ago…. So painfully beautiful, like the sight of a wave eroding a cliff side.

He became more than a god to you. Friend. Companion. Lover.

In the beginning, all he asked for was your loyalty and silence on him and his people. You gave him not only this but love. In return, he revealed himself parts of himself to you in those moments together, slowly showing you all of himself over time.

He gifted you something he never gave to anyone on land.

Trust and devotion.

You were gladly blinded by this dream of a man and woman in love... A man who made you laugh so hard until your sides hurt, painted you beautiful stories of his kingdom with words, brought you art and trinkets from the depths of his home, confided in you, taught you his mother’s tongue, and coaxed your utter undoing each night with his hands, his mouth, and his body.

He was the water, current, waves, and the depths of an ocean and people.

You fell in love with a god.

But a god cannot love a person who betrayed him and his people.

He chose war against humanity instead of you.

And you chose humanity instead of your heart.

He promised to kill you if you ever stepped into an ocean again the day you parted.

You deserved his wrath, forsaking him for the world above. This war had waged too long with violence committed on both sides, but the people of Talokan, who you had come to love through Namor, were being slaughtered. The guilt disintegrated what left of your heart remained. And you came here before your anguish consumes you, knowing it was would be the end.

You didn’t realize your head had bowed in shame until you felt the cool blade of his spear tuck under your chin, lifting it up.

His face was blurred in your tear-soaked vision, but you could see eyes churned with an emotion you feared to never see….

Rage. Anguish.

Your tears flowed silently, pinching your lips together for fear of choking on your breath.

He just stood there, the pressure of the blade never increasing or decreasing. He had seen battle since you last saw him, three distinct claw marks scarring his cheek. You ached for him and his suffering in this war. If only you stayed. If only you chose him.

If only.

And then the blade left your chin. He slammed the tip of it into the ocean floor, the sound of it rippling across the water.

Namor extended his hand.

You didn’t hesitate to place it in his, the warmth of his hand enveloping yours like the sun.

Namor’s eyes had calmed, the tempest in them before now a gentle current. You were lulled by them as he brought you to your feet.

He pulled you with him further into the water, his eyes remaining fixed upon yours.

And once you were weightless in the ocean, he pulled you to him, your body flush against his own with hand wrapped around your back. You’re warmed, the memories and feeling of him radiating through your body.

He cupped your cheek with one hand.

His decision was made, eyes softening.

Forgiveness.

Namor chose forgiveness.

And then you broke, tears continuing to fall as you sobbed. “Ma'taali'teeni' ajawo’.”

I’m sorry, my king.

That same hand gripped the back of your neck, your face now tipped up to meet his own. You could barely breathe as his gaze burned through your own.

And he breathed one word, carving it into your soul.

Mine.

His mouth crashed into yours, coaxing it open where he poured his fury, rage, forgiveness, and love with your own. He stole your breath, suffocating it as he adored your lips, your jaw, your neck. He repeated the word to you over and over again. Your core pulsed with the heartbeat rushing through your ears.

And then he murmured new words in whispers over and over your skin.

In k'aatech.

I love you.

You whimpered, tilting your head to the sky and arching into him as his adoration became desperate. He lavished an open kiss on the pendant at the base of your neck… A gift he gave you the first night he made love to you.

You were his that day long before he spoke the words to you now.

And then his mouth found yours again before he pulled you under a swelling wave, sending you both beneath the surface into that vast, endless blue.

To his home.

To Talokan.

A/N: TENOCH ILY I AM NOT OVER THIS MAN AND THIS MOVIEEE

Update: part 2 is being worked on 🫶😽

#namor #mcu namor #tenoch huerta #wakanda forever #black panther #namor x reader #namor x gen!reader #namor smut #namor angst #namor FanFiction #mcu fanfiction #black panther fic #wakanda forever fic #storyarcscribe

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here-but-forgotten · 7 months

Text

tolerate losing me. /Valeria/wife!reader.

part one | fight. toxic yuri. emotional not goodness. mentions of infidelity. Alejandro mention. a bit toxic.

this was the only time you were wishing she would ignore you— ever intense eyes peering to meet yours. The kitchen light is off. They’re all off. And she stands there— the woman who used to make your heart flutter like a childhood crush, who pulled you from your pain like a savior, whose eyes used to soften when they met yours like a too perfect love novel,

“you’re losing me.”

You repeat, your eyes at the counter. Her hands resting on the counter. her body leaning forward. The counter separating the two of you. and it was still.

everything was. is. valeria. you. the night. the house. the house she tried to claim was a home. but it wasn’t still like water, not like a safely ignored puddle that floated little leaves like a lake, no. it is like a too-tight sweater that would choke you if you moved wrong, a mouthful off too much food that would choke you, water going down your throat wrong.

“I know, I never give you enough time,” Valeria starts— slow, poisonous, cold— “I know it’s always my fault.”

“I never said it was.”

“You don’t have to say it, you act like it. I know you act like this whole life I’ve given you has been a waste. I know all my time I gave you has been a waste in your eyes. I know I can’t do enough for you.” Snappy. Cruel.

“I know my pain is an imposition,” You murmur.

Your eyes stay on the stone.

“I’ve slaughtered men to give you this— do you think i’ll just let you leave?” her voice cracks, words too rushed to be confident.

“Maybe it would have been more efficient if you married them.”

She breathes in, a sort of shocked sound.

“You’re actually serious?”

“You’re just never here, and when you are, I feel like I’m just a burden, like a chore you don’t look forward to.”

“With you acting like this, you are.”

Your chest twists, like pulling your leg in the wrong direction.

“I wouldn’t have married me either,” You whisper, “And I wish you hadn’t.”

Still. Again. Air thick. Night dark. Eyes locked on stone like it would be something to save you, something to get you out.

You breathe in, a shaky breath, lip trembling,

“I know you don’t understand, and I don’t really expect you to anymore,” You try to keep your voice even, throat scratching.

“You’re right, I don’t understand how you’re acting like such a brat after what I’ve given you. I’ve given you everything you could have wanted— you have money, you’re safe, you can get whatever you want— and you still bitch and whine like I don’t do anything for you.”

Your lip wobbles.

“I just wanted you. I wanted to be yours, and I wanted you to be mine. I just wanted to be your equal. I gave you the best version of me. I tried,”

You breathe in deep, finally gazing at her hands,

“I tried to be your strongest, I tried to be the best little me, I tried to take up as little space, I tried to give you all my empathy,”

You shift on your feet; her empty ring finger is tapping impatiently on the counter,

“I know I loved you. And i convinced myself you loved me. But I don’t think that’s true anymore.”

“I’ve come back in fucking stitches for you.” She hissed, seething.

“Did you tell him that too?”

“I did that for my job—“

“But you lied about that too.”

“I love you and this is what I get,” Valeria lowers her voice, speaking through her teeth.

“How can you say you love me when you haven’t noticed anything wrong?” You ask, voice soft. Small.

That’s how she makes you feel. Made you feel. Small. She takes your being and she crumbles it down until she can fit you in her pocket and forget about you long enough to forget what’s digging into her skin.

“You’re always moody.”

“I mess up and I know that, I don’t know why you can’t admit you mess up sometimes too.”

“I’m not here long enough to need to do that.”

“I know.”

Your heartbeat is the only noise for a while. Beating in your ears. If you had counted the rhythm, maybe you would have known how much time had passed.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Valeria snaps, a little too quickly.

“Why were you with him? What about ‘work’ would need you to be with him?”

“There are things you don’t understand—“

“I fucking know that, that’s why I’m asking,” You snap, a little too quickly, the words leaving you before you had the chance to catch them.

Valeria stops. And normally you would pick your words back up, hide them again, try to tell her you didn’t mean it, yet,

“I don’t know anything about what you do. I know barely anymore about you. I know what you have crafted for me, but that’s it.”

“I’m trying to keep you safe, but if you want to get yourself killed—”

“—I don’t know how fucking your colonel is a part of that—”

“—Then i’ll let you do it.”

Her words fall into place in your head after a moment, your eyes stinging.

“What?”

Valeria is quiet.

“You want me to die?”

“No— I didn’t mean it like that—“

“How else do you mean that?”

Valeria is quiet.

“Why do you even keep me around then? Just to be convenient? Just to be able to have someone to talk at?”

Valeria is quiet.

“Do you just want a toy? To keep around?”

Valeria is quiet.

“You’re losing me and you don’t care to fight for it.”

“I never said that.”

“You don’t have to say that, you act like it.“

Valeria is quiet.

You might just have dealt the final blow.

“I’m only here when you want it. Some days I get two sentences out of you before you go away again. If i’m lucky I get a ‘good night’. I’m lucky if I get to see you on the weekend. But I normally don’t.”

Valeria is quiet.

“You left your phone here. One of them.”

Valeria shifts.

“You seem to be able to talk to everyone except me.”

“It’s not like that—“

“I don’t know how flirting with a man you’re not married to, who is your superior, who you’ve apparently known your whole life, how fucking a man you’re not married to because you asked him to, isn’t like that.”

“Why would you invade my space like that?”

“It’s not invading when you’ve given me explicit permission. I suppose I just found the one that was the worst to find.”

She shifts again, turning away from the counter.

“It was for work.”

Her voice is finally soft. Not commanding. Not booming. Not snapping.

“You can flirt for work but ignore your wife for years?”

“I haven’t been ignoring you.”

“What would you call it then? Not paying me any attention no matter how much I reach for you, no matter how much I beg, no matter how much I strip myself back into the most raw, vulnerable pieces of me, no matter what I do not being good enough for you— what else is that?”

“It’s ignoring you.”

That’s an argument you wish you hadn’t won.

“I knew you had a couple of phones, for work,” you start, moving away from the counter, “But I didn’t know about that grey one.”

Valeria goes still.

“Who is Judith?”

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I’m not too scared. You’ve already killed me.”

Valeria sighs.

“She has nice tits but she’s not who you’re married to. Unless this whole ‘married’ thing was a lie. I might believe you if it was.”

Valeria is quiet.

“Please just fucking say something.”

“I loved you.”

You nod, to yourself. She isn’t looking at you.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t enough to keep around. But I wish you had let me go sooner.”

“you were enough.”

Your lip trembles. Again.

“I don’t believe many of the words coming out of your mouth anymore.”

“Did you tell Alejandro?”

“Who?”

She sighs.

“The man.”

“I wouldn’t know his name. I just found out about it.”

She sighs.

“I don’t appreciate the accusation but, I suppose that type of thing doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I know I talk to you everyday like you need but I do care about you.”

“I find that hard to believe,” You murmur, soft, “I don’t need everyday, I just needed more than twice a month when you’re horny.”

She scoffs, but doesn’t say anything.

Valeria is quiet.

You are quiet.

The house is quiet.

“I need to go out,” Valeria finally says, moving towards the door, “I’m sorry I’m leaving you alone.”

“I’m used to it.”

“I don’t need your snark.”

“That wasn’t snark.”

She stops for a moment, pulling something out of her pocket, resting it on the counter with a soft clink.

“You… I want you to keep this place,” She whispers, her voice wobbling, “And you can burn all my shit. I won’t come back… if you don’t want me to.”

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” Her voice turns towards you, your eyes lost in a corner of the room, “I get ‘okay’?”

“I’ve already done a lot of talking.”

She pauses.

“I suppose you have.”

She steps, pulling the door open silently, slamming it behind her.

A pot on the wall jumps, hitting the wall.

And the house is quiet.

And your heartbeat has softened.

And it is quiet, as usual, but there’s a weight lifted.

You move, walking through the house silently—

“Burn all my shit— you already took it,” You murmur to yourself, finally turning on a light, warm light filling the room. There was nothing of hers left. Nothing that mattered. A pair of socks. An undershirt. A receipt. One of her burner phones. Moving without thought, you pick the phone up; caller id’s in Spanish or code, nothing particular sticking out, only that the man seemed to have had the same fight you just did. There’s a couple of angry voice mails. In Spanish. A mans voice. You hear the name Valeria but don’t listen too hard. A lot of aggressive “¿Que?”’s thrown in there. You put the phone down, looking at the rather dumb caller I.D. “CAV”. One word. All caps.

But you listen. You throw the clothes outside. You throw the receipt in the trash. But you keep that phone. And you watch it. And the pain sets into your chest— hollow and painful, twisting, like an open gash where the blood is only making it worse.

The phone is in terrible condition. Looks like it went through war. The screen is partially shattered, only being held together with a screen protector and a layer of clear tape. Dust. Gun powder, probably.

I don’t know why there would be gun powder. She didn’t make her own bullets. She never filled her own cartridges

You adjust, a moment of.. calm, taking over your mind. Finally. After so long. Just calm. No nagging. No words echoing. Just quiet in your head.

Why would she take her phone into active areas? Can’t you easily track a phone?

You watch the phone, opening it again, the settings set for most tracking permissions.

That’s a stupid decision. A deadly one, really.

You place the phone down. The screen lights up.

I.D.- CAV.

#valeria garza x reader #valeria cod #angst #valeria mw2 #valeria x reader #valeria garza x fem!reader #valeria garza #valeria call of duty #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod #these have been my vent fics #and yes CAV is colonel alejandro vargas #tolerate it.

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plaguechyld · 1 year

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ok so i read ur “gently screwing kagaya to sleep” drab and now i’m obsessed with sub!kagaya🤭 can you write rough sex with him? like reader screws him so hard that he screams, hollers, and cries so loud that anyone passing his house could hear him? (and he loves how you don’t take pity on his frail body)

Sub!Kagaya x Dom!Reader

Contains: Rough sex, GN reader, Praising (Kagaya receiving), Dacryphilia, Overstim, Lots of thigh biting, Begging, Kagaya's whimpers, Voice kink, Reader implied to have a dick at the end

Synopsis: Kagaya being fucked as hard as he can take by his partner, you.

Extra: I'm obsessed with sub Kagaya too, like he's just so perfectly written to be a sub or a bottom. (Or both). Honestly he's my second fav character to write for. (Number one goes to Muzan.) Also I'm sorry that I haven't posted an actual fic recently, I've been having bad writers block.

Double Extra: Sub blogs, we need to band together to give Kagaya and Muzan more content where they don't dom. There's never enough sub content for either of them. 😞

Kagaya is laying on the futon, his legs spread wide open for you already. He had taken the liberty of lubing up his own hole as he was impatient tonight, though he would never admit such a thing. His blind eyes "look" up at you and even though he's lost sight in them, there is an unmistakable sense of need within the misty purple hues.

"Y/n... may I request something different tonight, please?" He asks in a quiet and rather shy tone. His cheeks are flushed with embarrassment and arousal as he awaits your response to his question. His chest rises and falls faster than normal as adrenaline pumps through his body from his situation.

"Yes of course, my dear. What is it?" You ask him in a gentle tone, your hands finding his chest. You take his sensitive nipples between your fingers and give them a few delicate squeezes. The sensation caused Kagaya's breath to hitch before he let out a small whimper, his voice gone for a few moments as you repeat the action.

"I want you to be rough with me, please." He requested in a slightly higher pitched tone than normal. He was grateful for his lack of sight at the moment because he knew that if he caught your gaze he would be unable to take the embarrassment that it would entail. He shifts his hips up when one of your hands trails down to his stomach. You slowly rub it as you pretend to contemplate his request, making him intentionally more aroused and desperate for your touch.

"Alright. I want you to say the word wisteria if it's too much for you, ok? And if you can’t talk then kick me twice." You say as you ready yourself. You move two of your fingers down to his hole but he stops you with a tug on your wrist. He looks away before speaking.

"I already prepped myself, can you just fuck me.. please?" He mumbled, his voice barely audible because of all of the emotions running through his body. You chuckle softly and kiss his forehead in reassurance. You lift his legs onto your shoulders and begin to place kisses on his inner thighs. He let out a little gasp for every single one of them. Your mind goes back to how he wanted you to be rough with him and it leads you to bite his thigh. He lets out a surprised moan at the feeling of your teeth digging into his sensitive skin. He let out more moans and whimpers as you repeated the action all over both of his thighs. At this point his cock was dripping with precum and he needed you badly. His hands squeezed the blankets below him as his body was flooded with the slightly painful stimulation. Before he can say a word about how badly he needs you, his legs are being lowered and his hole is being pushed against.

You thrust your hips forward, entering him halfway and making him let out a moan-ish scream. He clenches around you tightly, resulting in you letting out your own moan. Your hands find his thighs and slowly pet them while waiting for him to adjust to your size. He wraps his legs around your waist and his hands find their way to your back. He let out another loud and deep moan as you thrusted the rest of the way into him, bottoming him out fully. His nails dig into your back as he feels his mind slip away for a few moments from the pleasure you're giving him. He let out a loud gasp that soon turned into a moan when you start thrusting into him at a faster and harder pace than you've ever used before. Soon his voice raises in pitch and he's letting out whines, mewls and whimpers as you fuck him into the bed.

"O-Oh god! Too deep, mm~ please!" Kagaya cries to you, tears running down his cheeks as you bully his sensitive body perfectly. His legs are trembling and he lets out screams of pleasure as you continue to make love to him so roughly. You press a kiss to his lips, it's a gentle action and a big contrast from how you're treating his body. He kisses you deeply without thought, his mind already too fuzzy to really tell what was going on. He can feel himself growing closer to his orgasm and his moans grow into pleasure filled hollering. His cries eventually turn into sobs as his cheeks get even wetter with tears. His blind eyes roll up in his head as you thrust into his prostate over and over again, your hands at his waist so he can't attempt to struggle away from you, not that he ever would. His cries are easily overheard by the servants whom are tending to the estate but he doesn't care, all he cares about is getting more and more from your body. He loves it that you're not treating him like glass this time and he can no longer feel guilty for pushing you to do this. It just feels too good.

You let out your own moans, though they are overshadowed by Kagaya's loud shrieks of enjoyment and desperation. Your hand makes it's way down to his dick and you begin jerking him off quickly as you continuously thrust into him. He arches his back and lets out an even louder moan at the feeling of your hand around his cock. He let out a particularly loud moan before cumming, white spraying out of his cock and painting both of your stomachs white. He pants heavily and lets out a little whimper when he feels you pulling out of him. But then, he moans loudly when you resume your brutal pace. His body soon feels the sting of overstimulation from your brutal but loving actions.

"P-please! I just came! I can't take it!~" He complains in a whiny tone, though you quickly shut him up by kissing his lips aggressively. Despite himself, he finds that his cock is getting hard again. His legs continue to shake as he clings onto you for dear life. He buries his head into your neck as he moans louder and louder. Your hands go back to holding his waist as his back arches even more. There is no doubt that you've woken up the entire estate by now but that fact only serves to amuse you. You feel pride that you've been able to please your husband so much. Kagaya let out another pitiful scream, his voice beginning to grow hoarse from overuse. You can feel your own orgasm approaching and the way that your partner is squeezing around you only speeds up the process.

"Give me one more, darling." You whisper into his ear before he lets out wail at the overwhelming feeling of you rutting into him deep and hard. Still, he doesn't stop moving his hips in rhythm with your pace. He nods his head quickly as he moans over and over again, your name becoming similar to a mantra for him. Soon, he screamed your name loudly as he came again, more white staining your bodies. You came with him, your own cum filling him up and making him mewl from the sensation. You fuck him through his orgasm, making sure to milk every drop from him.

Slowly, you pull out of his twitching body and retrieve a wash cloth. You get up from the bed and wet the fabric with slightly warm water before cleaning Kagaya as best you can. After you clean the both of your bodies, you lay next to him and bring him to your chest. You rub his back slowly while murmuring sweet nothings to him as he slips away from consciousness. Soon, his little snores is all that can be heard from the once loud room. You follow suit, falling asleep mere minutes after him.

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the-sweet-madame · 7 months

Text

ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘʟᴇꜱꜱ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ (𝘟𝘪𝘢𝘰 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳)

(Let me defend myself by saying this is one of my earlier fics that I forgot about 🧍so it's really bad lmao)

Warnings: None.

Summary: You couldn't sleep, so you call for Xiao.

Female reader! Happy reading :)

[Y/N] stared at the ceiling, counting all the cracks there was before losing count and starting again. How long has it been? Hours? A light groan erupted from her lips as she tossed and turned. She thought maybe she could bore herself to sleep but no! The world hated her, as always. She found herself huffing in annoyance, perhaps was it the lack of warmth or comfortableness? Or was it both?

Or did the Archons feel like making everything harder for her? Sleep was the only escape from such troubles.

She gazed back into the darkness, the darkness reminding her of a certain male. Xiao. His eyes displayed no emotions, only darkness that rivalled the night sky. [Y/N] softly smiled at the mental image of him, he was truly a view to behold. His rich amber orbs glimmered with such horror, hiding away the deepest secrets of the world. His skin fair and pale like snow, pillowy to the touch. His green frosted tips always danced with the breeze alongside with his mask, softer than wool and silkier than Eri Silk, it made her envious.

"If you awake to a knife at your throat. If monsters dig their claws into you. If death comes knocking at your door, call out my name, Adeptus Xiao. And I will be there when you call," He spoke with his usual cold tone, his gaze piercing a hole into her skull before he hid away his face with his mask, disappearing into thin air, leaving the (H/C)-haired girl speechless.

She chuckled at the memory. That was probably the first time he spoke more than one sentence to her. She found it funny when he waited for her to abandon him, who the hell said she was going to leave a precious find like him? Only such fools would. And when he finally realised that. He begun to warm up to her to the point where he shared his Almond Tofu with her.

"Xiao," She whispered to the darkness.

With a gust of air, the adeptus stood in front of her, spear in hand, ready to fight off any monster. His eyes widened when all he saw was the female resting on her bed. Of course, he was relieved that no harm overcame her, but it irked him that she called him for no reason.

"There is no danger, why have you called for me?" The said male glared at her through his mask, giving [Y/N] shivers even though she couldn't see him.

"I couldn't sleep," She replied, snuggling deeper into the covers.

His sigh was laced with annoyance, "Why are you mortals so bothersome?"

He would admit that she was quite the bold one, she was truly extraordinary for a mere mortal. Her presence was overwhelming, not like his, fearsome and full of hatred. It was more of a peaceful one. With a mix of excitement, which explained her bubbliness.

"Awh, do you not love me?" Her tone mocked sorrow as she stifled a chuckle.

The sound of light footsteps approached her, leaving her question unanswered as he set his polearm against the wall and his mask on her bedside table.

"Move over."

His demand left the female shocked, he never did anything like this, but she wasn't complaining. After all, she wanted this anyways. She shuffled under the covers, lifting up the heap blankets for him to come in. The mattress dipped next to her as the adeptus laid next to her, his face inches away from hers. His hair sprawled over her pillow as her gaze trailed down to his lips. The corners of his lips barely tugged upwards; they were sternly pulled into a thin line all the time.

His arms slithered around her waist, pulling her into his chest, "Stupid mortal, always messing with my head," He mumbled softly as he watched her eyelids hide away her (e/c) hues. Seeing her so peaceful gave him a sense of warmth somehow. He raised his hand to ghostly caress her cheek, his touch could be compared to a feathers'.

"Go to sleep, I will be here."

[y/n] smiled, feeling the heat rush to her cheeks at his words and the affection given from him, she knew she was the only one he trusted enough for him to do so. And she was grateful for it.

"Goodnight, Xiao," She whispered, falling into a peaceful slumber.

#genshin #genshin impact #mihoyo #fluff #hoyoverse #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #xiao #alatus #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #xiao genshin impact #i love him

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toutvatoujoursbien · 2 months

Text

A (relatively new-ish) fan’s perspective on Luke Newton

(I wrote my very first Tumblr post last month and now I think I’ve chosen the path of essayist/suffering. I’ve also been writing this on and off for four weeks because it seems like every other day, something new pops up or the fandom has a meltdown of some kind. I’m not even sure if it’s worth posting, but I think, like my first one, I needed to get this out of my system in order to TRY and return to being a normal person - which is still unlikely because Lukola has me in a chokehold. NOTE: I finished the majority of this on July 19, before all the weird-ass stuff happened over the weekend, and haven’t had the chance to post until now. Anyway, this is going to be long, full of ramblings that are hopefully organized in a cohesive manner, and all opinions and observations are my own. I have a lot of thoughts and feelings, okay?)

I’ve really struggled to understand why the whole Bridgerton S3 and Luke Newton PR stunt has embedded itself into my brain the way it has. Like, how could the actions of someone I don’t know still be lingering in my thoughts even now, weeks later? After my first post, I realized that there was more to the entire LN situation than I was previously unaware of - so I started digging. None of this information is hidden or secret, it was publicly available and therefore the fans picked up on it quickly. But I, personally, DID NOT KNOW ANY OF IT, going into S3, and I think that’s why everything has hit me like a ton of bricks. So I thought, surely I’m not the only new(ish) fan who has suffered from this emotional and mental whiplash?

I really, really, really loved Luke’s portrayal of Colin and I’ve thoroughly enjoyed watching all the interviews and behind-the-scenes from S3. I would also love to continue to support him as he builds his acting career. However, I didn’t have a full picture, which unfortunately includes a history of making - what I think are - poor and questionable decisions in his personal life that he also allowed to bleed into his professional one. And that’s how I find myself struggling with the dichotomy of everything I’ve seen him do during Bridgerton promo vs. lots of other actions he’s taken. So let’s talk about it, okay? (Importantly, I reserve the right to update my current opinions as more information comes to light.)

I want it to be clear that I am in no way hating on Luke. Part of my struggle with writing this post has been because I don’t want this to be misconstrued as more hate being thrown his way. That is not my intention, at all. Seeing “fans” over the past few weeks absolutely rip into him on social media has been heartbreaking and deeply unsettling. This type of behavior is ugly and nasty and no one should be subjected to it. Full stop. As others have said: it’s okay to have thoughts and criticisms (criticism ≠ hate), but please keep it to the appropriate corners of the Internet. I think you can admire/support a famous person, but you should also be able to call them out on their conduct, particularly the stuff that happens in public. Blind love/following and putting people on pedestals is never going to allow any room for reflection and/or growth. I think there is a LOT of nuance in the whole discussion around him, his past actions, his handling of things now, and what’s in store for the future.

Okay, deep breaths & continue after the cut (because this got… wordy).

Some brief background on how I got here: As noted previously, I’ve been a longtime fan of both Polin and Bridgerton, first with the book series and then with the tv show. But, for whatever reason, I never even thought about jumping into the fandom until earlier this year, in anticipation of Season 3. I will say that I have been delighted with Nicola and Luke and their work as Polin from the start, but with the nature of the show being what it is, I just didn’t pay as much attention until it was their turn to lead. I watched some behind the scenes and promos occasionally, but not consistently. It wasn’t until around the February/Valentine’s event that I started to take notice and then I fell down the rabbit hole in April (literally, figuratively, and spiritually 😅). I say all this to illustrate that up until the spring, I was part of the General Audience, though admittedly with a bias towards viewing Bridgerton favorably. Another factor is that I got most of my fandom content from Twitter (again, I’m never going to call it X), with the occasional peek into Instagram and Tumblr. Yes, Twitter is a hellscape. But I am also lazy and only have so much time to scroll online. And since everything seems to get cross-posted everywhere, it was easiest for me to keep mostly to one social media site to consume all my Bridgerton content. But I point this out because I now see this as an error on my part. Why? Because I wasn’t getting a well-rounded picture of the situation around L, N and S3. Remember my own self-admitted social media bubble? Sigh. The fast pace of tweets meant I could blink-and-miss something on Twitter, unless it trended (or really riled the fans up). It’s a breeding ground for the hyperbolic and for discourse, in general. Twitter also seems to be divided into the Luke Haters (let’s be real, most of their “reasoning” is just uncalled for, vile hate) and the Luke Apologists (who have the tendency to exhibit, imo, some gross-excuse-all-his-behaviors-he-never-does-anything-wrong rhetoric). So it wasn’t until I started noticing chatter of Luke’s past actions that it prompted me to start looking deeper into what others have witnessed and noted online, particularly on this platform. Again, it wasn’t like I was trying to find some sort of hush-hush subject matter. Instead, I rather got the impression that those established in the fandom had a sort of unspoken agreement to keep these discussions to DMs and group chats - mostly as to not detract from Polin’s upcoming season. (But seriously, great of y’all to keep it locked down, however it would have really helped a girl out all the times I was like, “why is everyone so mad?” 🤣) And a lot of things started clicking into place once I knew more of the details. So I’ve put together a list of high-level topics/points that I didn’t know before, being relatively new to the fandom. Perhaps this can help other fans who are trying to wrap their heads around the various discussions occurring now and may feel clueless.

One more thing, HUGE shout-out to @jack4132cf for giving me a concise timeline of… well, everything I apparently missed last year+ when I wasn’t part of the fandom 😆🙌🏼 They’ve really helped me fill in the blanks (of which I had many)! Also, darcytaylor has a great 3-part deep dive, and I’ve read (and backtracked) through most of herejusttosufferalong and allsortsofthingsmpov ’s blogs, among others. They’ve provided a place for differing opinions and perspectives to be voiced in a respectful manner (unless you’re a troll, in which any clap-back is justified). I may not agree with everyone’s take, but I firmly believe that hearing views from others has helped shape my own thought process.

Let’s begin, shall we?

The Hot Fuck Boy Summer™️ (which I’m trademarking as HFBS)

Bridgerton S3 wrapped up filming in March 2023 and then Luke starred in the play The Shape of Things, which was in production from around May-July 2023. At some point prior to all this, Luke and his previous gf broke up - this is reported on by several media outlets in March, as well as “news” that he joined the dating app Raya. This is where, I think, his questionable behavior starts to raise eyebrows. It’s not the fact that he’s dating - I feel like fans gave him a pass since he just ended a long-term relationship (Enter the mentality some had of “let him have his hot boy summer!”). No, I think the issue is that he was not at all private or discreet about it.

Remember when I said I think he let choices in his personal life bleed over into his professional one? Yeah, there were multiple glaring examples happening in real time last year, and the fandom took notice. He started publicly following certain users on IG and liking their posts, (unfortunately) many of whom were young, female models and dancers, under the age of 23. He (foolishly) followed his private account on his public profile, and then tried to backpedal. He engaged with some online flirtations that didn’t sit well with the fans (cough, E. Bear, cough), and then tried to backpedal. Mind you, all of this occurred and at some point later on, it’s then also decided that he’s going to move (aka, clean up) his social media presence to be more work-related. My point is:

Luke was digitally messy and left a trail (several, really).

In conjunction with the HFBS, we also have:

& That Friend Group

Ah yes, the “boys.” Look, clearly I don’t know his friend group in real life, so all I can speak on is the image they give off based on their public social media accounts. And I, personally, am very unimpressed with what they’ve chosen to share with the world. My general perception is that L’s group of friends love to have a good time and show it off; seem to have an large amount of influence over him, particularly R; and can been seen as reaping the benefits of his success. He has discussed before how he likes to be generous with his friend group. During HFBS, they posted all about their vacations, on public accounts, and tagged Luke in them. They posted thirst trap photos and tagged Luke in them. They took quite a few boat trips and, once again, tagged Luke in them. Are we sensing a pattern here?

His friend group was also digitally messy and left trails.

I am in no way saying his friends aren’t allowed to post whatever they want on their accounts. It’s totally within their rights to have a good time and capture it on their pages, and I completely understand the desire to only show the “memorable” and “fun” stuff on social media. I just think it was short-sighted to NOT consider that Luke’s fans would be interested in seeing what he was up to with his friends - and you know that people will always, always dig around on the Internet. Maybe this was some kind of fun game to them? Maybe they enjoyed the attention? Maybe they didn’t think it was that big a deal? Who knows? But I think, in hindsight, it would have been safer and smarter to not have all this documented and out in the open, imo.

My other understanding is that around the time the break up was “officially announced,” Luke’s ex began dating someone who was 22/23 at the time. His childhood friend R also ended a relationship last year and began dating a young woman around 22/23. Do I think R may have encouraged Luke in a certain direction dating-wise, especially considering that A was/is a friend of S, R’s new gf? Do I wonder if this was all to get back at J for starting a relationship with a new young thing, too? It seems likely, but of course this is all conjecture on my part. This is giving “high school drama” vibes, being played out in public, which is very, very unfortunate.

However, Luke was ultimately the person who did not ask his friends to refrain from posting him on social media, as well as publicly following young women on socials and not being very discreet about his dating life, which is what raises my eyebrows…

The Age Gap Thing

Let’s just address this here and now. Remember, these are my opinions, each individual is entitled to their own, and I hope everyone takes a moment to really think and evaluate how they feel about the matter! I’m going to be very transparent and upfront about this:

I do not like the age gap between L and many of the young women he was showing interest in last year.

I’m viewing this from the lens of someone who is an elder Millennial and female. For me, personally, my dislike has more to do with: 1) A's age when they started dating/the age she is now (22/23); but more specifically 2) the power dynamics at play.

I don’t have a problem with age gaps overall, because I believe that love can find us at many stages in life. However, I’m also of the opinion that a person 30+ should not be dating a someone in their early 20s. I’m not going to use the whole “the brain hasn’t been fully developed” argument, though valid. My issue has more to do with where an individual is in terms of life experience, emotional and overall maturity, and (this ties in with #2) financial stability within age gaps. In general, I find, say, a 45-year-old dating a 37-year-old to be on more even footing, which becomes even more so as you age. But a 22-year-old, presumably fresh out of college/university and about to embark on their next steps into adulthood, is just not in a position to date someone in their 30s. To me, your early 20s are the time for you to gain all the things I mentioned above (life experience, maturity, financial stability that is independently your own) as well as make plenty of mistakes. And that’s not to say any of that stops once you hit 30, or beyond! I know I’m constantly evolving and learning more about myself and my place in the world as each year passes.

My deeper discomfort comes from the inherent power dynamics and power imbalance between L/A. Of course L has lot more of the power in terms of money, resources and status; they are not equal partners. This article here (https://jill.substack.com/p/the-problem-with-men-who-date-much) illustrates these points much better than I can; I think it’s worth the read.

Is he allowed to date whomever he so chooses? Yes. Are people allowed to feel the ick with the current choice/choices he made last year? Also yes. Does it entitle anyone to post nasty comments on his social media? Absolutely not. I may not personally like his choice, but it’s ultimately his to make.

NOTE: I also want to address right here that, to me, his behavior isn’t “predatory” or whatever twisted narrative some folks are trying to push. Honestly, I think he��s gone the complete opposite direction from the type of women his ex and N are because it might be less complex/more simple both in terms of emotions and permanence. But obviously, pure speculation on my part.

Antagonistic A

At some point during HFBS, L meets A and she becomes a part of That Friend Group. During Fall 2023, there are many trips to Soho Farmhouse and other posts made to R/S/A’s social media accounts. A in particular made quite a few posts that could be interpreted as her wanting to show she was with L, but never actually including him fully (these are the arms/legs photos that fans talk about and side-eye). Some of these types of posts have since been conveniently deleted. L and That Friend Group celebrate NYE24 at Soho Farmhouse, where everyone but him share photos and videos. On Jan 2, a photo of L and A kissing was circulated on social media - they got caught in the video of the band playing. Also at the beginning of this year, A - for whatever fucking reason - started tagging along on various work trips and had a tendency to post TikTok’s from various hotel bathrooms. Again, insinuating that she’s with L but not outright showing it.

The “InStyle stunt” - end of March/early April, there is a trip to Los Angeles which A posted stories and photos on IG. It’s later revealed that L was going to be featured in InStyle Magazine’s “This Guy” series, which included an interview, video and photoshoot, as well as an IG post that consisted of several polaroid, “boyfriend-style” pictures. The Instyle polariods were released three weeks after A’s posts, and let’s just say that A’s are a little too on the nose to be coincidence (also cue more hand/leg reveals…) Please note, again, that some of these photos on A’s account have been conveniently deleted/removed.

These are only a few examples of how… messy this all is and how it can be viewed as her antagonizing the fans. There is a lot of back and forth debate between “just leave her alone, she’s allowed to post what she wants” against “she’s clearly using social media to taunt the fandom/get attention/chase clout/etc.” When I finally learned about all the social media games being played, I just felt really unsettled for a few reasons.

Luke has stated that he wishes to keep his private life more private (see: social media clean-up from last fall). But, and this is my big issue here, A and That Friend Group don’t seem to WANT to be private. So to me, that can push people to question how much does he know what’s actually going on (he admits to not being online much) and, more importantly, how complicit is he with all of their postings? I personally feel like the narrative being pushed by his friends is very self-serving, and doesn’t seem like it’s in L’s best interest or protecting his privacy. Because I think we all know and understand that if a celebrity wants to keep certain things private, they have the money and resources to do so - some good examples that come to mind are Ryan Gosling and Eva Mendes, Benedict Cumberbatch, Dolly Parton, and our girl Nicola herself.

A has made it a pattern to post shortly after either Nicola or the main Bridgerton account posts something, usually on IG or TT; there is timely evidence of this. So much so that the fandom jokes about how obsessed she must be with N. And these posts don’t really have much substance - other than to show off her body or her latest vacation. It just all comes off as very insecure and seeking attention, whether it’s from L or from the public in general. Again, why do we feel the need to play social media games? But this does not mean she deserves hateful comments either. I personally don’t care for her or her actions, but as an older female, I also can’t help but be saddened by the fact that she’s making many, many poor choices in a very public forum. I can’t help but wonder if she’s going to have regrets later on when/if she reflects back on this time.

The PR Stunt/Papgate

This has been dissected by the fandom to death and there are a plethora of theories on who exactly was responsible for calling the paparazzi, who knew what was actually going to happen, WHY did this occur, and how much did this impact the season and the press tour overall. It’s enough to make anyone’s head spin - hell, I’ve changed my opinion at least a dozen times over the past several weeks. Regardless, the thing that aggravates me the most about the whole thing is the absolutely terrible and suspicious timing of it. As stated in my previous post: Here’s my point: I think what should have been a moment of triumph and a joyous occasion for Nic, Luke, and Bridgerton season 3, was sadly overshadowed by the aforementioned shitstorm. And that’s a damn shame. Too many cast and crew put in a lot of time, effort, and blood sweat and tears, to pull this all together.

I’m still personally stuck on a few things: 1) How did paps know when L was leaving the official after party? Additionally, how did they know which hotel L was going to for his after-after party? Because that’s where we got the super awkward handhold attempt photos. 2) Did L know about the first location but not the second one - which ties into was this an attempt by his PR team to distance himself from Bridgerton and Nicola now that promo was almost done? Because the way he looks from location 1 to 2 is vastly different. 3) If paps were there, why was literally NO ONE else from the cast also photographed??? 4) Why has DM double (and tripled) down over the past few weeks on how she got those exclusive photos in the first place? And 5) Who ultimately has benefited the most from this whole PR stunt 🤔??? (Because I sure as hell don’t think it’s Luke…)

The Cinnamon Roll vs The Bad Boy

Luke has stated in several interviews that he’s interested in going for edgier, darker roles. I think that’s great that he wants to try something new and diversify; I would love to see him in whichever type of role interests him! However, he’s also spent 4-5 years playing Colin, a character that is quirky, kind and lovable (much more so on the show, thanks to Luke’s portrayal) and known for being the ultimate “wife guy” amongst the fandom. It’s also been mentioned time and time again that Luke is most like his character (by Luke himself and his Bridgerton cast mates). Nic speaks so highly of him, and the way he presented himself during the 6 months of press was really wonderful; I think he has a deep understanding and love for his role, and he was a genuinely supportive partner to his co-lead during filming. Think golden retriever energy - which is NOT a bad thing, at all!

If there is any truth to the PR stunt being organized by his team (and I’m in no way saying this is fact) as a way to differentiate/disassociate him from Bridgerton/Nicola, then I think this was a miscalculation on their part. We know that Luke did a lot of editorial photoshoots during the promo tour; and looking at the pictures now, it seems like there was definitely a narrative/aesthetic that was trying to be pushed of a more intense, moody and provocative L. Which is also fine! I don’t think he must be one personality or the other; humans are multi-faceted and complex, it’s what makes us so interesting.

The (Ongoing) Fallout

This is really difficult to write about because, honestly, I feel like we’re still witnessing it happening in real time, bit by agonizing bit. What we do know is that at this moment, he hasn’t announced any new projects other than returning for Bridgerton Season 4. He hasn’t announced any major brand deals and we don’t know what his next steps are career-wise. Which is completely baffling to me because I would think he and his team would want to capitalize on the momentum of a very successful season of a Netflix/Shondaland production. However, this is his life and his job, so until he comes forward with literally anything to say (a statement, an announcement, hell, he hasn’t even publicly claimed to have a gf FFS), then everything else is just noise and speculation. As much as I hope he’s not taking another HFBS, I also wouldn’t blame him for wanting to step away from the spotlight. He’s been unfairly dragged and smeared since the Part 2 premiere. Do I think he and his team/friend group have made a some missteps along the way? Yes, but again, no one deserves the nasty comments and vitriol that has been flung his way.

So How Do We Move Forward?

I keep thinking back to the adage: When someone shows you who they are, believe them.*

And isn’t this the root of my (and perhaps others’) struggle? Because it’s been really difficult to reconcile someone Nicola calls “a true gentleman, the kindest friend, a dream costar” with a man who seemingly (?) goes along with pap walks, Instagram subterfuge, and appears to be distancing himself from the very project and costars that helped propel him into the leading man spotlight. For me personally, I go back to my point that people are multi-faceted and deeply complex. I think Luke can be all of those things; I also think he might be struggling right now to figure out who he is and what he wants next after being scrutinized so heavily.

Also from my first post: We have to remember, though, that what we’re shown is only a fraction of their true selves, carefully and deliberately curated to accommodate their status as actors/celebrities/those in the public eye.

I choose to believe that we saw glimpses of the real Luke throughout the press tour. (ColinBridgey is a rockstar and compiled everything into a master list for our enjoyment!) I choose to believe Nicola knows Luke a hell of a lot better than almost everyone else yapping in this conversation. I choose to believe that his anxiety and quietness could be perceived as standoffish, and unfortunately he wasn’t able to shine as much as Nicola during the press tour, but they are a team and have each other’s backs - there is genuine love there, after all. I choose to believe that social media posting and likes are not indicative of the actual friendship and relationship between L and N. I would love to see him post more, or be more vocal in publicly thanking Bridgerton and Nicola - however, I realize those are expectations I have/desire and he does not owe me anything.

I choose to believe that despite the mistakes and missteps, he’s a decent human being who deserves to live his life on his own terms and at his own speed. I really, really hope that whenever he announces his next project, I can be joyful and supportive. There’s a lot of talk about giving him grace, which I agree with. I cannot imagine, nor do I desire to be in the public eye this way; it’s easy for us and others to feel entitled to say things behind our screens and keyboards, but these are real, actual people with lives and feelings.

I do think that it is for the best interest of the fandom to try and ignore A and That Friend Group (and DM) as much as possible. And I will be the first to admit that it is really fucking hard to do so. Like I’ve said before, I try to ignore toxicity and hate, but I am also human and therefore imperfect and capable of pettiness. There is just something about this situation (probably how much Lukola captivated me and how much disdain I have for his friend group) that makes me watch everything play out like it’s a train on fire, careening towards an unfinished bridge, over a ravine. Sometimes I feel bad because I wonder if I’m adding to the entire spectacle with my continued interest. But then I remember that I specifically keep it to this corner of the internet, and I’ve found a nice little community where we can gossip and discuss and dissect it all.

If you’ve made it to the end, thank you. This is just everything I’ve been ruminating over the past month, put into word vomit form. I would looove to hear your thoughts and takes on everything/anything discussed above. Maybe you have a different perspective or noticed something that I missed.

*Fun fact: In my research, I learned that this saying comes from Maya Angelou’s “A Song Flung Up to Heaven” and is actually "Believe people when they tell you who they are. They know themselves better than you.” The more well-known version comes out of an Oprah Winfrey interview with Angelou in 1997, where they were discussing life lessons. Okay, I’ll stop being a nerd now.

#luke newton #nicola coughlan #lukola #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton #luke newton get your shit together #but also please take care of your mental health #all these thoughts are ever evolving #because every day some new piece of drama occurs #like I've said before #strap in this is gonna be a roller coaster #wheeeeeee 🎢

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dovveri · 4 months

Text

could you love me while i hate myself?

synopsis: y/n, nayeon, momo, and sana are in a polyamorous relationship. momo walks in on y/n self-harming for the first time in 7 months. they all try and talk and work through this together.

warnings: we got depression, suicidal ideation, self-harm (cutting), blood, sexual references, cursing - also this is poly!namosa if ur not into that but i love getting comfort from everyone i love so

w/c: 6.9k

a/n: sooo i wrote this in a day bcs im utilising my #depression as inspiration and lwk we love writing as a coping mechanism - i’m so fine tho i just need my meds to start working again LMAO and they will vvvv soon trust - but in the meantime i can pump out the sad stuff hehe! lwk forgot abt boo and dobby until like halfway thru writing this IM SO SORRY #fakefan and i wasn't bothered to write them back in so they js don't exist here oops!

⸸

fuck. fuck fuck fuck. the thoughts were coming. you wake up hazily, dream forgotten, arms wrapped around nayeon, legs entangled with the three people you loved most in the world. you don't deserve them. shut up!

you shut your eyes, trying to will away the thoughts. they were always there, always in the back of your head, always nagging, telling you that you didn't deserve to live, that you were a worthless piece of flesh born only to cause others suffering, or born with no purpose at all. there's no point to it all. just die. they'd be better off without you. they'd be happier without you.

you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes. it was so loud. you needed them to be quiet. to return to the depths of your mind. you curl in closer to nayeon, trying to breathe in the scent of her to distract you, feeling sana's breath on your hand, listening to momo's soft snores, they were the only thing grounding you. they pity you. that's why they've stuck around for so long. they know if they left you you'd break. they don't love you. it's pity. they'd be happier together. just the three of them. they didn't need you. you needed them. you were a burden to them. you need to leave so they can be happy. you want the best for them don't you? SHUT UP.

you couldn't take it anymore, you slowly unwrap yourself from your girlfriends. slipping your arms from around nayeon's waist and pulling your legs away from the mess of limbs. you look back at them, sleeping peacefully, watch their chests rise up and down with each breath, it's bittersweet. you had so much love for them. you turn around again and slip out the door, closing it softly behind you.

you pad softly towards the bathroom, entering it quietly and sighing, looking at yourself in the mirror. dark circles under red eyes, messy hair, disgusting. look at you. how could anyone love you? the thoughts were louder in the bathroom. almost echoing off crisp white walls. your grip on the sink tightens, you tear your gaze away from the mirror, letting your tears fall into the sink silently. why did i have be born like this? born like this? honey you're not different. everyone else is able to cope fine with trauma, with all the shit that happens in the world. you're just weak. weak, crying little bitch who can't deal with a couple sad emotions. don't think you're special. you're not. why can't i feel normal? you're not normal. you never will be. you'll always be that weird kid on the playground that no one wants to play with. grow up and get used to it already. why won't you leave me alone? i can't leave you alone. i am you. you are me. we're stuck together.

your head's splitting, you don't even realise you're crouched in on yourself now. hands gripping your head, nails digging into your scalp, anything to try and stop thinking. you wish you could just go back to sleep. sleep was easy. you didn't have to think when you were asleep.

that's right. sleep. sleep forever. run away from your problems. that's all you'll ever be good at right? running away. you ran away from your parents when they found out you were dating not one, not two, but three girls! whore! you left your brother and sister with them. they probably got the brunt of their anger. or maybe not. maybe they hate you too for being a fucking disappointment. it doesn't matter. they don't care about you. you left them. now leave your girlfriends. it'll be easier. leave. leave. run. do it.

your lip is trapped between your teeth. you're biting down so hard it draws blood. you're rocking yourself on the floor of the bathroom. pathetic. all you do is cry. grow up already. you can't take it. it was too much. you needed- needed-

you're reaching for the loose tile you know is second from the towel rack, opening it and finding your stash of emergency goods. you had meant to throw it away you just kept avoiding it and now... well you needed it now.

you take out a scalpel, go into the old routine of cleaning it down with an alcohol wipe, the motions that are familiar to you helping you drown out the thoughts already. they're still there though. they were always there. you'd be lonely without us wouldn't you? you actually enjoy being mentally ill don't you? take some sort of sick pleasure in it? is it comforting? it's easy to fall back into old habits isn't it?

once it's clean, you can see clearly again. you remove your pants, spreading your legs and look down at the scars that decorate the insides of your thighs. you take a breath, clearing your head as best you can, and bring the tip of the scalpel to start a new line.

the immediate relief when the blade enters your skin and you watch the scarlet liquid pour out of you is incredible. you're like an addict, drinking in the pain and using it to clear your mind. suddenly, the only sound you hear is the quiet of the bathroom and your own shallow breathing. you've never felt more at peace.

but it's only temporary. like everything is only temporary. seriously? this again? is this the best you can do to try and get rid of me? we talked about this you idiot. you're never getting rid of me. because we're the same. you just made yourself even uglier. congrats. good luck getting your girlfriends to ever touch you again after they see those.

fucking hell. you can't help it when your hands move to the start again, just under the new line you've created. you're about to push in again when you hear a gasp.

you look up in alarm, bloody scalpel in your hand, fresh cut on your thigh.

"m-momo."

"y/n- what-"

"it's not what it looks like i swear- fuck- oh my god- mo- please-" you're scrambling, trying to pull up your pants and cover yourself, dropping the scalpel onto the floor with a clang.

she's on you in seconds.

"no no sweetie it's okay i'm not- it's okay it's okay-" she's pulling you into a hug, and you start sobbing.

you're burrowing your head into her neck, sniffling and crying, she wasn't meant to find out. they were never meant to find out. now you've done it. good luck keeping them now. no way they're going to stay with you after this. better breathe her in while you can because she won't be yours in the morning.

you're squeezing her tight, crying and blabbering into her and she lets you. hushing and brushing through your hair, pressing light kisses along your forehead.

when she starts to pull away you panic, shaking your head against her, terrified she's leaving you and this is it.

"no sweetie i'm not going anywhere. i promise. we just gotta clean you up okay?"

she pulls away from you gently, opening the cabinets next to the sink to grab the first aid kit and comes down to sit next to you.

your sobs have ceded but you can't bear to look at her, staring down at the ugly scars on your legs.

"can i?" momo makes a gesture towards your legs and you shrug, moving closer to her so she can work.

she's quiet when she cleans the wound, focused.

you idiot you stupid fucking idiot. she hates you she thinks you're so gross and-

"do the others know?"

you don't trust your voice to speak so you shake your head.

"is this why you never let us touch you?"

you blush bright red, gripping the bottom of your shirt.

"you know we wouldn't have judged right?"

the tears are coming back, you feel them building up in your neck again, clogging it up, choking you.

"i'm sorry if we made you feel like we would have." momo's voice breaks then, and you look up. momo wasn't one to cry. sana tended to be the more emotional one, nayeon and momo cried too, just less often and definitely more private, momo just took a little longer to come to conclusions sometimes.

"y-you didn't." your voice is croaky when you speak up.

she sniffles a little, finishing cleaning and grabbing the bandages.

"a-are you mad?"

she sighs. "not mad. just... confused."

"i-i- i'm sorry. i'm sorry i didn't tell you guys i didn't- i thought you would think- i thought you might leave or think i'm too much or i don't know i-"

she finishes wrapping the bandage around your thighs, looking up at you then, her eyes shiny. "i could never leave you y/n. i love you. all of you. you, nayeon, and sana are my family."

you're crying again now, hands coming up to wipe at your tears. she gently helps you put your pants back on then pulls you into another hug, breathing shakily as she lets herself cry as well.

you cling onto her shirt, the confirmation that she was still here and she still loved you grounded you.

you both sit on the bathroom floor there, tightly wound around each other. you memorise the way her breathing comes in and out, focusing on the little hiccups, every single movement. it was quiet.

she pulls away from you, hands coming up to cup your cheeks, thumbs swiping along them. "do you want to talk about it?"

you shake your head.

"do you want to come back to bed then?"

you think a little, "i might sleep in the guest room tonight. i don't really... it's not that i don't want to sleep with you guys, i just-"

"is it okay if i join you in the guest room then?"

you look surprised, "why?"

"it's okay if you don't want me to. i just want to be with you if that's okay. to make sure you're safe for one, but also just because..." she sniffs, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear gently, "i love you and i want to make sure you sleep well."

the tears well up again. "of course. it's not you i just- i don't want sana and nayeon to find out like this."

momo nods, pressing a gentle kiss onto your nose, "i understand. do you want anything before bed? water? a snack?"

you smile tiredly against her, still in a sort of disbelief she was still here. "i'm okay. let's go to bed."

momo nods again, standing up and pulling you with her, but she stops again suddenly, looking down, "does it hurt?"

you wince, "not really. i mean the point is kinda for it to hurt." your eyes widen when momo frowns, "but it doesn't! not anymore i mean. i kinda got used to it." her frown deepens, "i mean no not like that! like- well yes- but-"

"it's okay y/n. i want to know these things. if you're okay with sharing them." she's sincere when she looks at you, and then she's pulling you along towards the guest room. your heart drops a little when you pass by the master bedroom, thinking of nayeon and sana sleeping peacefully inside, wrapped around each other blissfully unaware, but momo squeezes your hand and you look back towards her, following her into the guest room.

she turns on the lamp light and starts removing all the extra pillows and everything that were only really there for decoration. once she's done, she starts ushering you into bed and you laugh a little at her earnestness, "you don't have to treat me any different momo. i'm still the same person."

she frowns, climbing into bed after you, "i just found out about a massive part of your life that you've been hiding from us. you're not the same person to me. not when i've only known half of you."

you still at that, unable to look her in the eye as she fumbles around with the blanket, covering both of you and then sliding an arm over your side.

"i'm sorry." you whisper once she's turned off the light and snuggled in close to you.

she takes a breath, "you don’t have to be sorry. i'm here now. i'm sorry it took me so long. but i'm here now. and i'm not leaving."

"even if i'm not the same person to you anymore?"

she finds your eyes in the darkness, "y/n i didn't mean it like that. i fell in love with half of you. i just found out there's another half that i can also love now. you're the same person, you just have more to you than we knew. and i want to know more about that so i can be a better girlfriend for you."

"you already are a great girlfriend."

she sighs, a hand trailing down your back, drawing random shapes, you curl in closer to her.

"i wanted to throw it all away. i wanted to tell you all. i just-"

she hums, letting you think out your words, continuing to trace patterns into your back, eyes locked on yours.

"it was hard. and i didn't think i'd need to say anything because i was doing good. i hadn't done it in so long. i don't know why today i just- i lost control again."

"y'know nayeon would say just because you haven't done it in so long doesn't mean you were better. it just means you stopped thinking about it but that didn't get rid of the problem. which is why eventually the problem came back."

you smile at her, poking her cheek, "you've been hanging out too much with nayeon."

momo whines, "we're girlfriends! of course i hang out with her!"

"you're right though. i'm sorry. i stopped cutting when we all started dating. i think i got swept up in all the excitement and the love but once the novelty wore off and i grew more comfortable with being in a relationship with all of you, some of the bad thoughts started to come back."

"what sort of bad thoughts?"

"...like that i'm not good enough for you- or that the three of you would be happier without me, or that i don't want to... that i didn’t deserve to live or that it’d be better if i wasn’t- y’know… alive-"

you can see the shine in momo's eyes and feel your own start to well up again while you talk. she lets you speak though, just lays there, stroking your back softly while listening to you.

when you're finished its quiet save for the occasional sniffle from either of you.

"do you still think that? that you're not good enough for us?"

you hum contemplating whether to be honest or to try not to hurt her, you decide you’ve hurt her enough and it was time to be honest, she was still here after all, she wasn’t going to leave you, "...yeah."

she's pressing her lips gently against yours, barely there, almost as if she's asking permission, and you press against her softly back to say yes. you can taste the salt of her tears in the kiss, its short, reassuring. you break away with a tender smile.

"i can't speak for the others. but i don't think we could work if we weren't the four of us. you know that sana and i tried to date when we were younger right? and it didn't work out? because we always felt like there was something missing. but once we all got together, it feels right to love each other like this. i think it'd be the same if you left. i think it'd feel like something was missing and i wouldn't be able to stay either. i'm not saying that to pressure you into staying like a 'if you leave i leave' kinda thing. i'm just saying that you are needed in this relationship and i don't think we would be happier without you, i don't even think we'd work without you, without any one of us."

god you didn't deserve her. you loved her so much.

"and the other stuff... we don't have to talk about that now but... if you're open to it in the future, i want to help you find some outside help if that's okay? you don't have to answer me now, just think about it, because i want to help, but i don't think we can do this alone."

you nod, lips quivering while she smiles at you, noses touching.

"thank you momo."

"of course sweetie. i love you."

"i love you too. so much."

she pecks you again, then places your hand over her chest, and you can feel the calm thumps of her heart.

she closes her eyes, lips only centimetres apart, you follow her lead, focusing on the feeling of her heartbeat rather than the thoughts, letting that fill your head, and slowly, you drift back into sleep.

⸸

you wake up with a dull sting on the inside of your thighs. you curse internally when you realise that it was because you had self-harmed for the first time in months. but then you feel a familiar hand tracing lines down your back, and the smell of soft peaches and you recall that momo had found you cutting yourself. but the way she's tracing your back means she's still here and she hasn't left and that you're still okay.

momo realises you're awake, moving her hand to your hair and brushing the pieces that have fallen over your face. "hi sweetie."

"mm morning. what time is it?"

she giggles a little, "its 5pm actually. i didn't want to wake you. nayeon and sana should be back home soon."

you startle, "what?! 5pm?! where did they go? did they-"

"shh shh no it's okay. i woke up early and made everyone breakfast. when they came in they asked where you were. i told them you slept in the guest bedroom because you weren't feeling well. they wanted to see you but i told them to let you rest. i don't think you should hide this from them for much longer though y/n."

you sigh, relaxing back into her embrace, "i know. i'll tell them when they get back." you can feel the anxiety beginning to chip away at you as soon as the words leave your mouth. you'd thought about it before in the past, about how they'd react. on the worst end of the spectrum, they'd leave you, thankfully momo hasn't done that yet. and realistically you don't think nayeon and sana will either. but there was always that fear in the back of your head. it was more likely that sana would feel hurt and start crying and nayeon would get angry that you didn't trust them with the information. both of which you didn't really want to deal with because you didn't want to cause any of them any negative emotions. but if you didn't tell them, it would mean forcing momo to keep a secret for you and have her constantly go around on tip-toes while worrying over you. it wouldn't be fair and you’d essentially be self-sabotaging your own relationship.

momo breaks you out of your thoughts when she uses her hand to rap lightly against your forehead, "what's going on in there sweetie?"

you shake her off giggling and she smiles, "nothing i'm just thinking about how to tell them is all."

"do you want me to be there?"

you look up at her, her eyes are sincere and caring, you could stare into them for the rest of your life, "yes please, if that's okay with you."

momo squeezes you against her even tighter, planting a kiss on your forehead and murmuring against it, "of course it's okay with me. i'd love to be there."

you smile against her, reminded of your eternal gratefulness and love you have for her, before your stomach starts to growl and you pull away embarrassed while momo starts to laugh that adorable, contagious laugh of hers.

you whine, climbing out of bed as she toddles along behind you, still laughing when you enter the bathroom.

you pick up your toothbrush and start to brush your teeth when you notice that the bathroom's been cleaned up since last night. there's no more blood on the floor and you look briefly over at momo who's standing on that tile looking at you carefully, the hint of a laugh still on her face.

"youscdonthaftawatchmeyknow."

she giggles when some toothpaste dribbles out of your mouth, tilting her head indicating she didn't catch what you said.

you spit out the toothpaste and repeat yourself, "you don't have to watch me y'know."

"i know."

you squeeze some of your facial wash into your hand, staring at her in the mirror when she doesn't move, still looking at your reflection with a gentle smile.

you shrug, closing your eyes and beginning to wash your face. you go through all the motions of your morning routine, and when you finish up and turn around to wipe your hands on the hand towel, she's still standing there watching you.

you clear your throat, leaving the bathroom and moving towards the kitchen. you hear her footsteps padding along behind you.

she overtakes you once you reach the kitchen, going towards the fridge and pulling out a few things. you sit at the kitchen benchtop and watch her reheat a few dishes that she must have made for breakfast and lunch.

"where did nayeon and sana go?"

"to the shops. we were meant to go check out that new bakery together in the city but i figured may as well let you rest, we can go another day."

"oh crap i'm so sorry i forgot! i would've woken up i'm so sorry-"

"it's okay sweetie don't worry. they were both fine to reschedule, they were more concerned about you than missing out on the bakery."

"why didn't you go out shopping with them?"

"i wanted to stay home with you."

"i was asleep."

momo hums, taking the food out of the microwave, "i didn't mind. here." she sets a bowl of sundubu jjigae in front of you and then goes to scoop out a bowl of rice from the rice cooker as well. you spent a lot of the last 24 hours crying but you can't help the tears that well up in you again at the smell. this was one of the first dishes momo made for the four of you when you moved in together.

"do you want me to feed you?" momo's joking as she slides the bowl of rice over, but when you look up at her and she realises you're crying she quickly panics, "i mean i can! if you want!" she's frantically rummaging for a spoon and scooping out some rice and stew and holding it out to you.

you laugh, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve, adoring the way she tilts her head like a confused puppy in bewilderment, a small pout appearing on her lips.

you lean up and take the spoonful into your mouth, chewing and swallowing before leaning across to peck her on the lips. "i just love you is all you idiot."

momo blushes and you take the chance to grab the spoon from her and start eating the meal yourself.

she pouts and is about to whine when you both hear the door open, the telltale sign of keys jangling and the happy chattering of your other two favourite people in the world.

"momo! we got that ice cream y/n likes but i still don't think it's a good idea for her to eat it if she's sick!" nayeon's yelling from the door, probably taking off her shoes and you can hear a short squeal and something crash followed by laughter and you know sana has probably knocked something down or fallen over.

you raise your eyebrows at momo who shrugs and grins sheepishly, grabbing nayeon and sana's mugs and filling them with water.

when they come into the kitchen all loud and giggles its a sight for sore eyes. nayeon's kissing momo hello and setting the bags of shopping they have down. sana rounds the corner with more bags and that infectious smile. you loved all of them so much.

nayeon spots you first, frowning and walking over to you immediately, placing the back of her hand on your forehead. "hey baby, sorry to hear you weren't feeling well last night. are you feeling better now?"

you blush, nodding your head, your mouth still full of food.

sana's next to bound over to you once she's kissed momo in greeting as well, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head, "we missed you today. i got you this top i think would be really cute on you though! and momoring we also got you one of those draw-on shirts but we thought we could turn it into a date or something so we have four!" she's rummaging through her bags, producing items of clothing and talking about each one with her endless energy.

you swallow your food and look up at nayeon who has a fond smile on her face while watching sana, when she notices you looking at her she smiles and leans down to brush her lips against yours.

"wait... you're not sick with anything contagious are you...?"

"what if i was?"

she's squealing, running behind the counter before momo laughs and hands her the mug of water she filled and urging her to drink it. she also passes sana her mug who kisses her again in thanks.

you hum in content, happy to be around the people you loved most. its almost as if... they'll leave you. you don't deserve them. this is all temporary. don't get comfortable. you clench your spoon a little tighter, trying to will away the thoughts as you shove another spoonful into your mouth, focusing on the taste and the love behind the person who made it for you.

"-and i almost fell into the fountain and she just stood there and laughed at me!"

look at them enjoying themselves. you’re the odd one out. the one who’s about to break everyone’s happy mood.

you can make out nayeon's cackle, "in my defense! it was pretty funny! you had all your bags and everything and you threw your phone at that little boy!"

"wait sana you did what?"

you should just leave. leave them. look how happy they are without you. all you bring is sadness and anger. you can’t give them anything they’d want. what could you offer them?

"momoringg!! don't join her in this! he pushed me!"

"yeah because you were trying to steal his girlfriend!"

useless. hopeless. there’s nothing you can do. you can’t get anything right. not your job, not your friends, they’ll realise soon enough you know? that they’re better than you. that they’re too good for you. then it’ll be them leaving you. do it first before they realise that and break your heart.

"i was not!"

"that definitely sounds like you actually."

"y/n! you're on my side right?"

you look up in a daze, confused at what the context of the conversation was. "sorry?"

momo's frowning, trying to meet your eyes but you avoid her, looking at sana who's pouting, "were you listening? are you okay y/n?"

"y-yeah sorry i was just- just thinking about something. can you tell me the story again?"

suddenly sana's all in your space, basically climbing into your lap and cupping your cheeks with her hands, squinting at you. "what were you thinking about?"

you blush immediately, "oh y-y'know, just work."

"work's more important than me?"

"no sana i didn't mean it like that i'm sorry. of course work isn’t more important than you. can you tell me the story again? i'll listen this time i promise."

sana hums, nudging her nose against yours gently, "i'll tell you if you tell me the truth."

"what truth?" you feign indifference.

you can tell nayeon is looking at momo, asking for an explanation with her eyes but momo shrugs, turning away and going towards the sink to do the dishes.

"we've been together for 7 months y/n. and i've known you for much longer than that. i can tell when you're lying honey."

you gulp, clutching the spoon tighter with your hands when you feel someone else, nayeon, unwrap your fingers gently and take the spoon away, interlocking your fingers with hers instead.

you stand up quickly, unable to be interrogated at such close distance anymore. sana looks a little hurt when you do, pouting but letting you go. you look at nayeon who's eyeing you with a concerned curiosity. momo still has her back to all of you with the tap on but you can tell her shoulders are tense.

you rub the back of your neck in nervousness, avoiding all of their gazes. "u-um... i actually kinda... have something i needed to talk to you all about..."

you can feel the anxiety ramping up, the adrenaline and urge to run away pumping through you, your palms beginning to sweat.

momo saves you when she turns off the tap and wipes her hands clean, "let's all go to the living room and have some ice cream and we can talk about it yeah?"

you smile at her gratefully and she returns it, grabbing the ice cream nayeon and sana just brought back and a few spoons and bowls.

nayeon and sana exchange looks of confusion but help momo bring the utensils over and eventually you're all sitting on your couch in the living room with the television on for some background noise so it wasn't too awkward.

you fiddle with your hands, not looking at any of them while the random sitcom you have plays in the background. momo notices and grabs a hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing gently, reassuring you that she was there.

you take a breath, clearing your throat and looking up at nayeon and sana.

"so i- um- i don't really know how to say this-"

"it's okay baby take your time. it's just us right?"

"yeah we're not going to judge you honey. we're here for you whatever this is okay?"

you take a shaky breath in, mumbling incoherently to yourself before deciding, "u-um it's probably a bit easier to s-show you." you let go of momo's hand and start to undo the tie at your pants.

"um... y/n if all you wanted was sex i think there were other ways to-" momo slaps nayeon who yelps, rubbing her arm where she was hit mumbling a "what?" but momo shushes her and gestures back to you.

you stand up and drop your pants, immediately feeling the cool breeze against your naked legs, shivering a little and fighting the urge to cover yourself. you stare down at your feet when you hear the little gasps. you decide to start talking, refusing to look up, "i'm sorry i made momo lie to you. i wasn't sick last night. i woke up and started thinking some… not so great things and i needed it to stop so i- um- i went to the bathroom where i hid some of my old stuff and i um- well-“ you awkwardly gesture at your thighs before continuing, “momo woke up and found me after the first cut. i would’ve kept going if she didn’t find me. she helped me clean up and bandage it and then i asked to sleep in the guest room because i didn’t want to um- i wasn’t ready to uh- to tell you guys yet- i’m sorry for keeping this from all of you for so long.“

when you’re done, you risk a glance up, and find the three loves of your life, tears running down their faces.

sana’s the first to move, she gets up and practically jumps over to you, but she stops short right before you touch, “c-can i- c-can i hug you?”

you smile at her, feeling your own tears well up at the sight of your three girlfriends crying. “of course darling. i’m still the same. i still love cuddling with you.”

she doesn’t give you a second thought and buries her head into your neck, wrapping her arms around your waist. you realise you’re still standing in the middle of the living room with your pants down which is a little absurd but you wrap your arms around her, sagging into her a little when she squeezes. you can feel her soft crying and the tears wet your neck.

nayeon stands and comes around as well, a little hesitant but you look at her and offer a wet smile and she breaks, enveloping the both of you in her arms as well with a muted sob. momo joins in as well because of course she does, you look at her gratefully as she sniffles, fiddling a little with her fingers before coming around behind you and moulding herself to your back, hands coming around your waist and holding onto sana’s hands, giving them a squeeze for reassurance as well.

you're surrounded with all the love you wanted. so why do you still want to die? you don't listen to that voice, pushing it down and trying to stay in the moment. eventually, someone breaks away, and you awkwardly shuffle your pants back on, glad to be able to cover up your scars.

nayeon speaks up first, a hand still holding yours, squeezing gently, "how long have you been... y'know-"

"since before i met you. the thoughts started getting really bad when i was still in high school. and all the pressure with doing well and all the extra curriculars i was picking up, it just got too much. the only thing that worked was the pain. it got me through high school, and i started to rely on it. but then... the first time i slept with someone... she was appalled. i had almost forgotten the scars were there until my pants were off. she got scared off and i told myself i wouldn't let anyone else see this side of me."

"baby..."

"it's okay. it got better after i met you guys. and when we all started dating i stopped. i felt happy." you smile up at your girlfriends, tears still streaming down your face, "being with all of you made me forget those things. but they came back. and worse this time because- because i have so much more to lose now. i can't- i can't lose you-" you can't control the sobs when you break down again. pathetic.

the girls are surrounding you instantly, whispering reassurances, brushing through your hair, tracing shapes into your skin, you try and focus on your bodily sensations rather than your internalisations, try and focus on them.

"we'd never leave you honey... we're not complete without you, you believe me right?" sana's tilting your face up to meet hers, her eyes are watery, nose red.

"i'm trying to believe you."

she places her forehead against yours and closes her eyes, sighing slightly, "i'm going to tell you that everyday from now. that i love you and that i'm not going anywhere. until you believe me." she smiles and tries for a joke, "you're going to have to deal with clingy me for the rest of your life."

you let out a broken laugh, kissing her sweetly. "i love when you're clingy anyway."

she laughs as well, wiping at her nose.

you peek at nayeon. you know she has more questions, the frown on her face and the little pout she has breaks your heart. you reach a hand out to her, she takes it after some consideration, and you pull her into your lap.

"you can ask anything. there's nothing off limits. i'll try answer everything i can and i promise i'll be honest with everything. that goes for the both of you as well." you look over at sana who's moved to your side to allow for nayeon to sit on your lap, she's got a hand on the eldest's waist, playing with her shirt, her other hand on your shoulder.

momo moves to your other side, lifting nayeon's legs and placing them on her own, tracing her calves and brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

nayeon's biting her lip, you focus on the small mole under her left eyebrow.

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

you sigh, "i didn't really think i needed to at first. because i hadn't done it in so long. i thought i was better."

"is it because you thought you couldn't trust us?"

"no baby that's not it."

"why did you keep your old stuff hidden then? when we moved in together? a part of you must have thought you weren't entirely better."

you bring a hand up to caress her cheek, she leans into the touch. "you're right. i'm sorry."

"is it still here?"

you look towards momo for an answer and she nods, "i didn't want to throw everything away. i wanted you to make that decision on your own. i thought that if we forcefully got rid of your things you might just try and hide it from us the next time the feelings come up. it's there but i... i don't really like the idea of leaving you alone y/n..."

nayeon's squeezing one of momo's hands, "pretty baby's so smart. i'm thankful you found her momo."

you nod in agreement, "is that why you kept following me around?"

momo nods shyly, her eyes still wet.

"i'm okay with that. i don't- i don't really trust myself right now either. i think it'd be good if someone was with me. if that wasn't... a burden or anything of course..."

sana jumps in, "honey no. you're not a burden. i hope you don't think that about yourself. i love taking care of you. i'd love being able to be there for you while you get better."

you smile at her gratefully.

"what are some of the bad thoughts you have baby?" nayeon's bringing your attention back to her, you can tell she's struggling to formulate these questions. but you're glad that she's asking them.

"a lot of it is about you guys. because you're all the reason i'm still here today."

"what about us? what can we do sweetie?"

you shake your head, looking down at your hands which are quickly taken ahold of by momo and sana. "i guess it comes down to... wondering if you can still love me while i hate myself." your grip tightens around their hands.

"you hate yourself?" nayeon's voice is shaky now, she's trying her best to hold back her emotions, wanting to find out everything she can do for you.

you nod, tears dropping onto her pants.

"there's this song. i think- i think it might be easier to play that for you guys if that's okay? i'm not really- i don't really know how to talk about this..."

they nod and quickly try and find your phone. momo finds it and hands it over to you. you quickly unlock it and search for the song you're looking for. could you love me while i hate myself - zeph.

you press play, clicking into the lyrics and staring at them to avoid looking at your girlfriend's reactions. it's a short song.

could you love me while i hate myself?

could you love me though i don't deserve it?

could you love me like there's no one else

even though you know i can't return it?

could you love me when the water's rough?

or when i leave you in a desert?

could you love me, though i speak with knives?

knowing all to well that you'll get hurt

if you can't answer 'yes' just go

i'm more trouble than i'm worth

could you love me while i hate myself?

because i don't know how this works

i never learned how this works

when it ends, you awkwardly tap out of your app, putting your phone down.

"thank you for sharing that baby."

you hum.

nayeon takes a shaky breath in, then quietly asks, "is it okay if i sing for you?"

you're surprised, looking up at her, her eyes are red. you nod.

she closes her eyes, humming a note to start, taking a breath in again and steadying her voice.

i'll love you while you hate yourself

i'll love you because you deserve it

i'll love you like i love us together

until you're ready to return it

i'll love you when things get rough

no matter where you leave us

i'll love you even when you're

working out all your thoughts

i'll get hurt if it means

some of your pain comes onto me

i'll love you while you hate yourself

and we'll figure out how it works

together we'll learn to get better

when she finishes and opens her eyes, you're sniffling again, tears streaming out of your eyes.

sana's the first to speak up, bringing her hands up to wipe at the tears on nayeon's cheeks, "our little musical genius. of course you came up with a response exactly on pitch after listening to a song once."

nayeon lets out a broken laugh, leaning into sana's touch.

you meet her eyes, a bright smile gracing your face, and you probably look a little silly, wet cheeks and red nosed with tears still dripping out of you, but nayeon laughs again in relief, coming in and kissing you.

you kiss her back gratefully, trying to convey how much you loved her in your action. you can feel sana's hand on your arm and momo's fingers in your hair. you loved them.

the thoughts are still there. you think they’ll always be there. but you don’t have to take them on on your own anymore. it would take time, but the people you loved were going to help you through it. you needed to put some trust in them as well, trust that they wouldn't leave, trust that they loved you just as you loved them, you wanted to get better, for them and for yourself, you believed you could get better with their help, for now, that was enough.

⸸

an extra a/n bcs its important: hi! i recognise that all experiences are unique so i just wanted to say the descriptions here aren’t meant to be generalised and i didn’t intend to write any stereotypes or misconceptions and i apologise if i have - i try to draw upon my own experiences to be able to write - in saying that i hope that anyone who feels they relate to similar themes etc seeks the help they need from professional sources - my dms are open ofc but i am not a professional and it is best to speak to someone who can help you in real time and in physicality. stay safe love y’all practice some self care today if u get the chance! <3

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scalingsvt8thusiast · 6 months

Text

Skin-Deep Chapter 4

summary: The one where you fall for Seungcheol amongst all the protests and insecurities. The one where you don't know that he's fallen for you too.

a/n: I ended up listening to Love Wins All by IU on repeat to make myself sad for this chapter. I'm generally quite a happy person so I had to somehow dig into the feelings from sadder times. Sorry if it doesn't feel real/deep/sad enough. I tried D:

“Hi Beautiful,” A voice you knew all too well. You ignored him and kept walking.

“Pretty?” He was persistent you’ll give him that. You continued walking, picking up the pace.

“Baby? I know you can hear me.” He said, “Please slow down, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

With that you faltered, curse your weak heart! You found your path being blocked by Seungcheol so you really had no choice but to stop.

“Hey,” Seungcheol said, you looked away, turning your head away when he made an effort to be face to face with you.

“What do you want, Seungcheol?” You sounded frustrated and your grip around your bag tightened, not knowing where else to put your hands. Your eyes still not meeting his.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

After that day with Mingyu, you couldn’t deal with your feelings. When Mingyu dropped you off, you reassured him that you were fine, not missing that look of disbelief on his face. Once you reached the safety of your dorm room, you collapsed. You sat with your back against your front door and knees drawn to your chest, unmoving for hours. You felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of sorrow.

It hurts to know you would never have a chance but you miscalculated how much it would actually hurt to see him with someone else.

When you finally willed yourself to get up, you decided to do yourself a favour and avoid Seungcheol. You were hoping that if he didn’t see you long enough, he would get bored and find someone else’s feelings to play around with.

You had successfully avoided him for a few days, even changing your usual route home and leaving uni at odd hours. Today you weren’t so lucky.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, keeping your voice as devoid of emotion as possible. Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrowed as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Did I do something?” He said.

You debated for a moment, talk to him now or say nothing?

Obviously you were a coward, “No, I’ve seriously just been busy.”

You could feel him boring holes into your head. If you looked at him now, you knew the resolve you built would come crumbling down in a matter of seconds.

“Come on, baby. Tell me what did I do?” He placed his hands on your sides, tilting his head to meet your eyes.

At the feeling of his arms and the sound of his gentle voice, you felt yourself falling apart.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Your voice came out barely a whisper, eyes focusing on the cobblestone at your feet.

“What can’t you do?” He said, genuinely lost.

He had finally caught you after searching the campus for days. He even resorted to camping outside your dorm in one of his less extravagant cars to catch a glimpse of you, like a creep. When he finally found you, you didn’t look happy. You would normally give him one of your sweet smiles that made him lose control of his legs. You would look at him with those beautiful eyes that caused his respiratory muscles to spasm. You would laugh when he cracked a joke and he decided that all the best musicians in the world had nothing over your laughter.

“I can’t let you keep playing with me like this.” You said, trying to swallow the growing lump in your throat. Feeling wet streaks running down your cheeks, you cursed. You did not want to cry in front of him.

Seungcheol’s heart clenched, he had never seen you this way. He couldn’t bear to see you look so down and dejected.

“Baby, why-“

“Cheol,“ you cut him off, pushing his arms off you, not wanting him to touch you any longer. “Maybe we should stop talking.”

“What?” Seungcheol said, he was desperate now, desperate to not lose you. His hands searched for yours and pulled you into his chest. He held you tight against him.

“Baby, I’m sorry for whatever I did alright?” He was practically begging, “I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t say that.”

You were letting out soft sniffles and whimpers against his chest. He continued muttering soft apologies into your hair while rubbing your back. He could only hold you while patiently waiting for you to tell him what was wrong. He couldn’t suppress the small feeling of content as you chose to stay in his arms and not push him away, at least that meant he still had a chance. In a happier situation, he would have chosen to stay like that forever.

“I’ll get on my knees if you want me too, just please tell me what did I do?” He tried again, pulling away to face you.

“Cheol, I like you.” You said in between sniffles, you kept your eyes trained on his chest, not daring to look at him. “I like you a lot and that’s on me. I know you don’t feel the same way about me. I do. So let’s just not- “

“Who said that I don’t feel the same way?”

Shocked by his reply, your head snapped up so fast you swear you almost gave yourself whiplash. This was the first time you looked at him in the past few days, he looked exhausted, his eye bags were deep and his face paler than usual.

“There’s my beautiful girl.” He said, bringing his hand up to touch your cheek, his eyes not leaving yours. Your eyes wide as you watch him, looking for any signs of humour in his face, thinking he was just saying it to make you feel better.

“I like you too.” He stated. He said it like it was so obvious that everybody knew. He said it as if it was the only thing he knew. “In fact, I probably like you more than you like me.”

His eyes crinkled when he gave you a small smile. You were still too shocked to process what he was saying.

“Baby, are you still with me?” He was concerned that you still weren’t answering him. You two hadn’t even started dating yet, he couldn’t have broken you when he had just told you about his feelings.

“I-,” You stuttered, “I-sorry, I don't know what to say.”

“You don't have to say anything.”

One of his hands had found its way to the back of your head. He pulled your face closer to his until you could feel his breath on your lips. His eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“Is this alright?” He sounded timid, unsure.

A smile formed on your face. “Of course.”

His lips came down onto yours and it was like a million fireworks erupted within you. He kissed you slowly, taking his time with you. It wasn’t rushed or bruising like the ones you'd read about in romance novels. It was a hundred times better.

His free arm dropped to wrap around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. Your own arms finding solace around his neck, pushing your fingers into his hair. You let out sighs of content and he drank it all up.

Your lips were so soft, softest thing Seungcheol had ever felt. He knew once he got to taste you, he would immediately be addicted. He wanted to do so many more things to you but he would take what you’d allow. If that meant just kisses for the rest of his life, he would die happy.

When you finally pulled away, he chased your lips.

“Cheol, we’re in public.” You said, giggling as you playfully smacked him on the chest.

“That hasn’t stopped me before, baby.” He wiggled his eyebrows playfully and leaned in for another kiss.

You placed a hand on his cheek and pushed his face away. He whined and pouted.

“Will you let me take you out, princess?” He said, bringing his nose to yours. His beautiful brown eyes staring into yours. You blushed, feeling shy even though you two had just made out.

“Depends on where we’re going.” You replied.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about that, I’ve had the reservation down since the day I met you.”

a/n2: hope you enjoyed reading so far! Again, I don't really think I did a good job on this chapter so let me know if you have anything to say about how i could improve :D

#scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fic #scoups fic #seungcheol fluff #scoups fluff #choi seungcheol #scoups #seventeen seungcheol #seventeen scoups #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #seventeen #svt #svt fic #svt x reader #svt fluff #svt fanfic

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grimoireofhayley · 3 months

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Cheri Cheri Lady

ASTARION X FEMALE! READER

Inspired by the song Cheri Cheri Lady by Modern Talking

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: Astarion is falling for his newest companion and quick, though, he doesn’t have a clue on what to do and when she rejects him to be just friends and not lovers, he is thankful as he doesn’t want his trauma to burden their intimacy. However, hours pass then days and he can’t help but feel sad, hurt and confused. His thoughts all seem to linger to her, who she’s with, what she’s doing, WHO she’s possibly doing, it’s all too much for him, he wants her and only her. He loves her. And little does he know; she loves him just as much and is hurt by her own decision. Do they end up together in the end?

Read to find out~

A/n: Takes place during his first confession and will follow through to his other confessions (or not at all) Mainly done in third person, but will also include Astarion’s point of views, how he feels and etc.

Warnings: Will mention and include trauma, anxiety, hurt, angst, sadness/depression, there will be swearing, jealousy. It’s a friend to lovers' trope, slow burn, possessiveness, mentions of sex.

Oh, I cannot explain Every time it's the same Oh, I feel that it's real Take my heart

“Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk.” Astarion asks, his voice barely above a whisper as he looks at (Y/n), her iris’s staring into his own, waiting attentively.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.

“Are you alright?” She quirks a brow, tilting her head to the side, his silence weighing heavy in the air.

“Oh yes, I'm fine. I just-...feel...”

Astarion gulps, suddenly feeling helpless and scared, but mainly...

“Awful.” He admits, his face faltering.

(Y/n) only stared at him, motioning him to continue, now concerned for the vampling in front of her.

“Look, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan – seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me...” He giggled nervously, but the pain in his face still shown. “It was easy – instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in...” He frowned, trying to read your expression, but it proved to be difficult, you were stoic, not phased, as if you knew he was going to say this. “All you had to do was fall for it...”

Please, say something... Anything... Don’t let me make a fool of myself, especially in front of you.

She only continued to stare at Astarion, her arms still crossed.

His voice breaks enough to notice the sorrow in it, the dread of guilt he had felt, guilt he never truly felt before, but with (Y/n) it was different; he felt emotions he never knew he could feel again, emotions that all came crashing down at once, he didn’t know how to come to terms with it.

I've been lonely too long Oh, I can't be so strong Take the chance for romance Take my heart

“And all I had to do was not fall for you... which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart.”

She bit her lips, digging her nails into her flesh, leaving indents. She wasn’t sure what to feel, hatred and sadness for how he used her? Happiness because this is the rogue-elf she’s come to love so deeply and intensely?

She was overwhelmed, but dared not to show it.

“You-...” Astarion stuttered, “You’re incredible. You deserve something real; I want us to be something real.” He clasped his hands together, his palms sweaty out of nerves.

“So, the nights we spent together didn’t mean anything?” She mumbles, looking away, trying not to show the hurt that lingered.

He wanted to touch her, shake her even, but mainly tuck the loose strands of luscious (h/c) hair behind her ear and look into her eyes, letting the Drow-paladin know that it meant everything to him, but the flashbacks of the people he manipulated into sleeping with him... all for Cazador, came into clutch, keeping him from moving; keeping him from closing the gap between the two.

Astarion was quick to shake the question and thoughts from his head as he knew one thing and that’s what he wanted, and what he wanted was her.

“Of course they did – that's the problem! Or part of it...” His tone was soft, sincere even. His usual dramatic-sarcastic self, now tender and vulnerable.

Why is this so hard?

“Being close to someone – any kind of intimacy – was something I preformed to lure people back... for him.” Astarion glances at her before clearing his throat. “Even though I know things are different between us...”

(Y/n) frowns, but a glint of happiness sparkled in her (e/c) hues as she stares up at the pale elf in front of her.

“Being with someone feels...- tainted. It brings up those feelings of disgust and self-loathing.” He sighs, miserably. “I don’t know how else to be with someone, no matter how much I’d like to.”

Astarion moves closer, slowly grabbing her hand in his, though, hesitant, (Y/n) pulls back.

“Maybe what you really need is a friend, not a lover...” She trails, not meeting Astarions shocked gaze.

“You’re right, I think a friend is what I need and I’m glad it is you.”

I need you so There's no time I'll ever go

I stared at her from my campsite, watching as she mingled with the others; her hair down and cascading down her back, plump pink lips stretching into a smirk and a new sleep attire accentuating her curves.

She was breathtaking; possibly the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.

I bit my tongue, leaning back. I thought maybe a friend is what I needed, but now I find myself having sleepless nights in thoughts of her and how her body arched at the mere prick of my teeth; how she trembled and gravitated towards me, how we molded perfectly in sync, how the sound of my name cried from her lips shrouded me in bliss; how she would answer my sarcasm with her own witty remarks.

She was brilliant in more ways than one.

I regret ever agreeing to being just friends.

Cheri, cheri lady Goin' through a motion Love is where you find it Listen to your heart

“Astarion!” (Y/n) yells, startling the vampire spawn, “Watch out!” She screams, summoning all of her strength and pushing him out of the way as a fireball was hurdling into their direction.

He rolled at the impact, immediately getting up, and looking around.

“A trap...” He mumbled, flustered that he didn’t see it sooner; he was distracted by his thoughts; distracted by her.

“Tsk’va..” Lae’zel utters, gripping her longsword. “You nearly got us killed.” She hollered, glaring at the elf beside her.

“Astarion...” (Y/n) whispered, grabbing ahold of her friend’s hand. Astarion looked down at her, his undead heart feeling alive as phantom palpitations triggered a plethora of emotions; sadness, love, denial, hurt and comfort all-in-one.

He continued to stare, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Are you okay?” She asked, her hand still in his, “I can’t help but notice...- well, you seem out of it.” She stated, “Should we retire for the night?”

“I-I’m fine...”

No, I’m not...

“A short rest will do.”

(Y/n) nods, letting go of his hand. The warmth he felt now succumbed to his cold temperature and every fleeting motion of her grip, now slowly evaporating.

Cheri, cheri lady Living in devotion It's always like the first time Let me take a part

“Was that really necessary?” (Y/n) scowls, crossing her arms.

“What did you expect me to do, Darling~?” Astarion chuckles, triumphantly. “He had it coming.”

“You didn’t need to punch the poor Tiefling.” (Y/n) scorned, “He was buying me a drink, not asking for my hand--”

“In marriage? He may as well have.” Astarion matched her scowling, “With the way he gawked at you; drooling like a rabid dog in heat, oh my sweet, he was panting for you, he would’ve humped your leg if he had the chance... it was positively sickening.” He waved his hand, dismissing her attempt at an argument, while simultaneously tilting his head upwards, flaring his nostrils and closed his eyes.

“And? So, what if he did, I might’ve said yes.” She groaned, stopping in her tracks, “Is it really sickening to have someone want me that bad...?” She sighed, looking down, recalling the moments her and Astarion shared weeks prior.

She missed him, loved him, wanted him, longed for him, but he wasn’t ready.

She was lonely; heartbroken.

Astarion opened an eye, looking at her, baffled at her reaction.

“N-No, that’s not what I mean!” Astarion fumbled over his words, shaking his hands frantically in front of the girl, both eyes now wide and pleading for forgiveness.

Cheri, cheri lady Like there's no tomorrow Take my heart, don't lose it Listen to your heart

“Then what do you mean?”

I love you that’s what I mean...

“He didn’t have class, manners... you need someone who does.” He states.

Like me...

Cheri, cheri lady To know you is to love you If you call me baby I'll be always yours

The nights were beginning to feel colder, harsher and isolated.

I find myself glancing at the forest; a spot just beyond a clearing where I first indulged in sexual affairs with (Y/n). Gods, it was incredible; she was incredible, though, I fear she sensed I was uncomfortable during some of the acts.

I have no one to blame but myself, I’m the one who approached her first with a plan in mind, what I didn’t expect was my plan to fail; to be the one who falls for her first. If I hadn’t come to her, maybe I wouldn’t be sitting here, alone, scared, hurt and in love, but here I am; a mess...

Astarion gripped at his white curls, a pained scream clawing to erupt from his esophagus; a tightness abrades in his chest as he reached his hand to his heart, pulling at the white blouse he wore.

He falls to his knees, the memories of torment, manipulation, dread, abuse and anger corrupting his mind.

Gods damn you, Cazador. I’m supposed to be alive; I’m supposed to be enjoying life and its pleasures. It feels like I’m shackled to the pits of Avernus; but this...this is much worse than hell.

Everything I touch feels tainted, but you are dead, I am free; why are you still here!

Astarion screams as loud as he can, his affliction bubbling and escaping to the surface.

“Just let me be able to love her!”

I get up, I get down All my world turns around Who is right? Who was wrong? I don't know

I've got pain in my heart Got a love in my soul Easy come, but I think Easy go

Part Two: COMING SOON

#astarion bg3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 screenshots #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x female reader #astarion #fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion x reader

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suavemania · 1 year

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to be honest with you...

pairing: leon kennedy x reader word count: 850+ reader summary: you cant help yourself and tell leon the truth, you like him a bit too much than just a casual fling. warning: this sat in my drafts so here it is notes: not pining for once. just a bit short and sweet before i drop the most emotionally destructive drabble ive inflicted on myself:(

“I think I like you.”

The words just came out, almost as if you couldn’t help yourself. Your body was pressed against his, you were on top of him; fingers had just traced his collarbone.You blinked at him, your eyes wide as you realized just what you had said.

The two of you weren’t anything official. It started with meet-ups every now and then, bodies intertwining with each other for emotional comfort. The nights would always end with the two of you sleeping next to each other, clinging onto the other as if to cram in as much physical touch before the sun came up. The two of you always hated mornings, but for various reasons. Leon never liked mornings because it meant he had to leave. You hated mornings because you would have to kill the feeling in you that this was more, meant more than just being a casual thing.

You swore that you wouldn’t meet him more after the tenth time, it was always on his accord, his rules. He would be the one to reach out, he would be the one to reply hours later after you ask him simple questions- it was never easy to get to him (you never knew why), but god, it was easy to be with him. His hands were always placed on your body perfectly, he always knew where to touch, where to be and when. It’s like he set his eyes on you, and he just knew how to treat you, to adore you, to love you. Parts of you would die for him, and you always figured it was because the two of you never just settled with ‘fucking’ each other, it had to be more.

Your eyes would always lock with each other, hands clasping and bodies pressing desperately against each other; almost as if to carve a part in the other. It felt like love. To be filled with the desire to dig for each other, to live inside the very ribcage of the other but settling for just sex because it was as close as you were gonna get to being a part of him.

It wasn’t only about being close to each other’s bodies. It was also the fact that the two of you didn’t sleep, like at all. After every session, the two of you would lie in your bed, chatting about everything, like for example: your theory that Leon dyes his hair blonde or Leon scolding you for the way you cook your scrambled eggs in the mornings.

The routine is uncomplicated, simple yet enough:

Leon would come over. You’d kiss, sloppy kisses turn into passionate, feverish ones. It would be a stumbling battle to the bed, Leon would push you to the bed, leaving you to say: how did we actually pull it off to get here? Which was Leon’s cue to shut you up until your brain couldn’t possibly string together a sentence properly. Then, it was just mindless chatting so long into the night that the two of you would later head into the kitchen to cook a late-night snack. From there, it would just be a movie to fall asleep, or more chatting until the other went silent, usually you.

“You like me?” Leon asks, raising an eyebrow as you push yourself off his chest, scrambling for your underwear as you try to cover your body with the wrinkled, warm sheets.

“I don’t know-” you spit out, hands aimlessly patting at the floor. Where were your underwear and why did it feel like everything had gotten a lot darker? And was it always this warm in the room? You let out a whine, but suddenly you felt the warm muscular chest meet your back. A gentle hand placed on your shoulder as Leon leans into your ear, his hot air brushing your already-blushing ear.

“I know something you don’t.” He muses, and you could just hear that Leon had a smirk on his dumb, soft lips. The lips that you so desperately didn’t want to stop kissing. You close your eyes, feeling the awkward tension in your body numbing your entire body. Was this it, the slow humiliation? The painful end of your casual meet-ups that you promised you were fine with, settling for the crumbs of Leon that you could possibly get?

“What’s that?” You respond, a small tinge of reluctance as you await Leon’s disapproval, still disgruntled over the disappearance of your undergarments. Leon chuckles, plopping your underwear onto your lap as he lays himself down onto the bed again.

“That I think I like you too,” He says, and you could feel his eyes on you as you turn to look at him. The words sent a shiver down your spine, and then the lower part of your stomach began stirring. Your heart beating in your chest as you felt yourself growing needy. Without really realizing it yourself, you inch closer to him; disregarding the found underwear that was given to you by him.

“Now come over here.” he says, his voice soft and affectionate as he speaks. "I want to kiss you."

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #resident evil 4 #resident evil leon #short n sweet drabbles #suavemania #im a fkn idiot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!but hi

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azsazz · 10 months

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Change Your Ticket (Part 5)

Rugby Star!Cassian x Reader (A Modern AU)

Summary: Dating famous rugby star Cassian Bailey is a dream. What's not one is keeping your secret relationship under wraps. Will you and Cassian be able to keep from the limelight or will your relationship crumble because of it?

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3,541

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

Notes: ugh. i don't like this one.

_________________________________________

“What?”

There’s no way she just said what you think she said. You wouldn’t be able to hear it with the pounding of your heart and your blood rushing through your ears, you can’t even decipher her next words as the floor falls from your feet.

How would she know that? You pride Mor on her innate ability to find out most information about almost anyone, she’s like a secret agent sometimes. Once, when Feyre had had told you and Mor that her sister Elain was to be engaged to a man no one in her family liked, Mor spent two nights digging into his socials and finding out everything she could about the bastard. To this day, Elain still doesn’t know who it was that sent her those anonymous screenshots and photos of him with another woman.

But right now, you don’t think it’s possible for Mor to have found something out like this. You and Cassian have been so careful, to the extend where you’d been a little paranoid even, always checking your surrounding and planning the times you and him meet up down to the second. You’re anal as fuck about it, but it’s worked for eight months. So why isn’t it working right now?

“I know you don’t want me to repeat myself,” Mor huffs down the line, but her voice is all static, your ears ringing. Your phone is buzzing incessantly in your fingers and your arm is numb with it. You’re terrified to pull the device from your ear, not knowing who or what kind of messages you’re receiving right now.

The elevator rings, signaling its arrival to your floor, and the doors sliding open almost feel like a death sentence. On numb legs, you step forward and off the elevator, Mor’s voice still echoing in your head. You’re dating Cassian Bailey?

Bright flashes jolt you from your thoughts. Whipping your head to where the front entrance is located, you quint, holding your hand up to block some of the glare. Your stomach drops to the floor at the sight. A crowd of paparazzi wait outside, snapping pictures of you through the lobby’s clear windows.

Holy shit. This is real. This is really fucking happening.

You’re not prepared in the slightest. You don’t know what to do, your mind is racing with a thousand thoughts a second and the strobes coming from the front of your building blind you, leaving white spots in your vision, taking out another one of your senses. Mor is rambling on in your ear, shrill sounding, and if you could make out the words through your muddled mind, you figure she’s scolding you and feeling a bit betrayed by you keeping this a secret from one of your closest friends.

Outside, the people shout. Their words are muffled by the thick glass, but it only adds to the anxiety scorching your veins. The collar of your shirt tightens around your throat and your breathing turns shakey. You’re frozen to the spot, halfway out of the elevator, the doors trying to slide closed but your body against the sensor keeps them angrily pulling back open.

The people waiting for the elevator upstairs are probably pissed.

“Mor?” you ask, and she falls silent. You must not sound like yourself because Mor never lets anyone interrupt her. Ever.

“Yeah?” Her tone is cautious, obviously picking up the emotion—or lack thereof—in your tone.

“What’s going on?”

It’s the only thing you can think to say. Your mind is being hammered with thoughts and the bright lights trying to blind you aren’t helping in the slightest but your feet are frozen to the ground. You know you look like a deer in headlights and that you should move, force yourself to do anything besides stand here like a fool for them to get all of the pictures they want—

Your body surges into action, striding out of the elevator and turning down the hall, giving them your back. You can hear their pathetic pleas for you to turn around and walk their way, but you know better than that. They’re here for one thing and one thing only—to see exactly who Cassian Bailey is sticking his dick into.

Rumors and stories will be swirling by tonight. Your phone buzzes in your hand again and you’re sure these pictures are already up in the tabloids, social media, every inch of the internet they can reach. You wonder if Cassian’s seen any of it and then remember that he’s finishing up practice, so he won’t be by his phone to see all of this for at least another hour.

You’re all alone in this.

Mor sighs your name sadly, and your chest squeezes tight as you round a corner, putting a wall between you and the paparazzi. What she’s about to say isn’t going to be something that you want to hear, but maybe it will make it all the more real.

“There was a picture of you in the Morning Mail,” she explains, and your throat tightens. The Morning Mail is a stupid tabloid online that updates every morning. Most of the time it’s filled with silly stories of random acts of kindness or pranks gone wrong with the occasional post about the current celebrity gossip. You didn’t even know that many people followed the account. Mor does because she’s been on their feed a few times and it gained her thousands of followers overnight. “You’re wearing his shirt.”

You want to choke. You never leave the house in Cassian’s clothes; you make sure of that. You’ve been so careful all this time, parking down the street from his place when you visit, forcing him to take a car and get dropped off since people are surely tracking his personal license plates. You don’t sit with the other families in the stadium at the home games, and Cassian doesn’t even follow you on social media.

You’re wearing his shirt, you echo, wracking your brain for any chance you may have slipped up. Nothing comes to mind, and when you hang your head, it hits you full force; the t-shirt you’d stolen of his in your rush to avoid his more than cheeky attitude this morning. Distracted by his wandering hands, his charming smile, you’d shoved one of his on, tucking it into your slacks before rushing out the door.

“Fuck,” your voice wobbles, tears pricking your eyes and emotion thickening your throat. It’s a black fucking cotton t-shirt, and apart from the sheer size of it and how it hangs loosely from your body, you haven’t the slightest idea of how they know it’s his. But it is, and they know.

A quick glance around the corner has your heart stammering in your chest. The photographers look like a bunch of wild animals, climbing over each other trying to catch a glimpse of you. You pray that their flashes are reflecting off of the glass and ruining their photos, but surely, your luck has completely run out if this is how your Monday is going.

You need to get out of here, now.

“I’ve already called Feyre,” Mor says down the line, and you’re confused on why you weren’t the first call she’d made when she continues. “My attempts went right to voicemail, and I called you right back as soon as I let her know. We’re already on our way to your place but we can swing by if you want a ride?”

“Yeah, I—”

“(Y/N)?” Tarquin’s voice startles you as he peeks around the corner. His bleached brows are furrowed deeply, a frown painting his face when he catches the frazzled look on your face. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

Ah, so he’s also seen the mass of crazies outside trying to capture a front cover photo of you.

You have a choice right now, to lie to your coworker and say that you have no idea what’s going on or who they’re trying to take pictures of, or confide in your best work friend who’s been with you since the start. Literally, you both started on the same day and have been inseparable since.

You choose the latter.

“Would you mind giving me a ride home?” you ask, holding your hand over the speaker of your phone while you talk to Tarquin. “It seems as though my car is surrounded by strangers.”

With a quick glance back in the direction to the front doors of the building, Tarquin agrees, tone hesitant and a little confused, but he’s gracious nonetheless. “Sure, I can do that. Let me bring my car around the back and I’ll pick you up there?”

You nod, thankful. “Yes, please. Thanks, Tarq, you’re the best.”

He smirks genuinely and you’d roll your eyes at his antics if you weren’t shaking down to the bone. With a wink, Tarquin makes his way through the crowd, and you can hear his cheerful voice as he shoved through the doors, obviously loving all of the attention.

“Mor?” you ask into your phone once he’s gone, “I’ve got a ride, just meet me at my place.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“So…are we going to talk about why all of those people were asking me about you and trying to get pictures?” Tarquin asks once you’ve successfully made it out into the busy traffic and away from the fleet of paparazzi surrounding your place of work.

Tarquin had picked you up at the back of the building and you all but dove into his car before any of the photographers could catch a glimpse of you. Your coworker had shoved a baseball cap in your direction, one with the Sealion’s logo on it that you reluctantly shoved on your head, slumping down in your seat so you weren’t seen.

Your phone has been buzzing constantly, and you’re worried you might actually have to get a new number with the onslaught of texts, calls, and notifications threatening to send your phone into the same shock you’re currently experiencing. Your parents have even been trying to get through, but you haven’t had the guts to answer any of them or even dare to look on any social media platform. You’ve just been staring at the screen, constantly lit with incoming messages, buzzing fervently in your lap.

You glance at the clock on the radio, blinking 5:32. How could your entire world have turned upside down in the matter of thirty-two minutes? You’ve gone from normal girl working a nine to five at a graphic design firm to Cassian Bailey’s girlfriend all because of a fucking plain t-shirt.

You don’t know if you’ll ever get over that, the fact that an oversized, black cotton t-shirt is your downfall in all of this. It’s mind-boggling to believe that someone had connected the dots that quickly, but there are some avid fans of Cassian’s that you wouldn’t dare to go head-to-head with.

“What’s there to talk about?” you speak softly, defeated. With a sigh, you shut your phone off. It’s the best way to avoid what’s going on on the internet until you can wrap your head around everything and what you plan to do about it. You’re exhausted already, just attempting to think about it. You let your head fall to the side, the leather squeaking against your head as you look over at your friend. “You heard them, Tarq.”

Everything that you’ve worked for, your privacy, your art, might all be ruined. Gaining your own following in the graphic design community had been hard, and now that you’re about to be known by the world doesn’t sit right with you. How are you supposed to make really work-related connections when people might only be seeking you out to get closer to Cassian? The thought of being used like that makes your stomach roil. Your trust issues are about to be through the roof.

You stare back out at the traffic and squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Your brain hurts and you just want to be in the safety of your home.

“So, you’re dating Cassian Bailey,” Tarquin says, like if he almost can’t believe it himself. A sharp pinch to your shoulder has your eyes shooting open and your body bolting upright, only for the seatbelt to lock and nearly choke you.

Yelping, you glare at your friend, but his ice blue eyes are focused on the road. “Hey! What was that for?”

“For not telling me, obviously,” Tarquin scoffs, glancing over his shoulder and flicking on his turn-signal to switch lanes. You peek out of the passenger mirror, anxious that one of the photographers caught a glimpse of you leaving and has somehow followed you thus far.

“I didn’t tell anyone, if it makes you feel better.”

You’re answered with a roll of his eyes.

You don’t know what to say, how to respond to Tarquin, how to respond to any of this. All you want to do is crawl in a hole and hide away for the next few years. How are you supposed to go about your day normally when everything is anything but normal? You’ll be expected to show up with Cassian now, be there in the crowd for the home matches, you know people will be looking for you.

A headache splits your skull at the thoughts running rampant in your mind. There are so many things to think about now, each and every move you make is going to have to be calculated. You’ll have to think about what you’re going to wear, how you’ll present yourself, thinking about what to say before you speak. Anything you do now will reflect on Cassian’s career, and fans will be blaming you for his mistakes.

It's all too much.

“How long has this been going on?” Tarquin asks softly, as if sensing you’re stuck in your head and need help getting out. You don’t really want to talk about you and Cassian at all right now, but you shove those impending thoughts aside with a sigh, and talk to your friend.

“A little over eight months, now.”

“Is he hung?”

You splutter, choking on your saliva, and Tarquin laughs. This, this is why he’s your favorite coworker. Tarquin isn’t afraid of saying what’s on his mind, no matter how HR unfriendly the question may be.

“I’m not answering that,” you laugh, craning your neck to look out the window, hiding your hot face. The blush staining your cheeks is answer enough.

Tarquin tuts, turning down your street. It’s empty, and you breathe a sigh of relief when he pulls up to your building and there isn’t a crowd of people shouting your name and trying to take your picture. A little of the tension eases from your shoulders.

“Do you want me to pick you up for work in the morning?” Tarquin asks, pulling over to let you out.

You shake your head, gathering your things. “I’m going to call in sick tomorrow. Don’t know what I’m going to do after that. Do you think Alis will let me work from home permanently?” You ask. Alis, your boss, is a strict woman who you can’t seem to figure out if she likes or dislikes anyone that works for her.

Tarquin huffs, “I doubt it. She’s tough as nails, that one.”

“Might just have to quit then, I suppose.”

Your friend’s jaw drops and he looks at you with eyes of betrayal. “You are not going to leave me with the wolves like that! I’ll come drag your ass out of this apartment everyday if I need to.”

“But if I quit, you’ll get to take over Tamlin’s project,” you tease, and his eyes widen comically. He hadn’t thought about that one, apparently. Unlatching the lock, you slide out of the vehicle. You lean down, looking back at your coworker. “Thanks for the ride, Tarq. I’ll text you later.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

Feyre and Mor meet you at the door to your apartment, their arms packed with grocery bags filled with candles, ice cream, frozen pizzas, and a lot of alcohol.

“You look like you need it,” Feyre had said when you eyed the bottle of vodka she’d unloaded on your counter.

You do.

You have no appetite, picking at the crust of your slice of pizza. Your stomach stirs sickly, the never-ending thoughts consuming you as you fill your two best friends in on the last eight months you’ve spent with Cassian, from when you’d accidentally run into him at the grocery store late one night after a horrible date gone wrong, to this morning, when you’d slipped into his shirt and hastily left for work. You’d left out the part about Cassian trying to seduce you back into bed, but your friends got most of the story.

“This is insane,” you groan, shoving your plate away from yourself with a sigh. “What the hell am I going to do?”

You hadn’t turned your phone back on, you hadn’t wanted to. You left it in your room when you’d gotten home and changed into your most comforting clothes, stuffing that fucking shirt that got you caught to the bottom of your hamper in rage.

Snuggling deeper into your hoodie, you drag the bottle of vodka closer to yourself, pouring a heavy-handed shot. The alcohol burns your throat on the way down and you grimace, focusing on the burn instead of the pricking at the back of your eyes that hadn’t gone away since you’d all but fallen into your best friends’ arms.

“First, we’re going to need to start brainstorming how to get you out of this. Thankfully, I have a little bit of experience with this sort of thing.”

And she does. Mor has been in the tabloids more than a few times, and most of the time it’s a semi-true story with made-up aspects to really make it seem juicier than it is. She was once photographed coming out of a popular restaurant at the same time actor Harry Hybern was headed in to meet with some friends, and the media had a field day with it. As much as she liked the actor, Mor was upset with the fact that he is thrice her age. You would’ve hated being on the other side of that phone call when she’d dialed the magazine that printed the article, demanding a retraction.

“What’s the first thing you usually do when this sort of thing happens?” you ask. Maybe talking to Mor about her experiences in the public eye will make you feel a little better, if not offer an idea of what you can do yourself.

“See how cute I look in the pictures,” Mor answers, unabashed.

You huff out a laugh in response, Feyre giggling into her glass. “That’s the first thing I do when I see you in the media too, Mor,” she says with a grin, “That vomit green look from the other day? Not your best work, and (Y/N)’s plain black t-shirt tucked into her slacks was so cute! I’m totally stealing that look.”

“Go ahead,” you wave her off because you’re never wearing it again.

Mor glares a little, pouting. “Anyway, back to the topic at hand. Helping our friend and her sudden fame. I’m thinking Cassian’s dick will take care of most of the emotional turmoil,” she says and Feyre laughs a little too hard. Mor reaches into the bag and pulls out a notebook, flipping it to the first page. “We’ll start with some brainstorming—"

A knock at the door startles you from your wallowing. Back straightening, you glance at your friends taking up the other side of the kitchen island, eyes wide and heart hammering in your chest.

“What if it’s more photographers?” you whisper, and your fingers tremble a little so you clench them instead.

Mor and Feyre share a glance, a flash of worry crossing their features as if they hadn’t thought about it.

“I’ll get it,” Feyre decides, placing her half-drunk glass on the counter as she stands. The blanket droops from her shoulders, flopping onto the back of her stool like you want to be right now, a puddle of fabric and emotions. “If it’s them, I’ll say that this is my place and I don’t know who you are.”

“Good idea,” Mor compliments, nudging your glass with the beck of her hand. She gives you a soft, encouraging smile. “Drink up, (Y/N). It’s probably not the paps, but we’ve got to get you less paranoid so you can think better.”

“Not sure getting wasted is going to help with my thinking,” you mutter, tipping your glass back anyway, “But whatever.” Mor is ready when you remove the empty cup from your lips, already pouring you more. You’re glad to have such amazing friends to drop what they’re doing and come over in your time of turmoil, and they haven’t even laid into you yet about keeping this huge secret from them.

Small victories, and all that.

“(Y/N)?” Feyre calls from the other room. She sounds shocked, almost, and the sound of it makes you want to throw the blanket over your head and cower like a fool. “It’s definitely not the paparazzi.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

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